DICKEY'S COUSINS
Another of my airy creatures breathes such sweet music out of her
little instrumental throat that it might make mankind to think that
miracles are not ceased. We might well be lifted up above the earth
and say, Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven,
when thou affordest bad men such music on earth?--_Izaak Walton._
The fine pasture adjoining was a popular resort for some handsome birds
that often visited it as a playground. They were said to be relatives
of ours, but I do not think they were closer than seventh or eighth
cousins, which is so distant that it doesn't count--especially if one
doesn't want it to.
All I know is that their family name was the same as ours, _Icteridae_,
and means something or other, I forget what. It was a good honorable
name, however, and our branch was as proud of our ancestry as any
Daughter of the American Revolution could possibly be.
There were some tall weeds growing along the margin of a little stream
in the pasture which produced quantities of delicious seeds, and to
these we often repaired when we wanted a choice breakfast, as well as
to watch the playful pastimes of these queer bipeds.
What would you think of a bird taking a bareback ride on a cow? They
were extremely fond of settling themselves on the cattle which browsed
in the field and presented a truly comical picture as they complacently
gathered in little groups on the backs of those huge animals. Moving
slowly along munching the dewy grass, first on one side, then on the
other, the cows did not seem particularly to mind their saucy bareback
riders. Occasionally they would toss their heads backward, when up all
the birds would fly into the air only to descend again as soon as the
cattle were quiet.
As I said, they were very handsome. At a short distance they looked to
be clothed in black, but the breast and neck were really a very rich
brown, with the rest of the body like jet and as lustrous as satin.
They were not general favorites with the other birds on account of some
dishonorable tricks which they did on the sly. For instance, they
never troubled themselves to make nests, but watched their chance to
sneak in and lay their eggs, only one in a place, in the nests of other
birds. For some reason their eggs always hatch a little sooner than
the eggs rightfully belonging there, consequently the foster-parents,
not knowing of the deception, are quite delighted with the first little
one that comes out of the shell, and immediately fly off to get food
for it. This is very unfortunate, for during their absence their own
eggs get cold and will not hatch. After a time the old birds grow
disgusted and tumble the poor eggs all out of the nest and bestow their
whole attention to the juvenile cowbird, entirely ignorant of the fact
that they are the victims of a "put-up job."
Once when we were dining in the pasture we found out the cause of the
booming noise we had often heard sounding through the woods. Two men,
each carrying in his hand a long club, shaped large at one end,
appeared in the meadow and began looking among the long grasses which
sheltered the nests of some meadow larks. A number of the larks were
on the wing, others sat on the rail fence rolling out cadenzas in
concert in a gush of melody from their downy throats. The men moved
cautiously nearer under cover of the weeds. Raising their long clubs
to their shoulders they gazed along their narrow points a moment.
Without exactly knowing why, we took alarm, and larks, bobolinks, and
cowbirds sped upward like the wind. At the same instant something
bright shimmered in the sunlight, and with it a horrid burst of noise
and a puff of smoke. We did not all get away, for some of the
beautiful larks fell to the ground pierced by the sportsman's deadly
hail.
Again and again, all through that long, sad day we heard the ominous
booming crash, and knew the savage work of killing was going on.
Among our acquaintances was a lame redbird who at one time had been
trapped and made a prisoner, confined behind the bars of a wire cell
for many weeks and months. Luckily he made his escape one day when his
grated door was accidentally opened, and he speedily made his way back
to his dearly loved forest.
During the period of his imprisonment in the city he had picked up a
great deal of information regarding the bird trade, and some of the
facts recited by him of the terrible cruelties perpetrated and the
carnage which had been going on for years, almost caused our feathers
to stand upright in horror as we listened.