By the sounds of rejoicing among the feathered folks of the Old Orchard
Johnny Chuck knew that it was quite safe for him to come out. He
was eager to tell Skimmer the Tree Swallow how glad he was that Mr.
Blacksnake had been driven away before he could get Skimmer's eggs. As
he poked his head out of his doorway he became aware that something was
still wrong in the Old Orchard. Into the glad chorus there broke a
note of distress and sorrow. Johnny instantly recognized the voices
of Welcome Robin and Mrs. Robin. There is not one among his feathered
neighbors who can so express worry and sorrow as can the Robins.
Johnny was just in time to see all the birds hurrying over to that part
of the Old Orchard where the Robins had built their home. The rejoicing
suddenly gave way to cries of indignation and anger, and Johnny caught
the words, “Robber! Thief! Wretch!” It appeared that there was just as
much excitement over there as there had been when Mr. Blacksnake had
been discovered trying to rob Skimmer and Mrs. Skimmer. It couldn't be
Mr. Blacksnake again, because Farmer Brown's boy had chased him in quite
another direction.
“What is it now?” asked Johnny of Skimmer, who was still excitedly
discussing with Mrs. Skimmer their recent fright.
“I don't know, but I'm going to find out,” replied Skimmer and darted
away.
Johnny Chuck waited patiently. The excitement among the birds seemed
to increase, and the chattering and angry cries grew louder. Only the
voices of Welcome and Mrs. Robin were not angry. They were mournful, as
if Welcome and Mrs. Robin were heartbroken. Presently Skimmer came back
to tell Mrs. Skimmer the news.
“The Robins have lost their eggs!” he cried excitedly. “All four have
been broken and eaten. Mrs. Robin left them to come over here to help
drive away Mr. Blacksnake, and while she was here some one ate those
eggs. Nobody knows who it could have been, because all the birds of the
Old Orchard were over here at that time. It might leave been Chatterer
the Red Squirrel, or it might have been Sammy Jay, or it might have been
Creaker the Grackle, or it might have been Blacky the Crow. Whoever it
was just took that chance to sneak over there and rob that nest when
there was no one to see him.”
Just then from over towards the Green Forest sounded a mocking “Caw,
caw, caw!” Instantly the noise in the Old Orchard ceased for a moment.
Then it broke out afresh. There wasn't a doubt now in any one's mind.
Blacky the Crow was the robber. How those tongues did go! There was
nothing too bad to say about Blacky. And such dreadful things as those
birds promised to do to Blacky the Crow if ever they should catch him in
the Old Orchard.
“Caw, caw, caw!” shouted Blacky from the distance, and his voice sounded
very much as if he thought he had done something very smart. It was
quite clear that at least he was not sorry for what he had done.
All the birds were so excited and so angry, as they gathered around
Welcome and Mrs. Robin trying to comfort them, that it was some time
before their indignation meeting broke up and they returned to their own
homes and duties. Almost at once there was another cry of distress.
Mr. and Mrs. Chebec had been robbed of their eggs! While they had been
attending the indignation meeting at the home of the Robins, a thief had
taken the chance to steal their eggs and get away.
Of course right away all the birds hurried over to sympathize with the
Chebecs and to repeat against the unknown thief all the threats they
had made against Blacky the Crow. They knew it couldn't have been Blacky
this time because they had heard Blacky cawing over on the edge of the
Green Forest. In the midst of the excited discussion as to who the thief
was, Weaver the Orchard Oriole spied a blue and white feather on the
ground just below Chebec's nest.
“It was Sammy Jay! There is no doubt about it, it was Sammy Jay!” he
cried.
At the sight of that telltale feather all the birds knew that Weaver was
right, and led by Scrapper the Kingbird they began a noisy search of the
Old Orchard for the sly robber. But Sammy wasn't to be found, and they
soon gave up the search, none daring to stay longer away from his
own home lest something should happen there. Welcome and Mrs. Robin
continued to cry mournfully, but little Mr. and Mrs. Chebec bore their
trouble almost silently.
“There is one thing about it,” said Mr. Chebec to his sorrowful little
wife, “that egg of Sally Sly's went with the rest, and we won't have to
raise that bothersome orphan.”
