and looking down at it, "and that's more than you can do, with your
lobster's claw of a nose."
Cockatoo had hit the truth about the thumbs, for no ape can make them
go around, only in and out straight to the palm. This matter of thumbs
is the great line of defence between man and his disputed Simian
ancestor.
"Our manner of life," began Hanuman, in the little silence that ensued,
"is to live in the tree-tops. Our families are raised there, and we are
seldom on the ground."
"No, the ground is a dangerous place," concurred Chimpanzee; "Leopards,
and Snakes, and Men, and evil things of that sort about all the time.
I, too, build a little house in the strong branches of a tree, and live
there until the fruit gets scarce; then, of course, I have to go to a
new part and build another."
"I thought I was the only animal that had sense enough to build a
house," grunted Wild Boar.
"Perhaps you are," said Chimpanzee; "I'm no animal."
"You are a Monkey----" began Boar, apologetically.
"I'm not a Monkey," insisted the other, very haughtily; "they go in
droves. But we, who are the Jungle People, build houses and have a wife
and family just like the Men."
"You can't twiddle your thumbs!" shrieked Cockatoo; but Hathi reached
up with his trunk and tweaked the bird's nose before he could repeat
the taunt.
"Once upon a time," began Hooluk, solemnly, "there was a great Raja
sore troubled because those of my kind, the Apes, ate all the grain and
fruit in his country. To be sure, it was a year of much starvation. And
the King commanded that all the Bandar-log should be killed.
"Then Hanuman, the wise Ape, who was our cousin, asked of my people
what might be done; but we, being tender-hearted, and not knowing how
to pacify the King, hung with our heads down and wept in misery.
"Now this gave Hanuman, who is most wise, an idea. He ordered all the
other Bandar-log to go far into the jungles and hide, while we were to
remain and lament, and declare that our friends were dead. The Raja,
hearing our sad cry, relented, and commanded that the killing should
cease. And since that time we have always cried thus, and our faces
have been black, and all because of the dark sins of the other
Bandar-log."
"Was there ever such a lie----" began Pardus; but Jackal interrupted
him, declaring that he, too, cried at night because of the wickedness
of other Jungle Dwellers.
"By my lonesome life!" muttered Mooswa. "I have heard the Loon cry on
Slave Lake, but for a real, depressing night noise commend me to
Hooluk. I have no doubt his tale is quite true, a cry such as he has
could not have been given him for amusement."
"Scratch my head!" cried Cockatoo; "I think Hooluk's tale is quite
true, for even I, who am only appreciated because of my beauty----"
"Hide your nose," croaked Kauwa, the Crow.
"Because of my beauty," resumed Cockatoo, "I once saved the life of all
my Master's family. The bungalow was on fire and they were asleep.
Scree-ya ah-ah!' I cried; then, 'Quick, Pootai, bring the water----'"
"To be famous one must needs know a great lie and tell it," snarled
Pardus, disagreeably. "The way of all Jungle Dwellers is to kill
something; but here are pot-bellied, empty-headed Apes, and Birds of
little sense, all boasting of saving lives."
"Let me talk," cried Water Monkey, scratching his ribs with industry.
"If I tell not true tales then call Hornbill, and Jackal, and King
Cobra to stand against me, for we are all of the same land. We were a
big family, a full hundred of us at least, and every way was our
way--water, and land, and tree-top. We ate fruits, and nuts, and
grains, and things that are cast up by the waters. Talking of fishing,
you should have seen my mother. When the sea had gone back from the
shore we would all troop down. When the Crabs saw us coming they would
scuttle into holes and under rocks, and we'd catch every Crab on the
shore. It was my mother taught me the trick--wise old lady; I'd shove
my tail under the rock, the Crab would lay hold of it, and then out
he'd come.
"Oh, there was good eating on those shores. Fat Oysters the size of a
banana. It was mother showed me how to take a stone in my hand, and
break them off the rocks. And, as Magh has said, we are much like the
men, for not one of our family would eat an Oyster until he had washed
it in the water.
