"What are you crying for?" asked Daddy, but I couldn't answer. Theydid not know that I did it for myself, that pride, whose slave I was, spoke to melouder than all their voices, and that Doodle walked only because I wasashamed of having a crippled brother."
The eldest son then showed his parents what he taught doodle, and the pride overwhelmed him, in good ways and bad.
"Dead birds is bad luck," said Aunt Nicey, poking her head from thekitchen door. "Specially red dead birds!"
A Scarlet Ibis had fallen from the tree to its death, in which Doodle had buried. Aunt Nicey had given them a warning.
As the boys were running back from the lake. Doodle had taken a fall, although his brother did not stop or wait for him.
"He had been bleeding from themouth, and his neck and the front of his shirt were stained a brilliant red."Doodle! Doodle!" I cried, shaking him, but there was no answer but theropy rain."