“That's true,” said she. “There is no use crying over what can't be
helped. It is a waste of time to sit around crying. Come on, Chebec,
let's look for a place to build another nest. Next time I won't leave
the eggs unwatched for a minute.”
Meanwhile Jenny Wren's tongue was fairly flying as she chattered to
Peter Rabbit, who had come up in the midst of the excitement and of
course had to know all about it.
“Blacky the Crow has a heart as black as his coat, and his cousin Sammy
Jay isn't much better,” declared Jenny. “They belong to a family of
robbers.”
“Wait a minute,” cried Peter. “Do you mean to say that Blacky the Crow
and Sammy Jay are cousins?”
“For goodness' sake, Peter!” exclaimed Jenny, “do you mean to say that
you don't know that? Of course they're cousins. They don't look much
alike, but they belong to the same family. I would expect almost
anything bad of any one as black as Blacky the Crow. But how such
a handsome fellow as Sammy Jay can do such dreadful things I don't
understand. He isn't as bad as Blacky, because he does do a lot of good.
He destroys a lot of caterpillars and other pests.
“There are no sharper eyes anywhere than those of Sammy Jay, and I'll
have to say this for him, that whenever he discovers any danger he
always gives us warning. He has saved the lives of a good many of us
feathered folks in this way. If it wasn't for this habit of stealing our
eggs I wouldn't have a word to say against him, but at that, he isn't
as bad as Blacky the Crow. They say Blacky does some good by destroying
white grubs and some other harmful pests, but he's a regular cannibal,
for he is just as fond of young birds as he is of eggs, and the harm he
does in this way is more than the good he does in other ways. He's bold,
black, and bad, if you ask me.”
Remembering her household duties, Jenny Wren disappeared inside her
house in her usual abrupt fashion. Peter hung around for a while but
finding no one who would take the time to talk to him he suddenly
decided to go over to the Green Forest to look for some of his friends
there. He had gone but a little way in the Green Forest when he caught a
glimpse of a blue form stealing away through the trees. He knew it in
an instant, for there is no one with such a coat but Sammy Jay. Peter
glanced up in the tree from which Sammy had flown and there he saw a
nest in a crotch halfway up. “I wonder,” thought Peter, “if Sammy was
stealing eggs there, or if that is his own nest.” Then he started
after Sammy as fast as he could go, lipperty-lipperty-lip. As he ran he
happened to look back and was just in time to see Mrs. Jay slip on
to the nest. Then Peter knew that he had discovered Sammy's home. He
chuckled as he ran.
“I've found out your secret, Sammy Jay!” cried Peter when at last he
caught up with Sammy.
“Then I hope you'll be gentleman enough to keep it,” grumbled Sammy,
looking not at all pleased.
“Certainly,” replied Peter with dignity. “I wouldn't think of telling
any one. My, what a handsome fellow you are, Sammy.”
Sammy looked pleased. He is a little bit vain, is Sammy Jay. There is no
denying that he is handsome. He is just a bit bigger than Welcome Robin.
His back is grayish-blue. His tail is a bright blue crossed with little
black bars and edged with white. His wings are blue with white and black
bars. His throat and breast are a soft grayish-white, and he wears a
collar of black. On his head he wears a pointed cap, a very convenient
cap, for at times he draws it down so that it is not pointed at all.
“Why did you steal Mrs. Chebec's eggs?” demanded Peter abruptly.
Sammy didn't look the least bit put out. “Because I like eggs,” he
replied promptly. “If people will leave their eggs unguarded they must
expect to lose them. How did you know I took those eggs?”
“Never mind, Sammy; never mind. A little bird told me,” retorted Peter
mischievously.
Sammy opened his mouth for a sharp reply, but instead he uttered a cry
of warning. “Run, Peter! Run! Here comes Reddy Fox!” he cried.
Peter dived headlong under a great pile of brush. There he was quite
safe. While he waited for Reddy Fox to go away he thought about Sammy
Jay. “It's funny,” he mused, “how so much good and so much bad can be
mixed together. Sammy Jay stole Chebec's eggs, and then he saved my
life. I just know he would have done as much for Mr. and Mrs. Chebec,
or for any other feathered neighbor. He can only steal eggs for a little
while in the spring. I guess on the whole he does more good than harm.
I'm going to think so anyway.”
Peter was quite right. Sammy Jay does do more good than harm.