[CHAPTER VI] _A Merry Adventure_
"Talking about men," said the cuckoo, in a harsh but not veryunpleasant voice, "reminds me of a funny adventure I once had myself. Iwas sitting in my nest one day, at the time when I was quite young,when suddenly a man appeared before me. You must know that this nest,which was rather carelessly built by my mother, was in a thickevergreen tree, and not very high from the ground; so that I found theman's eyes staring squarely into my own.
"Most of you, my dears, have seen men; but this was the strangest sortof man you can imagine. There was white hair upon his face, so longthat it hung down to his middle, and over his eyes were round platesof glass that glittered very curiously. I was so astonished at seeingthe queer creature that I sat still and stared, and this was myundoing. For suddenly there came a rapid 'whish!' through the air, anda network of cords fell all around and over me. Then, indeed, I spreadmy wings and attempted to fly; but it was too late. I struggled in thenet without avail, and soon gave up the conflict in breathless despair.
"My captor did not intend to kill me, however. Instead, he tried tosoothe my fright, and carried me very gently for many, many miles,until we came to a village of houses. Here, at the very top of a highhouse, the man lived in one little room. It was all littered with toolsand bits of wood, and on a broad shelf were several queer things thatwent 'tick-tock! tick-tock!' every minute. I was thrust, gently enough,into a wooden cage, where I lay upon the bottom more dead than alivebecause the ticking things at first scared me dreadfully and I was inconstant terror lest I should be tortured or killed. But the glass-eyedold man brought me dainty things to eat, and plenty of fresh water torelieve my thirst, and by the next day my heart had stopped goingpitty-pat and I was calm enough to stand up in my cage and look aroundme.
"My white-whiskered captor sat at a bench with his coat off and hisbald head bare, while he worked away busily putting little wheels andsprings together, and fitting them into a case of wood. When one ofthem was finished it would sing 'tick-tock! tick-tock!' just like theother queer things on the shelf, and this constant ticking sointerested me that I raised my head and called:
"'Cuck-oo! cuck-oo!'"
"'That's it!' cried the old man, delightedly. 'That's what I wanted tohear. It's the real cuckoo at last, and not a bit like those cheapimitations.'
"I didn't understand at first what he meant, but he worked at his benchall day, and finally brought to my cage a bird made out of wood, thatwas carved and painted to look just as I was. It seemed so natural thatI flapped my wings and called 'cuck-oo' to it, and the man pressed alittle bellows at the bottom of the bird and made it say 'cuck-oo!' inreturn. But that cry was so false and unreal that I just shouted withlaughter, and the glass-eyed old man shook his head sadly and said:'That will never do. That will never do in the world.'
"So all the next day he worked hard trying to make his wooden bird say'cuck-oo!' in the proper way; and at last it really spoke quitenaturally, so that it startled even me when I heard it. This seemed toplease my captor very much; so he put it inside one of the tickingthings on the shelf, and by-and-by a door opened and the wooden birdjumped out and cried 'Cuck-oo! Cuck-oo! Cuck-oo!' and then jumped backagain and the door closed with a snap.
"'Bravo!' cried old white-hair; but I was rather annoyed, for I thoughtthe wooden bird was impudent in trying to ape the ways of live cuckoos.I shouted back a challenge to it, but there was no reply. An hourlater, and every hour, it repeated the performance, but jumped behindthe door when I offered to fight it.
"The next day the man was absent from the room, and I had nothing toeat. So I became angry and uneasy. I scratched away at the wooden barsof my cage and tried to twist them with my beak, and at last one ofthem, to my great joy, came loose, and I was able to squeeze myself outof the cage.
"But then I was no better off than before, because the windows and thedoor of the room were fast shut. I grew more cross and ill-temperedthan before, when I discovered this, and to add to my annoyance thatmiserable wooden bird would every once in awhile jump out and yell'Cuck-oo!' and then bounce back into its house again, without daring toargue with me.
"This at last made me frantic with rage, and I resolved to be revenged.The next time the wooden bird made its appearance I new upon it in aflash and knocked it off the little platform before it had uttered itscry more than twice. It fell upon the floor and broke one of its wings;but in an instant I dashed myself upon it and bit and scratched theimpudent thing until there was not a bit of paint left upon it. Itshead came off, too, and so did its legs and the other wing, and beforeI was done with it no one ever would have known it was once a cleverimitation of myself. Finding that I was victorious I cried 'Cuck-oo!'in triumph, and just then the little door of the ticking thing openedand the platform where the wooden bird had stood came out of it andremained for a time motionless. I quickly flew up and perched upon it,and shouted 'Cuck-oo!' again, in great glee. As I did so, to myamazement the platform on which I stood leaped backward, carrying mewith it, and the next instant the door closed with a snap and I foundmyself in darkness.
"Wildly I fluttered my wings; but it was of no use. I was in a prisonmuch worse than the cage, and so small that I could hardly turn aroundin it. I was about to die of terror and despair when I chanced toremember that at certain times the door would open to push out the birdand allow it to say 'Cuck-oo!' before it shut again. So, the next timeit opened in this way, I would be able to make my escape.