"But we poor people had lots of trials. Crossing the streams was worst
of all. If we made the Monkeys bridge from tree to tree, like as not
Python would be lying in wait to pick off one of our number. And if we
walked across on the bottom----"
"Walked on the bottom!" cried Sa'-zada, in astonishment.
"Yes, we never swim; we always walk across on the bottom; though,
sometimes, of course, we floated over on logs; but that was very
dangerous because of Magar the Crocodile."
"Ghurrgle-ugle-ugle, uh-hu!" said Sher Abi, "the long-tailed one is
right. I could tell a true story touching that matter. Whuff-f-f! but
it was a hot day. I was lying with my wife in the water near the bank.
I was hungry--I am always hungry; and getting food in a small way is
wearisome to one of my heavy habit. I was resting, and Black-head the
Magar Bird was running about inside of my jaws catching Flies for his
dinner. And, while I think of it, while I am by no means vain of my
sweet nature, I claim it was most good of me to hold my heavy lips open
for him. Suddenly Black-head gave his little cry of warning to me and
flew up in the air. 'Something is coming,' I whispered to Abni, my
wife; and, sure enough, it was the Bandar-log, the Water Monkeys,
chattering and yelling, and knocking down fruit from the trees as
though the whole jungle belonged to them.
"'The old trick,' I whispered to Abni; 'float across like a log.' You
know I can look wondrous like a log when I try; and a dinner of the
Bandar-log, even, was not to be despised in a time of great hunger.
"'Chee-chee, a-houp-a-houp, chickety-chee-chee!' You'd have thought
their throats would split with the uproar when they saw one log
floating across and another just starting.
[Illustration: "AND THEY ALL CLAMBERED ON TO MY BACK."]
"'Oh, ho!' cried the leader, swinging by his tail from a limb of the
Mangrove tree, and peering down at me; 'the wind is driving all the
dead trees from this side to the other. Get aboard, children, quick.'
And they all clambered on to my back, shoving and pushing like a lot of
Jackal pups----"
"Have I not said it," cried Gidar, the Jackal, "that Sher Abi is a
devourer of our young? Jackal pups--murderer!"
"Half way across," resumed Sher Abi, "I opened an eye to take a squint
at the general condition of these Bandar-log, as to which might be fat
and which might be lean, and, would you believe it, the leader of these
fool people saw me looking, and screamed with fright. I closed all the
valves of nostrils and eyes and sank in the water. The Bandar-log were
so excited that more than half of them jumped into my jaws, and Abni,
who came back, hearing the noise, took care of the others. Eh-hu!
Gluck! Monkeys are stupid, but not bad eating."
"Listen to that, Comrades," cried Water Monkey. "Sher Abi the Poacher
boasts of killing my people. Have I not said that our life is one of
danger? He and Python are as bad as Men. My mother was killed by a Man,
and all for the sake of a few mangoes."
"But how are we to know that Mango-tree was not as others in the
Jungle?" pleaded Monkey. "True it grew close to a bungalow, but what of
that? Close to the Jungle, trees and bungalows are so mixed up that
nobody knows which is free land and which is bond land. Have I not seen
even the Men-kind frightened over such matters, and killing each other.
But, as I have said, this Man, who was a Sahib, shot my mother as she
was in a tree. She clung to a limb, and, young as I was, I helped her,
holding on to her arms. All day she cried, and cried, and cried, just
as you have heard the young of the Men-kind; and all night she cried,
too. In the morning the Sahib came out, and I heard him say that he
hadn't slept all night because of the wailing that was like a babe's.
When he looked up at my mother she became so afraid that she fell dead
at his feet. Peeping down through the leaves I saw the fear look that
Hathi has spoken of come into the Man's eyes, only they did not look
evil as they had when he pointed the fire-stick at us. I swung down
from branch to branch to my mother, and sitting beside her, cried also,
being but a little chap and all alone in the Jungle. Then the Man took
me up in his arms and said: 'Poor little Oungea. It was a shame to kill
the old girl; I feel like a murderer----'
"He took me into the bungalow and I had a fine life of it, though he
taught me many things that were evil."
