who were excavating for a new railroad line that passed within a
quarter of a mile of the schoolhouse. There were fifty-five of
these Italians, and they had their camp in a grove of pines within
plain sight of us. My pupils were afraid of these swarthy men, for
they jabbered fiercely in an unknown tongue, and each one was armed
with a sheath-knife.
On the whole, I thought it better that my boys should not go to
their camp. But Blackamoor went there, and indeed became a constant
visitor. There were probably titbits to be secured about their
cooking-fires. For a time he nearly deserted the schoolhouse for
the Italian camp in the pines, or at least was flying back and
forth a great deal, "hawing" and "harring."
All appeared to go well for a while. Then one forenoon I heard loud
shouts outside, and on going to the door, saw a hatless Italian
pursuing Blackamoor across the pasture below the house. He was a
very active young man, and was filling the air with stones and
cries.
Blackamoor, however, was taking it all easily, flying low, but
keeping out of reach. He had something in his beak.
Catching sight of me in the doorway, the Italian stopped, but
gesticulated eagerly, pointing to the crow; and he said much that I
failed utterly to comprehend.
I conjectured that Blackamoor had purloined something, and felt
that I must keep him from going to the camp; but that was not
easily accomplished. We tied him by the leg, but he tugged at the
string till it was frayed off or came untied, and flew away.
But a crisis was at hand. The second morning afterward an alarming
commotion began, as I was hearing a class in mental arithmetic. The
house was surrounded by excited Italians. Stones rattled on the
roof. Angry shouts filled the air. It was a mob. The children were
terrified, and I was sufficiently alarmed myself, for a pane of
glass crashed and clubs banged against the sides of the house.
Hastily locking the door, I peered out of the window. Certainly
wild Indians could hardly have looked more savage than did those
Italians, hurling stones and clubs at the house.
Yet through it all I had a suspicion that the demonstration was
directed at Blackamoor rather than against us; for I fancied that I
had heard our bird say _"Haw!"_ a moment before the hubbub
burst forth. Still it was decidedly alarming while it lasted, and
continued for a much longer time than was pleasant. I judged it
more prudent to keep the door locked than to go forth to
remonstrate.
Finally, after a great bombardment, the outcries and racket
subsided, and with a vast sense of relief, I saw the Italians
retiring across the pasture to their camp. As a matter of course
the children carried home terrible accounts of what had occurred,
and our small community waxed indignant over what was deemed an
outrage by lawless foreigners.
The suspicion, however, remained with me that Blackamoor was at the
bottom of all the trouble. I had the boys catch him and make him
fast again, this time with a small dog-chain, which he could not
bite off. He cawed vigorously, but we kept him at anchor for a week
or more. And meanwhile the Italian camp was moved to a point six
miles farther along the line of the new railway.
At a schoolhouse in the country it is often difficult to get small
repairs made. Early that season the boys had broken a pane of glass
in the low attic window at the front end of the house. I had been
trying to get it replaced for two months; and now we had two panes
broken. At last I bought new glass and a bit of putty and with the
aid of Wiggan and another boy, set the panes myself one night after
school.
But while setting the attic pane we made a singular discovery. In
the low, dark loft, just inside the hole of the broken pane, lay a
heap of queer things which caused us first to stare, then to laugh.
The like, I am sure, was never found in the loft of a New England
sehoolhouse before. I made a list. There were:
The much soiled photograph of an Italian baby.
Three photographs of pretty Italian girls.
Four very villainous old pipes.
Many straws of macaroni.
An old felt hat.
A dirty stick of candy.
Five small silver coins.
An harmonica.
An odd sort of flute.
The bonnet of an Italian baby.
Four soiled red bandannas.
A black wallet containing about a dollar in silver.
Two tin cups.
Two pictures of peasants.
Two plugs of tobacco.
These are but samples. All told, there were at; least ninety
articles. It was Blackamoor's hoard; and all the while we were
overhauling it he cawed and hawed in great glee!
That night we talked it over, and decided that restoration was our
only proper course. The long-suffering Italians were now six miles
away; but on Saturday we procured a pair of farm horses and a wagon
with three seats for our journey of reparation. The purloined
articles were put in a large basket, and we set up a perch in the
wagon, to which Blackamoor was chained in token of punishment.
