I
The Black-Headed Crow sat in a birch tree, pecking at a twig. Peck!
Peck! She cleaned her bill, looked around, and suddenly cawed, "Caw!
Caw!"
The drowsy cat, Vaska, sitting on a fence, almost fell off with fright
at the noise and growled:
"What is the matter with you, Blackhead? The Lord has given you some
voice! What are you happy about?"
The Crow answered, "Leave me alone. Don't you see I'm busy? Caw! Caw!
Caw! So much to do, so much to do."
"You poor thing," laughed Vaska.
"Keep still, you lazy thing. Your sides must be all worn out with lying
about, forever baking in the sun; while I know no rest from early
morning. Look at me. Just see what I've done today. I perched on ten
roofs, flew over half the town, peeped into every corner and hole there
is, and now I must fly up the church steeple, visit the market, and dig
a little in the garden. But I'm really wasting time talking to you.
Too busy! Too busy! Caw! Caw! Caw!"
The Crow pecked her beak for the last time against the twig, shook her
feathers out and was just ready to fly off when she heard a terrible
noise. A flock of sparrows was noisily chasing a tiny little yellow
bird.
"Catch her! Catch her!" squawked the sparrows.
"What's happened? Whither away?" cawed the Crow, following the
sparrows.
The Crow flapped her wings ten times and caught up with the sparrows.
The tiny yellow bird, completely exhausted, dropped into the little
garden overgrown with bushes of lilacs, currants and syringa, to hide
from the pursuing sparrows. The little yellow bird hid under a bush and
there was the Crow.
"Who are you?" cawed the Crow.
The sparrows scattered over that bush like a handful of peas. They were
furious with the little yellow bird and wanted to peck her to death.
"What do you want with her?" asked the Crow.
"Why is she yellow?" peeped the sparrows in chorus.
The Crow looked at the little yellow bird. She certainly was all
yellow. He jerked his head and said:
"Oh, you mischiefs! Why, it isn't a bird at all! There never was a bird
like this! However, all you clear out. I must speak with this curiosity
that pretends to be a bird."
The sparrows piped, chatted, and were very angry, but they had to clear
out. Conversations with a Crow are always very brief. He can peck you
to death, you know.
After chasing the sparrows, the Crow questioned the little yellow bird
that was breathing heavily and looking pitifully at him with her little
black eyes.
"Who are you?" asked the Crow.
"I am a canary."
"No fooling now, or you will get the worst of it. Remember, if it had
not been for me, the sparrows would have pecked you to death."
"But I am a canary."
"Where do you come from?" asked the Crow.
"I lived in a cage. I was born in a cage. I grew up in a cage. But I
always wanted to fly about like other birds. The cage hung near the
window and I always watched other birds. They looked so happy and my
cage seemed so small. Well, one day when the little girl, Verotchka,
brought my cup of water, she left the door open and I flew out. I flew
about the room first and then I flew out through the open window."
[Illustration]
"What were you doing in a cage?" said the Crow.
"I am a singer, you know."
"Just sing for me, then," said the Crow.
The Canary sang. The Crow, with his head tilted to one side, listened
and wondered.
"You call this singing?" he exclaimed. "Ha! Ha! Ha! How foolish were
your masters to feed you for such singing. If they fed anyone, why
should it not have been a real bird like me? Just a while ago I cawed
and that rascal Vaska almost fell off the fence. That's what I call
singing."
"I know Vaska, a most awful beast! Many a time he softly crept to my
cage, his green eyes burning, his claws out."
"To some, he seems fierce, but not to others. That he is sly, is true,
but there is nothing fierce about him. However, we can talk about this
later, for somehow I cannot yet believe that you are a real bird."
"But, Aunty, I am a bird. I am a real bird. All canaries are birds, you
know."
"Very well. We shall see. How do you expect to make a living?"
"I don't need very much, really. A few seeds, a bit of sugar and a bit
of toast. That is all."
"What a lady you are! A bit of sugar indeed! You can do without sugar.
As for seeds, those might be found. On the whole, I like you. Do you
want to live with me? I have a splendid nest in the birch tree."
"Thank you. But how about the sparrows?"
"If you live with me, no one will dare to touch you. Not only the
sparrows, but even sly Vaska knows my character well. I don't like
fooling."
The Canary at once took courage and flew off with the Crow. Yes, the
nest was fine. If there were only some toast and a wee bit of sugar!