"I don't believe that," sneered Pardus.
[Illustration: "AND SITTING BESIDE HER, CRIED ALSO, BEING BUT A LITTLE
CHAP AND ALL ALONE IN THE JUNGLE...."]
"Impossible! Caw-w!" laughed Kauwa.
"What evil tricks are there left to teach the Bandar-log?" queried
Hathi.
"He taught me to drink gin," answered Oungea; "at first a little gin
and much sugar, and after a time I could take it without sugar."
"This rather bears out Magh's claim that you Jungle People are like the
Men," said Sa'-zada.
"Still it was not good for me, this gin," continued Oungea; "leaving
one's head full of much soreness in the morning. But, of course, being
young, I was possessed of much mischief that was not of the Sahib's
teaching."
"He-he! no doubt, no doubt," cried Hornbill, "it was those of your
kind, both young and old, who plucked the feathers from my children
once upon a time. Plaintain-at-a-gulp! but their appearance was
unseemly. You can imagine what I should look like with my prominent
nose and no feathers."
"My Master carried in his pocket something that was forever crying
'tick, tick, tick.' I felt sure there must be Lizards or Spiders, or
other sweet ones of a small kind within; but one day when I had a fair
opportunity and pulled it apart, cracking it with a stone as I had the
Oysters, I got no eating at all, but in the end a sound beating.
"Once I ate the little berries that grow on the sticks that cause the
fire----"
"Matches," suggested Sa'-zada.
"Perhaps; I thought they were berries. Many pains! but I was sick, and
my kind Master saved my life with cocoanut oil."
"Magh knows something of that matter," declared Sa'-zada; "when she
first came here she ate her straw bedding and it nearly killed her."
"A fine record these Jungle People have," sneered Pardus. "I, who claim
not to be wise like the Men, have sense enough to stick to my meat."
"But Magh was wise," asserted Sa'-zada, "for if she had not helped us
in every way when we were trying to save her life she would surely have
died."
"In my Master's house," said Oungea, "was one of their young, a Babe;
and whenever I got loose, for they took to tying me up, I made straight
for his bed, borrowed his bottle of milk--there surely was no harm in
that, for we were babes together--and scuttled up a tree where I could
drink the milk in peace. When I dropped the bottle down so that they
might get it, it always broke, and I think it was because of this
mischief that they whipped me."
"Well," said Sa'-zada, "we were to have learned to-night why the
Bandar-log were Men of the Jungle, first cousins to the Men-kind; but
all I remember is that they ate matches and straw and got very sick.
For my part I am very sleepy."
"If you are tired, I will carry you, Hanuman," lisped Python, shoving
his ugly fat head forward.
"Even I, who find it a labor to walk on the land, will give any Monkey
who seeks it a ride," sighed Sher Abi. "This talking of eating has made
me hung----I mean ready to put myself out for my friends."
"Take your friends in, you mean," snarled Gidar, jumping back as the
heavy jaws of the Crocodile snapped within an inch of his nose.
"I think each one will look after himself," declared Sa'-zada; "it will
be safer. All to your cages."
Seventh Night
The Story of Birds of a Feather
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
SEVENTH NIGHT
THE STORY OF BIRDS OF A FEATHER
When Sa'-zada the Keeper had gathered all his comrades in front of
Chita's cage for the evening of the Bird talk, Magh clambered up on her
usual perch, Hathi's head, expostulating against the folly of throwing
the meeting open to such gabblers.
"Never mind," remarked Black Panther, "it's the great talkers that are
thought most of here, I see. We, who have accomplished much, having
earned an honest living, but are not over ready with the tongue, amount
to but little."