"Very patiently I waited in the dark little hole, listening to thesteady 'tick-tock!' of the machinery behind me and trying not to benervous. After awhile I heard the old man come into the room andexclaim sorrowfully because his captive cuckoo had escaped from itscage. He could not imagine what had become of me, and I kept still andlaughed to myself to think how I would presently surprise him.
"It seemed an age before I finally heard the click that opened the doorin front of me. Then the platform on which I sat sprang out, and Ifluttered my wings and yelled 'Cuck-oo! Cuck-oo!' as loud as I could.The old man was standing right in front of me, his mouth wide open withastonishment at the wonderfully natural performance of his wooden bird,as he thought me. He shouted 'Bravo!' again, and clapped his hands; andat that I flew straight into his face, and clawed his white hair withall my might, and screamed as loud as I could.
"He screamed, too, being taken by surprise, and tumbled over backwardso that he sat down upon the floor with a loud bump. I flew to thework-bench, and then the truth dawned upon him that I was not thewooden bird but the real one.
"'Good gracious!' said he, 'I've left the window open. The rascal willescape!'
"I glanced at the window and saw that it was indeed wide open. Thesight filled me with triumphant joy. Before the old man could get uponhis feet and reach the window I had perched upon the sill, and with oneparting cry of 'Cuck-oo!' I spread my wings and flew straight into theair.
"Well, I never went back to enquire if he enjoyed the trick I hadplayed upon him, but I've laughed many a time when I thought of the oldfellow's comic expression when a real cuckoo instead of a painted oneflew out of his ticking machine."
As the cuckoo ended his tale the other birds joined in a chorus ofshrill laughter; but Chubbins said to them, gravely:
"He was a smart man, though, to make a cuckoo-clock. I saw one myself,one time, and it was a wonderful thing. The cuckoo told what time itwas every hour."
"Was it made of wood?" asked the bluejay.
"I don't know that," replied the boy-lark; "but of course it wasn't areal bird."
"It only shows," remarked the bobolink, "how greatly those humansadmire us birds. They make pictures of us, and love to keep us in cagesso they can hear us sing, and they even wear us in their bonnets afterwe are dead."
"I think that is a dreadful thing," said the goldfinch, with a shudder."But it only proves that men are our greatest enemies."
"Don't forget the women," said Twinkle. "It's the women that wear birdsin their hats."
"Mank
ind," said Robin Redbreast, gravely, "is the most destructive andbloodthirsty of all the brute creation. They not only kill for food,but through vanity and a desire for personal adornment. I have evenheard it said that they kill for amusement, being unable to restraintheir murderous desires. In this they are more cruel than theserpents."
"There is some excuse for the poor things," observed the bluejay, "fornature created them dependent upon the animals and birds and fishes.Having neither fur nor feathers to protect their poor skinny bodies,they wear clothing made of the fleece of sheep, and skins of seals andbeavers and otters and even the humble muskrats. They cover their feetand their hands with skins of beasts; they sleep upon the feathers ofbirds; their food is the flesh of beasts and birds and fishes. Nocreated thing is so dependent upon others as man; therefore he is thegreatest destroyer in the world. But he is not alone in his murderous,despoiling instinct. While you rail at man, my friends, do not forgetthat birds are themselves the greatest enemies of birds."
"Nonsense!" cried the magpie, indignantly.
"Perhaps the less you say about this matter the better," declared thebluejay, swinging his club in a suggestive manner, and looking sharplyat the magpie.
"It's a slander," said the blackbird. "I'm sure you can't accuse _me_of injuring birds in any way."
"If you are all innocent, why are we obliged to have a policeman?"enquired the little wren, in a nervous voice.
"Tell me," said Twinkle, appealing to the bluejay; "are the big birdsreally naughty to the little ones?"
"Why, it is the same with us as it is with men," replied the policeman."There are good ones and bad ones among us, and the bad ones have to bewatched. Men destroy us wantonly; other animals and the sly serpentsprey upon us and our eggs for food; but these are open enemies, and weknow how we may best avoid them. Our most dangerous foes are thosebandits of our own race who, instead of protecting their brethren,steal our eggs and murder our young. They are not always the biggestbirds, by any means, that do these things. The crow family is known tobe treacherous, and the shrike is rightly called the 'butcher-bird,'but there are many others that we have reason to suspect feed upontheir own race."
"How dreadful!" exclaimed the girl-lark.
The birds all seemed restless and uneasy at this conversation, andlooked upon one another with suspicious glances. But the bluejaysoothed them by saying:
"After all, I suppose we imagine more evil than really exists, andsometimes accuse our neighbors wrongfully. But the mother birds knowhow often their nests have been robbed in their absence, and if theysuspect some neighbor of the crime instead of a prowling animal it isbut natural, since many birds cannot be trusted. There are laws in theforest, of course; but the guilty ones are often able to escape. I'lltell you of a little tragedy that happened only last week, which willprove how apt we are to be mistaken."