After this manner six of us drove to the new camp.
When we arrived the gang was hard at work in a cutting; but when,
one after another, they caught sight of our wagon, with Blackamoor
atop, exclamations, not of a complimentary nature, burst forth all
along the line.
But I beckoned to their Irish "boss," and after showing him our
basket and explaining the circumstances, asked him to allow each
of the men to take what belonged to him.
"Ah, sure!" replied the foreman, with a broad grin. "Here, all of
you," he shouted down the cutting, "come get your trinkets what the
crow stole!"
Wonderingly, the gang gathered round the wagon. But when they saw
the basket and what was in it, the liveliest expressions of
satisfaction arose. Each seized his own.
I had the foreman say to them how very sorry we were that our bad
bird had given them so much trouble. Then followed, in response, as
pretty a bit of politeness as I have ever witnessed.
The Italians took off their hats and bowed all round. One of them
then made a little speech, which the Irish boss translated after
his own fashion, somewhat like this:
"It's all right, they say. You are most good. They thank you with
all their hearts. They are sorry you have had to come so far. You
are a very, very kind signorina."
The foreman grinned apologetically. "They want to sing you a song,"
he said.
I said that we should be delighted. Immediately four of them
stepped forth together and sang. It was an Italian song, and had a
refrain so plaintive that I often catch myself trying to hum it.
"Now, then, get back to your work, men!" shouted the boss, and so
this odd little episode ended.
Yet it was not wholly ended, either, for in October, as the gang
tramped back along the road-bed of the railway, going home with all
their packs and bundles, one of those who had sung came up to the
schoolhouse and laid a little bouquet of frost flowers and red
autumn leaves on the doorstep.
Catching sight of me through the window, he nodded brightly,
pointed to the bouquet, nodded again, then hurried on after his
fellows. I went to the door, and when they saw me there, half a
hundred old hats were raised and hands were waved in token of
farewell.
I thought of our previous fears and of the hard things that had
been said, and was ashamed. Again the truth of that humane old
proverb came home to me:
"Almost everybody is a good fellow if you treat him right."
And Blackamoor?
A few days later Blackamoor deserted us. A large flock of his wild
kindred was mustering in the vicinity for the autumn migration. We
concluded that he had joined his tribe--and were not inconsolable.
A PARROT THAT HAD BEEN TRAINED TO FIRE A CANNON
By Sir Samuel W. Baker
There are no people who surpass the natives of India in the
training of elephants or other wild animals. For many ages the
custom has prevailed among the native princes of that country of
educating not only the elephant and the dog, but the leopard and
the falcon to assist them in the chase.
The Gaekwar of Baroda, during my sojourn in his State, most kindly
furnished me with opportunities of witnessing the excellent
training of his falcons, hunting leopards, or cheetahs, and other
animals.
We were also allowed to inspect the immense collection of jewels
belonging to the Gaekwar. These were in such numbers and variety
that I quite lost my respect for diamonds and rubies, although one
of the former had actually been purchased for $450,000.
The gold and silver batteries of field-guns were also exhibited.
There are only four of these cannon, two of which are solid gold
four-pounders, fitted with an internal tube of steel. The carriages
are plated with gold, and the harness for the team of oxen is
heavily ornamented with the same precious metal. Gold horns are
fitted upon those of the oxen employed, and these animals are
selected for their immense size and general perfection of
appearance.
The silver guns, carriages, limbers, harness, etc., were precisely
similar.
The most interesting artilleryman in his Highness's service was a
small green parrot. This bird was one of many which had been
trained to the various exercises of a field-gun, and it was
exhibited by its native tutor in our presence.
A large table was placed in the arena where rhinoceros, buff aloes,
and rams had been recently struggling for victory in their various
duels, and a far more entertaining exhibition was exchanged for the
savage conflicts.... Upon this table stood a model brass cannon
about eight inches in length of barrel, and a calibre equal to a
No. 12 smooth-bore gun. The rammer and sponger lay by the side of
the small field-piece.