"Scree-he-ah-h!" cried Cockatoo. "By my crest! I am surely the oldest
one here; shall I begin, O Sa'-zada?"
"Cockatoo was born in Australia," declared Sa'-zada; "at least The Book
says so, but the record of his age only goes back a matter of forty
years."
"Just so," concurred the Cockatoo, "and from there I went to India on a
ship; and for downright evil words there is no Jungle to compare with
a ship. Why, damn it--excuse me, friends, even the memory of my voyage
causes me to swear.
"My master, who was Captain of the ship, gave me to one of the
Women-kind in Calcutta--'Mem-Sahib' the others called her. There I had
just the loveliest life any poor exiled Cockatoo could wish for; it
makes me swear--weep, I mean--when I think of the sweet Eatings she had
for me. Not but that Sa'-zada is kind, only no one but a Woman knows
how to look after a Cockatoo. At tiffin I was always allowed to come on
the table, and the Mem-Sahib would take the cream from the top of the
milk and give it to me. The Sahib threw pieces of bread at my head,
which is like a Man's way, having no regard for the dignity of a
Cockatoo.
"One day, being frightened because of something, I fluttered to the top
of his head, which was all bare of feathers, and verily I believe the
Man-fear, of which Hathi has spoken, came to my new master. I could
almost fancy I was back on the ship, for his language was much like
that of the fo'castle.
"Potai was the sweeper, a low-caste Hindoo of an evil presence; and
save for the fact that he wore no foot-covering I should have been in a
bad way. When the Mem-Sahib was not looking he beat me with his broom,
simply because, that often being lonesome, I'd call aloud, 'Potai!
Potai!' just to see him come running from the stables.
"Thinking to break him of his evil habit of beating me, many times I
hid behind the _purda_ of a door waiting for the coming of his ugly
toes. Swisp! swisp! I'd hear the broom; 'Uh-h, uh-h!' old Potai would
grunt, because of the stooping, and presently under the _purda_, which
hung straight down, would peep his low-caste toes.
"Click! just like that I'd nip quick, and run for the Mem-Sahib,
screaming that Potai was beating me. I'm sure it was not an evil act on
my part, for if any Sahib saw it he would laugh, and give me nuts or
something sweet. That was because everyone knew that Potai was evil and
of a low caste.
"Many a time I saved the tiffin from the thieving crows----"
"Caw-w-w, what-a yar-r-r-n!" growled Kauwa the Crow. "We who are the
cleaners of cities are not thieves. What is a Cockatoo? A teller of
false tales and a breaker of rest."
"Ca-lack! even what Cockatoo has said of Kauwa is true," declared the
Adjutant, solemnly, snapping his sword in its scabbard; "I, who am
_the_ cleaner of cities, consider Kauwa but a thief. Once many of the
Seven Sisters, for that is the evil name of Kauwa's tribe, stole a
full-flavored fish from my very teeth----"
"Aw, aw, aw! let me tell it, let me tell it," cried Kauwa; "let me tell
the true tale of my solemn friend's stealing."
"Now we shall get at the real history of the Feathered Kind," chuckled
Pardus. "When the Jungle Dwellers fall out amongst themselves and make
much clatter, there is always the chance of an easy Kill."
"Caw-aw-aw! It was this way," fairly snapped Crow. "A seller of small
things, a _box wallah_, walking in an honest way fast after the _palki_
of a great Sahib, even on the Red Road of Calcutta, by chance was
struck by another _palki_ and his box of many things thrown to the
ground. Then this honest one of the straight face, Adjutant, seeing the
mishap from his perch on the lion which is over the Viceroy's gate,
swooped down like a proper Dacoit and swallowed some brown Eating which
was like squares of butter, and made haste back to his perch. Even a
Crow would have known better than that, for it was soap. And all day
many of the Men-kind stood and looked at our baldheaded friend, for a
great sickness came to him; and as he coughed, soap-bubbles floated
upward. The Hindoos said it was a work of their gods."
