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Updated: June 11, 2025
All at once came from the field on the right, rising and falling, now apparently close at hand, then as though far-off, a peculiar cry "Creek creek; creek creek," for about a dozen times, when there was a pause. Then again, the peculiarly harsh creaking cry was heard. "There's an old meadow-crake," said Harry, who was holding the kite: "let's go and hunt him up; perhaps we could catch it."
The eggs were put in Fred's handkerchief, for Harry's and Philip's were left a hundred yards high in the air, when they went in chase of the meadow-crake; and then they went across the field to where the kite stick was left.
"Creek creek," sang the landrail or meadow-crake, apparently a quarter of a mile off. "Come on, boys," said Harry again, running off with a half limp, closely followed by Philip and Fred. "Creek creek," said the landrail, far enough down, away from where it had been heard at first. "There's an old stupid," said Philip; "why, where are you?" he continued.
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