The Trumpet of the Swan. Fred Marcellino

You have heard the partridge say kwit-kwit. At night you have dropped off to sleep to the sound of frogs—the voices of the night. But these pleasures and pastimes, these adventures, these games and frolics, these beloved sights and sounds must come to an end. All things come to an end. It is time for us to go.”

      “Where will we go?” cried all the cygnets except Louis. “Where will we go, ko-hoh, ko-hoh? Where will we go, ko-hoh, ko-hoh?”

      “We will fly south to Montana,” replied the cob.

      “What is Montana?” asked all the cygnets except Louis. “What is Montana—banana, banana? What is Montana—banana, banana?”

      “Montana,” said their father, “is a state of the Union. And there, in a lovely valley surrounded by high mountains, are the Red Rock Lakes, which nature has designed especially for swans. In these lakes you will enjoy warm water, arising from hidden springs. Here, ice never forms, no matter how cold the nights. In the Red Rock Lakes, you will find other Trumpeter Swans, as well as the lesser waterfowl—the geese and the ducks. There are few enemies. No gunners. Plenty of muskrat houses. Free grain. Games every day. What more can a swan ask, in the long, long cold of winter?”

      Louis listened to all this in amazement. He wanted to ask his father how they would learn to fly and how they would find Montana even after they learned to fly. He began to worry about getting lost. But he wasn’t able to ask any questions. He just had to listen.

      One of his brothers spoke up.

      “Father,” he said, “you said we would fly south. I don’t know how to fly. I’ve never been up in the air.”

      “True,” replied the cob. “But flying is largely a matter of having the right attitude—plus, of course, good wing feathers. Flying consists of three parts. First, the takeoff, during which there is a lot of fuss and commotion, a lot of splashing and rapid beating of the wings. Second, the ascent, or gaining of altitude—this requires hard work and fast wing action. Third, the levelling-off, the steady elevated flight, high in air, wings beating slower now, beating strongly and regularly, carrying us swiftly and surely from zone to zone as we cry ko-hoh, ko-hoh, with all the earth stretched out far below.”