"Just what I thought," grunted Pardus; "all clatter, and no true story
of anything."
"Well," sighed Cockatoo wearily, "my Mem-Sahib always put me in a
little house on the veranda at night. Though I didn't like it at all,
still it was _my_ house, and one day, in the midst of a rain, when I
sought to enter, inside were two of the Cat young."
[Illustration: "AND AS HE COUGHED, SOAP BUBBLES FLOATED UPWARD."]
"Kittens?" queried Sa'-zada.
"Ee-he-ah; and just behind me the old Cat with another in her mouth.
Hard nuts! but such a row you never heard in your life. When I tried to
drag the Kittens out, the Cat dug her beak----"
"Claws, you mean," corrected Sa'-zada.
"Ee-he-ah--claws in my back; but the Mem-Sahib took them away."
"Ugh, ugh! all lies! Bird talk!" grunted Boar. "What say you,
Sa'-zada?"
"It is true," declared the Keeper, much to the disgust of his
questioner; "for in The Book are also other true tales of Cockatoo. The
Mem-Sahib has written that he was a great mischief-maker. She says that
on the back veranda of her bungalow was a filter, and when 'Cocky'
wanted a bath, he used to turn the tap, but never knew enough to shut
it off, so the filter was always running dry.
"Also, there was a guava tree in the compound, and our friend ate all
the guavas just as they ripened, so no one but Cocky got any of the
fruit. That he was always fighting with Jock, her Scotch Terrier, and
the clamor fair made her head ache."
"Whatever Sa'-zada reads from The Book is most certainly true,"
commented Magh.
"I've been thinking," began the Adjutant, solemnly----
"You look like it," growled Wolf.
"Of a story about Kauwa," continued the Adjutant----
"He stole three silver spoons from my Mem-Sahib," interrupted Cocky
hastily, suddenly remembering the incident, "and hid them in the
Dog-cart, where they were found next day; which shows that he is
neither wise nor honest."
"Mine is a true tale," declared Adjutant, with great dignity. "One
morning, looking calmly over the great city to see that all had been
tidied up, I saw my little black friend, whose voice is like unto the
squeak of a Bullock-cart, crouched in an open window, with wings well
spread ready for flight.
"'A new piece of thieving,' thought I, and, drawing closer, I saw Kauwa
hop to the floor, pass over to a bed on which slept a Sahib, and gently
take a slice of toast from the top of a cup; then away went the thief.
"But the full wickedness was later, for when the Sahib awoke he spoke
to his servant in the manner which Cockatoo has related of the ship.
And when the other, who was of the Black Kind, declared he had put the
toast beside his Master, the Sahib beat him for a liar. Even three
mornings did Kauwa take the toast; but on the fourth the Sahib, who was
pretending to sleep, nearly broke his back with the cast of a boot."
"Jungle Dwellers are Jungle Dwellers, and City Dwellers are City
Dwellers," commenced Hornbill, gravely, "and I'm so glad I'm a Jungle
Dweller. These tales show what city life is like. Save for an
occasional row with Magh's friends, Hanuman and the rest, whose
stomachs are out of all proportion to the quantity of fruit to be had,
I have led a very peaceful life in the Jungle."
[Illustration: "LEAVING JUST A PLACE FOR HER SHARP BEAK."]
"Tell me," queried Magh, maliciously, "do your Young roost on your
nose?"
"No; that is to keep inquisitive folks at a distance. And, talking of
Young, when my wife has laid her two big eggs in a hole in some tree, I
shut her up there with the eggs--make her stay home to mind the house
and the oncoming family. I plaster up the hole with mud, leaving just a
place for her sharp beak; this to keep the Monkeys from stealing her
and the eggs."
"Kaw-aw-aw! Talking of nests," said Kauwa, "when I was in Calcutta I
designed a nest that would last forever--yes, forever. Each year before
that time, because of the monsoon winds, my nest had always been
destroyed; but the time I speak of, having a job on hand----"
"On beak, you mean!" laughed Sa'-zada.
