isn't a proper place in which to bring up young Ducks and make them
strong and healthy. In the second place there are more dangers down
there for young Ducks than up in the far Northland. In the third
place there isn't room for all the Ducks to nest properly. And
lastly there is a great longing for our real home, which Old Mother
Nature has put in our hearts and which just MAKES us go. We couldn't
be happy if we didn't."

"Is the journey back as bad as the journey down?" asked Peter.

"Worse, very much worse," replied Mrs. Quack sadly. "You can see
for yourself just how bad it is, for here I am all alone." Tears
filled Mrs. Quack's eyes. "It is almost too terrible to talk about,"
she continued after a minute. "You see, for one thing, food isn't
as plentiful as it is in the fall, and we just have to go wherever
it is to be found. Those two-legged creatures know where those
feeding-grounds are just as well as we do, and they hide there with
their terrible guns just as they did when we were coming south.
But it is much worse now, very much worse. You see, when we were
going the other way, if we found them at one place we could go on
to another, but when we are going north we cannot always do that.
We cannot go any faster than Jack Frost does. Sometimes we are
driven out of a place by the bang, bang of the terrible guns and go
on, only to find that we have caught up with Jack Frost, and that
the ponds and the rivers are still covered with ice. Then there
is nothing to do but to turn back to where those terrible guns are
waiting for us. We just HAVE to do it."

Mrs. Quack stopped and shivered. "It seems to me I have heard nothing
but the noise of those terrible guns ever since we started," said