Dividing his party again, he concluded to
take a corporal and a few men and explore the lower marshes
himself.
The preoccupation of duty, exercise, and perhaps, above all, the
keen stimulus of the iodine-laden salt air seemed to clear his mind
and invigorate his body. He had never been in the Marsh before,
and enjoyed its novelty with the zest of youth. It was the hour
when the tide of its feathered life was at its flood. Clouds of
duck and teal passing from the fresh water of the river to the salt
pools of the marshes perpetually swept his path with flying
shadows; at times it seemed as if even the uncertain ground around
him itself arose and sped away on dusky wings. The vicinity of
hidden pools and sloughs was betrayed by startled splashings; a few
paces from their marching feet arose the sunlit pinions of a swan.
The air was filled with multitudinous small cries and pipings. In
this vocal confusion it was some minutes before he recognized the
voice of one of his out-flankers calling to the other.
An important discovery had been made. In a long tongue of bushes
that ran down to the Marsh they had found a mud-stained uniform,
complete even to the cap, bearing the initial of the deserter's
company.
"Is there any hut or cabin hereabouts, Schmidt?" asked Calvert.
"Dot vos schoost it, Lefdennun," replied his corporal. "Dot vos de
shanty from der Kingvisher--old Gulbebber.
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