[CHAPTER XI] _The Orphans_
The eagle now bade them good-bye and flew away in search of prey, whilethe bluejay and the child-larks directed their flight toward that partof the great forest where they lived.
"Are you sure the men have gone?" asked Chubbins.
"Yes," replied the policeman; "they left the forest as soon as they hadshot Jolly Joe, for the brown bear was so heavy that they had to carryhim on a pole resting across their shoulders. I hope they won't comeagain very soon."
"Did they take Mrs. Hootaway with them?" asked Twinkle.
"Yes; she will probably be stuffed, poor thing!"
Presently they passed near the rosy glow that lighted up the center ofthe forest with its soft radiance, and the girl said:
"That is the Paradise Land, where the Birds of Paradise live. The eaglehas promised to ask one of those birds to let us visit their country."
"Oh, I can do better than that, if you wish to visit the Paradise,"responded the bluejay; "for the Guardian of the Entrance is a specialfriend of mine, and will do whatever I ask him to."
"Will he, really?" asked the girl, in delight.
"To be sure. Some day I will take you over there, and then you will seewhat powerful friends Policeman Bluejay has."
"I'd like that," declared Twinkle.
Their swift flight enabled them to cover the remaining distance veryrapidly, and soon they were at home again.
They first flew to the nest of the goldfinches, which was in a tree notfar from the maple where the lark-children lived. There they found thetiny birds, who were yet so new that they were helpless indeed. Mrs.Redbreast was sitting by the nest when they arrived, and she said:
"The poor orphans are still hungry, although I have fed them all theinsects I could find near. But I am glad that you have come, for it istime I was at home looking after my own little ones."
"Chubbins and I have 'dopted the goldfinches," said Twinkle, "so we willlook after them now. But it was very nice of you, Mrs. Redbreast, totake take care of them until we arrived."
"Well, I like to be neighborly," returned the pretty bird; "and as longas cruel men enter our forest no mother can tell how soon her ownlittle ones will be orphaned and left helpless."
"That is true," said the policeman, nodding gravely.
So Mrs. Redbreast flew away and now Chubbins looked curiously into thenest, where several fluffy heads were eagerly lifted with their billsas wide open as they could possibly stretch.
"They must be just _awful_ hungry, Twink," said the boy.
"Oh, they're always like that," observed Policeman Bluejay, calmly."When anyone is around they open their mouths to be fed, whether theyare hungry or not. It's the way with birdlets."
"What shall we feed them?" asked Twinkle.
"Oh, anything at all; they are not particular," said the bluejay, andthen he flew away and left the child-larks to their new and interestingtask.
"I'll be the father, and you be the mother," said Chubbins.
"All right," answered Twinkle.
"Peep! peep! peep!" said the tiny goldfinches.
"I wonder if the luncheon in our basket would agree with them,"remarked the girl, looking at the open mouths reflectively as sheperched her own brown body upon the edge of the deep nest.
"Might try it," suggested the boy. "The cop says they're notparticular, and what's good enough for us ought to be good enough forthem."
So they flew to where the basket hung among the thick leaves of thetree, which had served to prevent the men from discovering it, andcrept underneath the cloth that covered it.
"Which do you think they'd like best," asked Chubbins, "the pickles orthe cheese?"
"Neither one," Twinkle replied. "The sandwiches will be best for them.Wait; I'll pick out some of the meat that is between the slices ofbread. They'll be sure to like that."
"Of course," agreed Chubbins, promptly. "They'll think it's bugs."
So each one dragged out a big piece of meat from a sandwich, and byholding it fast in one claw they managed to fly with the burden to thenest of the goldfinch babies.
"Don't give it to 'em all at once," cautioned the girl. "It would choke'em."
"I know," said Chubbins.
He tore off a tiny bit of the meat and dropped it into one of thewide-open bills. Instantly it was gone and the mouth was open again formore. They tried to divide the dinner equally among them, but they alllooked so alike and were so ravenous to eat everything that was droppedinto their bills that it was hard work to keep track of which had beenfed and which had not. But the child-larks were positive that each onehad had enough to keep it from starving, because there was a big bunchin front of each little breast that was a certain proof of a full crop.
The next task of the guardians was to give the birdlets drink; soTwinkle and Chubbins flew to the brook and by hunting around a whilethey found an acorn-cup that had fallen from one of the oak trees. Thisthey filled with water, and then Twinkle, who was a trifle larger thanthe boy-lark, clutched the cup firmly with her toes and flew back tothe orphans without spilling more than a few drops. They managed topour some of the water into each open mouth, and then Twinkle said:
"There! they won't die of either hunger or thirst in a hurry, Chub. Sonow we can feed ourselves."
"Their mouths are still open," returned the boy, doubtfully.
"It must be a habit they have," she answered. "Wouldn't you thinkthey'd get tired stretching their bills that way?"
"Peep! peep! peep!" cried the baby goldfinches.
"You see," said the boy, with a wise look, "they don't know any better.I had a dog once that howled every time we shut him up. But if we lethim alone he stopped howling. We'll go and get something to eat and letthese beggars alone a while. Perhaps they'll shut their mouths by thetime we get back again."
"Maybe," replied Twinkle.
They got their own luncheon from the basket, and afterward perched onthe tree near the nest of the little goldfinches. They did not feel atall comfortable in their old nest in the maple, because they could notforget the tragic deaths of the inhabitants of the three hollows in thetree--the three "flats" as poor Wisk had merrily called them.
During the afternoon several of the birds came to call upon theorphans, and they all nodded approval when they found the child-larkswatching over the little ones. Twinkle questioned some of the mothersanxiously about that trick the babies had of keeping their bills openand crying for food, but she was told to pay no attention to suchactions.
Nevertheless, the pleadings of the orphans, who were really stuffedfull of food, made the child-larks so nervous that they hailed withdelight the arrival of Policeman Bluejay in the early evening. The busyofficer had brought with him Mrs. Chaffinch, a widow whose husband hadbeen killed a few days before by a savage wildcat.
Mrs. Chaffinch declared she would be delighted to become a mother tothe little goldfinches, and rear them properly. She had always had goodsuccess in bringing up her own children, she claimed, and thegoldfinches were first cousins to the chaffinches, so she was sure tounderstand their ways perfectly.
Twinkle did not want to give up her charges at first, as she had becomeinterested in them; but Chubbins heaved a sigh of relief and declaredhe was glad the "restless little beggars" had a mother that knew moreabout them than he did. The bluejay hinted that he considered thewidow's experience would enable her to do more for the baby goldfinchesthan could a child-lark who had never yet laid an egg, and so Twinklewas forced to yield to his superior judgment.
Mrs. Chaffinch settled herself in a motherly manner upon the nest, andthe two bird-children bade her good-night and returned to their ownmaple tree, where they had a rather wakeful night, because Chubbinsthoughtlessly suggested that the place might be haunted by the ghostsof the gray owl, Wisk, and Mrs. 'Possum.
But either the poor things had no ghosts or they were too polite tobother the little child-larks.