the song of the cardinal-第4章

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passed。　　He　had　little　trouble　with　the　robins。　　They　were　easily

conquered；　and　with　small　protest　settled　a　rod　up　the　bank　in　a

wild…plum　tree；　but　the　air　was　thick　with　〃chips；〃　chatter；　and

red　and　black　feathers；　before　the　blackbirds　acknowledged

defeat。　　They　were　old…timers；　and　knew　about　the　grubs　and　the

young　corn；　but　they　also　knew　when　they　were　beaten；　so　they

moved　down　stream　to　a　scrub　oak；　trying　to　assure　each　other

that　it　was　the　place　they　really　had　wanted　from　the　first。



The　Cardinal　was　left　boasting　and　strutting　in　the　sumac；　but　in

his　heart　he　found　it　lonesome　business。　　Being　the　son　of　a

king；　he　was　much　too　dignified　to　beg　for　a　mate；　and　besides；

it　took　all　his　time　to　guard　the　sumac；　but　his　eyes　were　wide

open　to　all　that　went　on　around　him；　and　he　envied　the　blackbird

his　glossy；　devoted　little　sweetheart；　with　all　his　might。　　He

almost　strained　his　voice　trying　to　rival　the　love…song　of　a

skylark　that　hung　among　the　clouds　above　a　meadow　across　the

river；　and　poured　down　to　his　mate　a　story　of　adoring　love　and

sympathy。　　He　screamed　a　〃Chip〃　of　such　savage　jealousy　at　a　pair

of　killdeer　lovers　that　he　sent　them　scampering　down　the　river

bank　without　knowing　that　the　crime　of　which　they　stood　convicted

was　that　of　being　mated　when　he　was　not。　　As　for　the　doves　that

were　already　brooding　on　the　line　fence　beneath　the　maples；　the

Cardinal　was　torn　between　two　opinions。



He　was　alone；　he　was　love…sick；　and　he　was　holding　the　finest

building　location　beside　the　shining　river　for　his　mate；　and　her

slowness　in　coming　made　their　devotion　difficult　to　endure　when

he　coveted　a　true　love；　but　it　seemed　to　the　Cardinal　that　he

never　could　so　forget　himself　as　to　emulate　the　example　of　that

dove　lover。　　The　dove　had　no　dignity；　he　was　so　effusive　he　was　a

nuisance。　　He　kept　his　dignified　Quaker　mate　stuffed　to

discomfort；　he　clung　to　the　side　of　the　nest　trying　to　help　brood

until　he　almost　crowded　her　from　the　eggs。　　He　pestered　her　with

caresses　and　cooed　over　his　love…song　until　every　chipmunk　on　the

line　fence　was　familiar　with　his　story。　　The　Cardinal's　temper

was　worn　to　such　a　fine　edge　that　he　darted　at　the　dove　one　day

and　pulled　a　big　tuft　of　feathers　from　his　back。　　When　he　had

returned　to　the　sumac；　he　was　compelled　to　admit　that　his　anger

lay　quite　as　much　in　that　he　had　no　one　to　love　as　because　the

dove　was　disgustingly　devoted。



Every　morning　brought　new　arrivalstrim　young　females　fresh　from

their　long　holiday；　and　big　boastful　males　appearing　their

brightest　and　bravest；　each　singer　almost　splitting　his　throat　in

the　effort　to　captivate　the　mate　he　coveted。　　They　came　flashing

down　the　river　bank；　like　rockets　of　scarlet；　gold；　blue；　and

black；　rocking　on　the　willows；　splashing　in　the　water；　bursting

into　jets　of　melody；　making　every　possible　display　of　their

beauty　and　music；　and　at　times　fighting　fiercely　when　they

discovered　that　the　females　they　were　wooing　favoured　their

rivals　and　desired　only　to　be　friendly　with　them。



The　heart　of　the　Cardinal　sank　as　he　watched。　　There　was　not　a

member　of　his　immediate　family　among　them。　　He　pitied　himself　as

he　wondered　if　fate　had　in　store　for　him　the　trials　he　saw　others

suffering。　　Those　dreadful　feathered　females！　How　they　coquetted！

How　they　flirted！　How　they　sleeked　and　flattened　their　plumage；

and　with　half…open　beaks　and　sparkling　eyes；　hopped　closer　and

closer　as　if　charmed。　　The　eager　singers；　with　swelling　throats；

sang　and　sang　in　a　very　frenzy　of　extravagant　pleading；　but　just