About a dozen green parrots were spectators, who were allowed to
remain on perches, while the best-trained gunner was to perform in
public before at least three thousand spectators, the Gaekwar, and
his ministers, and friends, including ourselves, being seated in a
raised structure similar to the grand stand of an English
racecourse, which commanded the entire arena, the parrots being
immediately beneath.
The gunner was placed upon the table, and at once took its stand by
the gun, and, in an attitude of attention, waited for orders from
its native master.
The word of command was given, and the parrot instantly seized the
sponger in its beak, and inserting it within the muzzle without the
slightest difficulty, vigorously moved it backwards and forwards,
and then replaced it in its former position.
The order was now given "to load." A cartridge was lying on the
table, which the bird immediately took within its beak, and
dexterously inserted in the muzzle; it then seized the rammer, and,
with great determination of purpose and force, rammed the cartridge
completely home, giving it several sharp taps when at the breech.
The parrot replaced the rammer by the side of the sponger, and
waited for further orders, standing erect close to the rear of the
gun.
The trainer poured a pinch of priming powder upon the touch-hole,
and lighted a small port-fire; this he gave to the parrot, which
received it in its beak at a right angle, and then stood by its
gun, waiting for the word.
"Fire!" ... At that instant the parrot applied the match, and the
report of the cannon was so loud that most people started at the
sound; but the pretty green gunner never flinched--the parrot stood
by its gun quite unmoved. The trainer took the port-fire, which it
had never dropped from its beak, and gave an order to sponge the
gun, which was immediately executed, the bird appearing to be quite
delighted at its success.
THE SANDPIPER'S TRICK
By Celia Thaxter
One lovely afternoon in May I had been wandering up and down,
through rocky gorges, by little swampy bits of ground, and on the
tops of windy headlands, looking for flowers, and had found many:
--large blue violets, the like of which you never saw; white
violets, too, creamy and fragrant; gentle little houstonias; gay
and dancing erythroniums, and wind-flowers delicately tinted, blue,
straw-color, pink, and purple. I never found such in the mainland
valleys; the salt air of the sea deepens the colors of all flowers.
I stopped by a swamp which the recent rains had filled and turned
to a little lake. Light green iris-leaves cut the water like sharp
and slender swords, and, in the low sunshine that streamed across,
threw long shadows over the shining surface.
Some blackbirds were calling sweetly in a clump of bushes, and
song-sparrows sang as if they had but one hour in which to crowd
the whole raptures of the spring. As I pressed through the budding
bayberry bushes to reach some milk-white sprays of shadbush which
grew by the water-side, I startled three curfews. They flew away,
trailing their long legs, and whistling fine and clear. I stood
still to watch them out of sight. How full the air was of pleasant
sounds! The very waves made a glad noise about the rocks, and the
whole sea seemed to roar afar off, as if half asleep and murmuring
in a kind of gentle dream. The flock of sheep was scattered here
and there, all washed as white as snow by the plenteous rains, and
nibbling the new grass eagerly; and from near and far came the
tender and plaintive cries of the young lambs.
Going on again, I came to the edge of a little beach, and presently
I was startled by a sound of such terror and distress that it went
to my heart at once.
In a moment a poor little sandpiper emerged from the bushes,
dragging itself along in such a way that, had you seen it, you
would have concluded that every bone in its body had been broken.
Such a dilapidated bird! Its wings drooped and its legs hung as if
almost lifeless. It uttered continually a shrill cry of pain, and
kept just out of the reach of my hand, fluttering hither and
thither, as if sore wounded and weary. At first I was amazed, and
cried out, "Why, friend and gossip! What is the matter?" and then
stood watching it in mute dismay.
Suddenly it flashed across me that this was only my sandpiper's way
of concealing from me a nest; and I remembered reading about this
little trick of hers in a book of natural history. The object was
to make me follow her by pretending that she could not fly, and so
lead me away from her treasure. So I stood perfectly still, lest I
should tread on the precious habitation, and quietly observed my
deceitful little friend.
Her apparently desperate and hopeless condition grew so comical
when I reflected that it was only affectation, that I could not
help laughing, loud and long. "Dear gossip," I called to her, "pray
don't give yourself so much unnecessary trouble! You might know I
wouldn't hurt you or your nest for the world, you most absurd of
birds!"