"Aw-haw!--to clean up about a cook-house behind a certain place of the
Sahib's in which they bottled water of a fierce strength--as I say,
being busy in this same compound, I spied many, many twigs of wire."
"What's wire?" asked Mooswa; "I've never, that I know of, eaten such
twigs."
Sa'-zada explained, "Kauwa means bottled soda water, I fancy, and the
wire from the corks."
"A thought came to me," continued Kauwa, "to build my nest of these
bright little things, and I did, first getting my mate's opinion on the
matter, of course. Dead Pigs! but it _was_ a nest! We would swing, and
jump, and hang to it by our beaks, and never a break in the wall. But I
had forgotten all about the selfish desire of the Men--but that was
after. The first trouble was when Cuckoo--a proper _budmash_ bird she
is--came and laid two eggs in the nest. I saw the difference in the
eggs at once, but my mate declared that they were all her own laying.
She took rather a pride in her ability to lay eggs--to tell you the
truth, we quarreled over it."
"I believe that," yawned Adjutant.
"However, she had her way, and started to hatch out these foreign
devils; but the Men, as I have said, seeing my beautiful nest, sent a
Man of low caste up the tree, and he took it away, Cuckoo eggs and all.
It was a good joke on the Cuckoo Bird, and I was so mad at the way
everything turned out, Caw-ha! I never made it again."
"I can swallow a plantain at one gulp," said Hornbill proudly.
"Why do you toss it up first?" asked Sa'-zada, alluding to the peculiar
habit the Hornbill has of throwing everything into the air, and
catching it as he swallows it.
"It's all in the way of slow eating," answered Hornbill.
"Now," said Myna, "it is surely my turn. I, Myna, who was the pride of
the Calcutta Zoo in the matter of speech, have sat here like a Tucktoo
not saying a word, and listening to such as Cockatoo boasting about the
few paltry oaths he picked up from the Sailor-kind. Why, damn your
eyes, sir----"
And before Sa'-zada could still the tumult, Cockatoo and Myna, the best
talking Bird of all India, were hurling the most unparliamentary
language at each other that had ever been bandied about a Bird
gathering.
When Sa'-zada had stopped the indelicate scolding of the two Birds Myna
proceeded to tell of his life.
"I was born in the Burma hills, amongst the Shans. That's where I got
my beautiful blue-black coat and lovely yellow beak."
"Modest Bird," sneered Magh.
"It was Mah Thin who snared me; but she was good to me, though--rice
and fruit, all I could eat; and she never once forgot to put the
turmeric and ground chillies in my rice; for, you know, if I did not
get something hot in my food I'd soon die. I was somewhat like Cockatoo
in that a Ship-man bought me and took me to Calcutta. He made me a most
wise bird, and taught me many clever sayings. And when he was in
Calcutta with his ship I would be put in the Zoo, so that the Sahibs
from all parts might hear my speech.
"One day Tom--that was my master's name; he taught me to call him
Tom--said to me, 'To-morrow the _Lat_ Sahib, the Sirdar, and many
ladies are coming to hear you talk; Myna.' Then he made me repeat over
and over again, 'Good-morning, your Excellency.'"
"It was a hard word he gave you," commented Magh.
"It was indeed. Let claw-nosed Cockatoo try it; he thinks he can
talk--let him try that."
"Avast there, you lubber----" commenced Cocky, but Sa'-zada stopped
him.
"Well, I said it over and over, and over again, and Tom was so pleased
he gave me a graft mango to eat. Next day the Viceroy and many
Mem-Sahibs and Sahibs gathered about my cage, and the Viceroy said,
'Good-morning, Polly.' Now this made me mad--to be called Polly, as
though I had a hooked nose like Cockatoo; and in my anger I got
excited, and, for-the-love-of-hot-spiced-rice, I couldn't think of what
Tom had told me to say.
"'Speak up!' said Tom.