when　they　felt　sure　their　little　loves　were　on　the　point　of

surrender；　a　rod　distant　above　the　bushes　would　go　streaks　of

feathers；　and　there　was　nothing　left　but　to　endure　the　bitter

disappointment；　follow　them；　and　begin　all　over。　　For　the　last

three　days　the　Cardinal　had　been　watching　his　cousin；

rose…breasted　Grosbeak；　make　violent　love　to　the　most　exquisite

little　female；　who　apparently　encouraged　his　advances；　only　to

see　him　left　sitting　as　blue　and　disconsolate　as　any　human　lover；

when　he　discovers　that　the　maid　who　has　coquetted　with　him　for　a

season　belongs　to　another　man。



The　Cardinal　flew　to　the　very　top　of　the　highest　sycamore　and

looked　across　country　toward　the　Limberlost。　　Should　he　go　there

seeking　a　swamp　mate　among　his　kindred？　　It　was　not　an　endurable

thought。　　To　be　sure；　matters　were　becoming　serious。　　No　bird

beside　the　shining　river　had　plumed；　paraded；　or　made　more　music

than　he。　　Was　it　all　to　be　wasted？　　By　this　time　he　confidently

had　expected　results。　　Only　that　morning　he　had　swelled　with

pride　as　he　heard　Mrs。　Jay　tell　her　quarrelsome　husband　that　she

wished　she　could　exchange　him　for　the　Cardinal。　　Did　not　the

gentle　dove　pause　by　the　sumac；　when　she　left　brooding　to　take

her　morning　dip　in　the　dust；　and　gaze　at　him　with　unconcealed

admiration？　　No　doubt　she　devoutly　wished　her　plain　pudgy　husband

wore　a　scarlet　coat。　　But　it　is　praise　from　one's　own　sex　that　is

praise　indeed；　and　only　an　hour　ago　the　lark　had　reported　that

from　his　lookout　above　cloud　he　saw　no　other　singer　anywhere　so

splendid　as　the　Cardinal　of　the　sumac。　　Because　of　these　things

he　held　fast　to　his　conviction　that　he　was　a　prince　indeed；　and

he　decided　to　remain　in　his　chosen　location　and　with　his　physical

and　vocal　attractions　compel　the　finest　little　cardinal　in　the

fields　to　seek　him。



He　planned　it　all　very　carefully：　how　she　would　hear　his　splendid

music　and　come　to　take　a　peep　at　him；　how　she　would　be　captivated

by　his　size　and　beauty；　how　she　would　come　timidly；　but　come；　of

course；　for　his　approval；　how　he　would　condescend　to　accept　her

if　she　pleased　him　in　all　particulars；　how　she　would　be　devoted

to　him；　and　how　she　would　approve　his　choice　of　a　home；　for　the

sumac　was　in　a　lovely　spot　for　scenery；　as　well　as　nest…building。



For　several　days　he　had　boasted；　he　had　bantered；　he　had

challenged；　he　had　on　this　last　day　almost　condescended　to

coaxing；　but　not　one　little　bright…eyed　cardinal　female　had　come

to　offer　herself。



The　performance　of　a　brown　thrush　drove　him　wild　with　envy。　　The

thrush　came　gliding　up　the　river　bank；　a　rusty…coated；　sneaking

thing　of　the　underbrush；　and　taking　possession　of　a　thorn　bush

just　opposite　the　sumac；　he　sang　for　an　hour　in　the　open。　　There

was　no　way　to　improve　that　music。　　It　was　woven　fresh　from　the

warp　and　woof　of　his　fancy。　　It　was　a　song　so　filled　with　the　joy

and　gladness　of　spring；　notes　so　thrilled　with　love's　pleading

and　passion's　tender　pulsing　pain；　that　at　its　close　there　were　a

half…dozen　admiring　thrush　females　gathered　around。　　With　care

and　deliberation　the　brown　thrush　selected　the　most　attractive；

and　she　followed　him　to　the　thicket　as　if　charmed。



It　was　the　Cardinal's　dream　materialized　for　another　before　his

very　eyes；　and　it　filled　him　with　envy。　　If　that　plain　brown　bird

that　slinked　as　if　he　had　a　theft　to　account　for；　could；　by

showing　himself　and　singing　for　an　hour；　win　a　mate；　why　should

not　he；　the　most　gorgeous　bird　of　the　woods；　openly　flaunting　his

charms　and　discoursing　his　music；　have　at　least　equal　success？　

Should　he；　the　proudest；　most　magnificent　of　cardinals；　be