As if she understood me, and as if she could not bear being
ridiculed, up she rose at once, strong and graceful, and flew off
with a full, round, clear note, delicious to hear.
Then I cautiously looked for the nest, and found it quite close to
my feet, near the stem of a stunted bayberry bush. Mrs. Sandpiper
had only drawn together a few bayberry leaves, brown and glossy, a
little pale green lichen, and a twig or two, and that was a pretty
enough house for her. Four eggs, about as large as robins', were
within, all laid evenly with the small ends together, as is the
tidy fashion of the Sandpiper family. No wonder I did not see them;
for they were pale green like the lichen, with brown spots the
color of the leaves and twigs, and they seemed a part of the
ground, with its confusion of soft neutral tints. I couldn't admire
them enough, but, to relieve my little friend's anxiety, I came
very soon away; and as I came, I marvelled much that so very small
a head should contain such an amount of cunning.
HOW DID THE CANARY DO IT?
By Celia Thaxter
A little friend of mine, who was going away for the winter, asked
me to take charge of one of her canaries till she returned in the
spring. The bird was a foreigner, born and bred in Fayal, and
brought across the water in his youth, a gray-green and golden
little creature, whose name was Willie.
I gladly consented, and one day Willie was brought over from
Jamaica Plains, a distance of ten miles, and deposited in my
parlor. His cage was closely covered with brown paper during the
journey, and he came in the cars, by the roundabout way of Boston.
At first he seemed somewhat lonely and lost, but soon grew very
happy and content in his new home; and well he might be, for he had
all his wants supplied, and did not lack companions.
I had two canaries, a robin, and a song-sparrow, and they soon
began to make beautiful music all together.
The sun could not rise without shining into the parlor windows; it
lingered there all day, till the last glow of the evening-red faded
out of the sky. At two windows the light streamed through green
leaves and gay flowers, and made a most cheerful atmosphere, in
which no bird could possibly help singing. The song-sparrow's
clear, friendly notes seemed to bring May to the very door;
and the robin executed, _sotto voce,_ all his fine out-of-door
melodies, and put one into an April mood with his sweet, melancholy
rain-song.
Willie could not choose but be happy. So they all sang and
chirruped together the whole winter through, and cheered us in that
cold, sad season. Slowly the earth turned daily more and more
toward the sun, and before we were ready to realize so much joy,
the "willow-wands" were spangled with "downy silver," and the alder
catkins began to unwind their long spirals, and swing pliant in the
first winds of March. Then the melting airs of April set the brooks
free, the frogs began to pipe, and there was rare music! Birds came
in flocks, the soft green grass stole gradually over the land, and
dandelions shone gay in the meadows. When beneath a southern window
the flowering almond blossomed, I kept the windows open during fine
weather, and left the bird cages on the sill the whole day. Little
wild birds came and sat on the grapevine trellis above, and
twittered and talked with the captives, and sometimes alighted on
the cages; the pink almond sprays waved round them, and all were,
or seemed to be, as happy as the day is long.
Willie's little mistress returned about this time, and I only
awaited a proper opportunity to return my charge, safe and well,
into her hands. I congratulated myself on his state of health and
spirits, and thought how glad she would be to see him again. But,
alas! for human calculations. One afternoon I went, as usual, to
take in the cage for the night: there was Dick, the robin; and
Philip, the sparrow; and slender Rupert, my own canary, and his
mate; but Willie of Fayal, the green and golden stranger, was gone,
cage and all. I looked out of the window; there lay the cage upon
the ground, empty. Imagine my consternation! Had some strange,
prowling cat devoured--? I was in despair at the thought.
"If it had been any one but Willie," I said, again and again. He
had been intrusted to my care; what should I say when he was
required of me? In real sorrow I wrote to my youthful friend and
told her all. She mourned her bird as dead, but only for a day; for
what do you think happened? The most surprising thing! You never
will guess; so I shall tell you all, at once.
Willie was not devoured; he escaped from his cage, and flew
unerringly back to his former home, ten miles from mine. The night
after he disappeared from my window, he was heard pecking at the
window of the little girl's chamber, but no one noticed him; so he
stayed about the house till morning, and flew in when the window
was opened, and was found perched on the cage of his old companion.
