Two big white eggs in a tumbledown nest, and snow and ice everywhere!
Did ever anybody hear of such a thing before?
“Wouldn't believe it, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes,” muttered
Blacky the Crow. “Have to believe them. If I can't believe them, it's of
no use to try to believe anything in this world. As sure as I sit here,
that old nest has two eggs in it. Whoever laid them must be crazy to
start housekeeping at this time of year. I must find out whose eggs they
are and then--”
Blacky didn't finish, but there was a hungry look in his eyes that would
have told any who saw it, had there been any to see it, that he had
a use for those eggs. But there was none to see it, and he took the
greatest care that there should be none to see him when he once again
started for a certain lonesome corner of the Green Forest.
“First I'll make sure that the eggs are still there,” thought he, and
flew high above the tree tops, so that as he passed over the tree in
which was the old nest of Red-tail the Hawk, he might look down into it.
To have seen him, you would never have guessed that he was looking for
anything in particular. He seemed to be just flying over on his way to
some distant place. If the eggs were still there, he meant to come back
and hide in the top of a near-by pine-tree to watch until he was sure
that he might safely steal those eggs, or to find out whose they were.
Blacky's heart beat fast with excitement as he drew near that old
tumble-down nest. Would those two big white eggs be there? Perhaps
there would be three! The very thought made him flap his wings a little
faster. A few more wing strokes and he would be right over the tree. How
he did hope to see those eggs! He could almost see into the nest now.
One stroke! Two strokes! Three strokes! Blacky bit his tongue to keep
from giving a sharp caw of disappointment and surprise.
There were no eggs to be seen. No, Sir, there wasn't a sign of eggs in
that old nest. There wasn't because--why, do you think? There wasn't
because Blacky looked straight down on a great mass of feathers which
quite covered them from sight, and he didn't have to look twice to know
that that great mass of feathers was really a great bird, the bird to
whom those eggs belonged.
Blacky didn't turn to come back as he had planned. He kept right on,
just as if he hadn't seen anything, and as he flew he shivered a little.
He shivered at the thought of what might have happened to him if he had
tried to steal those eggs the day before and had been caught doing it.
“I'm thankful I knew enough to leave them alone,” said he. “Funny I
never once guessed whose eggs they are. I might have known that no one
but Hooty the Horned Owl would think of nesting at this time of year.
And that was Mrs. Hooty I saw on the nest just now. My, but she's big!
She's bigger than Hooty himself! Yes, Sir, it's a lucky thing I didn't
try to get those eggs yesterday. Probably both Hooty and Mrs. Hooty were
sitting close by, only they were sitting so still that I thought they
were parts of the tree they were in. Blacky, Blacky, the sooner you
forget those eggs the better.”
Some things are best forgotten As soon as they are learned. Who never
plays with fire Will surely not get burned.