compelled　to　go　seeking　a　mate　like　any　common　bird？　　Perish　the

thought！



He　went　to　the　river　to　bathe。　　After　finding　a　spot　where　the

water　flowed　crystal…clear　over　a　bed　of　white　limestone；　he

washed　until　he　felt　that　he　could　be　no　cleaner。　　Then　the

Cardinal　went　to　his　favourite　sun…parlour；　and　stretching　on　a

limb；　he　stood　his　feathers　on　end；　and　sunned；　fluffed　and

prinked　until　he　was　immaculate。



On　the　tip…top　antler　of　the　old　stag　sumac；　he　perched　and

strained　until　his　jetty　whiskers　appeared　stubby。　　He　poured　out

a　tumultuous　cry　vibrant　with　every　passion　raging　in　him。　　He

caught　up　his　own　rolling　echoes　and　changed　and　varied　them。　　He

improvised；　and　set　the　shining　river　ringing；　〃Wet　year！　Wet

year！〃



He　whistled　and　whistled　until　all　birdland　and　even　mankind

heard；　for　the　farmer　paused　at　his　kitchen　door；　with　his　pails

of　foaming　milk；　and　called　to　his　wife：



〃Hear　that；　Maria！　Jest　hear　it！　I　swanny；　if　that　bird　doesn't

stop　predictin'　wet　weather；　I'll　get　so　scared　I　won't　durst　put

in　my　corn　afore　June。　　They's　some　birds　like　killdeers　an'

bobwhites　'at　can　make　things　pretty　plain；　but　I　never　heard　a

bird　'at　could　jest　speak　words　out　clear　an'　distinct　like　that

fellow。　　Seems　to　come　from　the　river　bottom。　　B'lieve　I'll　jest

step　down　that　way　an'　see　if　the　lower　field　is　ready　for　the

plow　yet。〃



〃Abram　Johnson；〃　said　his　wife；　〃bein's　you　set　up　for　an　honest

man；　if　you　want　to　trapse　through　slush　an'　drizzle　a　half…mile

to　see　a　bird；　why　say　so；　but　don't　for　land's　sake　lay　it　on　to

plowin'　'at　you　know　in　all　conscience　won't　be　ready　for　a　week

yet　'thout　pretendin'　to　look。〃



Abram　grinned　sheepishly。　　〃I'm　willin'　to　call　it　the　bird　if

you　are；　Maria。　　I've　been　hearin'　him　from　the　barn　all　day；　an'

there's　somethin'　kind　o'　human　in　his　notes　'at　takes　me　jest　a

little　diffrunt　from　any　other　bird　I　ever　noticed。　　I'm　really

curious　to　set　eyes　on　him。　　Seemed　to　me　from　his　singin'　out　to

the　barn；　it　'ud　be　mighty　near　like　meetin'　folks。〃



〃Bosh！〃　exclaimed　Maria。　　〃I　don't　s'pose　he　sings　a　mite　better

'an　any　other　bird。　　It's　jest　the　old　Wabash　rollin'　up　the

echoes。　　A　bird　singin'　beside　the　river　always　sounds　twicet　as

fine　as　one　on　the　hills。　　I've　knowed　that　for　forty　year。

Chances　are　'at　he'll　be　gone　'fore　you　get　there。〃



As　Abram　opened　the　door；　〃Wet　year！　Wet　year！〃　pealed　the

flaming　prophet。



He　went　out；　closing　the　door　softly；　and　with　an　utter　disregard

for　the　corn　field；　made　a　bee　line　for　the　musician。



〃I　don't　know　as　this　is　the　best　for　twinges　o'　rheumatiz；〃　he

muttered；　as　he　turned　up　his　collar　and　drew　his　old　hat　lower

to　keep　the　splashing　drops　from　his　face。　　〃I　don't　jest　rightly

s'pose　I　should　go；　but　I'm　free　to　admit　I'd　as　lief　be　dead　as

not　to　answer　when　I　get　a　call；　an'　the　fact　is；　I'm　CALLED　down

beside　the　river。〃



〃Wet　year！　Wet　year！〃　rolled　the　Cardinal's　prediction。



〃Thanky；　old　fellow！　　Glad　to　hear　you！　　Didn't　jest　need　the

information；　but　I　got　my　bearin's　rightly　from　it！　I　can　about

pick　out　your　bush；　an'　it's　well　along　towards　evenin'；　too；　an'

must　be　mighty　near　your　bedtime。　　Looks　as　if　you　might　be

stayin'　round　these　parts！　　I'd　like　it　powerful　well　if　you'd

settle　right　here；　say　'bout　where　you　are。　　An'　where　are　you；

anyway？〃



Abram　went　peering　and　dodging　beside　the　fence；　peeping　into　the

bushes；　searching　for　the　bird。　　Suddenly　there　was　a　whir　of

wings　and　a　streak　of　crimson。



〃Scared　you　into　the　next　county；　I　s'pose；〃　he　muttered。



But　it　came　nearer　being　a　scared　m