Great was everybody's astonishment, as you may imagine. There was
no mistaking him,--it was Willie, and no other.
Yes, really and truly. Now, how do you suppose he found his way
over all those miles of unfamiliar country, straight to that
chamber window? _What_ guided him? Did he fly high or low?
Probably not high; for his wings were unused to flying at all, and
consequently not strong; but they bore him over woods and fields,
over streets and people, over hundreds of houses, till at last his
tired eyes beheld the tower and gables of his old dwelling-place
rising from among the pleasant woods, and then he knew he might
rest in safety.
But how _could_ he find the way? Supposing birds to have means
of communicating with each other by speech, how would he have put
his questions, wishing to ask his way? Meeting a thrush, or
sparrow, or any other dainty feathered creature, he might perhaps
have hailed it with,--"Good morrow, comrade;" but he couldn't have
said, "Can you tell me the way to Jamaica Plains?" or, "Do you know
where the little girl lives to whom I belong? Her name is May, and
she has golden hair; can you tell me how to find her?" Do you think
he could? Yet he did find her, and until last summer, was still
living in that pretty chamber among the green trees.
Some time, perhaps, we shall understand those things; but until
then, Willie's journey must remain one of the mysterious incidents
in natural history.
A RUNAWAY WHALE
By Captain O.G. Fosdick
"Now, boys," said Captain Daniel, "draw your skiff up beside the
_Greyhound,_ and I'll tell you a story of how I was once run
away with by a whale."
We boys did as we were bid, drawing the skiff well up clear of the
tideway. We clambered on board the _Greyhound_ and, seating
ourselves or the transom, waited for Captain Daniel to begin.
Taking a match from his waistcoat pocket and lighting a long clay
pipe, he spoke:
Along in the fifties I was cabin-boy on the whaling-ship
_Nimrod_, Alarson Coffin, master. We were cruising on the
coast of Brazil when, one day, the lookout, stationed at the
masthead, reported a large school of sperm-whales off our lee-beam.
Captain Coffin, who had taken his spy-glass and gone aloft at the
first cry from the masthead, ordered the boats lowered. As the men
tumbled over one another to be first to reach the monsters, my
young heart danced within me, and our old black steward had to hold
me back, I was so anxious to go.
There was a gentle wind blowing, and the boats' crews, having
hoisted the sails, were fast leaving the ship.
Captain Coffin now ordered the men to get a spare boat from its
cranes over the quarter-deck and fit it with whaling implements.
There were only a few of us left on board for ship-keepers. We
quickly had the boat down from its cranes, and everything ready for
launching.
There were several other whalers off our weather beam, and as soon
as they noticed our boats in the water they squared their yards and
ran down across our stern. Captain Coffin had observed their
manoeuvres, and calling to the ship's cooper, he said, "Bangs, you
will have to take charge of the ship during my absence, for every
one of our boats is fastened to a whale, and the rest of the school
has become gallied, and I don't want those Nantucketers to get
there before our boats secure two whales apiece, at least."
Taking another look at the ships which had now crossed our wake, he
added, "Blast those Nantucketers! They can smell a sperm-whale five
miles to their leeward any time."
He had come down from the rigging, and ordered the head-sails
thrown back. The order was obeyed, and stepping to the ship's
waist, he placed his powerful shoulders against the whale-boat, and
said: "Now, boys, all shove together!"
As the ship rolled to the leeward, out through the gangway shot our
boat and landed safely in the water, and I after her; for you must
know, children, I was so anxious to see the boat launched properly
that as she struck the water I ran to the open gangway, and not
noticing the boat's warp, which the steward had taken the
precaution to fasten taut to the ship's rail, was struck by it and
thrown overboard.
They threw me a bight of rope from the ship, and I clambered back
on deck. Captain Coffin told me to go below and change my dripping
clothes, and then I could go in the boat with him and pull the
after oar. You may lay to it that I flew down those cabin stairs,
for if there was anything in the world I longed for, it was to get
a chance to see a sperm-whale killed.
As Captain Coffin stepped to the bow of the boat he ordered the
black steward to his place at the steering-oar. "Don't be afraid to
lay me right on to them, steward," said he. "Nothing but wood and
black skin will suit me to-day!"