Published September, 1893, in "Our Animal Friends," the organ of the
American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
A long time ago, when there was no winter in the north, the Chickadees
lived merrily in the woods with their relatives, and cared for nothing
but to get all the pleasure possible out of their daily life in the
thickets. But at length Mother Carey sent them all a warning that they
must move to the south, for hard frost and snow were coming on their
domains, with starvation close behind. The Nuthatches and other cousins
of the Chickadees took this warning seriously, and set about learning
how and when to go; but Tomtit, who led his brothers, only laughed and
turned a dozen wheels around a twig that served him for a trapeze.
"Go to the south?" said he. "Not I; I am too well contented here; and as
for frost and snow, I never saw any and have no faith in them."
But the Nuthatches and Kinglets were in such a state of bustle that at
length the Chickadees did catch a little of the excitement, and left off
play for a while to question their friends; and they were not pleased
with what they learned, for it seemed that all of them were to make a
journey that would last many days, and the little Kinglets were actually
going as far as the Gulf of Mexico. Besides, they were to fly by night
in order to avoid their enemies the Hawks, and the weather at this
season was sure to be stormy. So the Chickadees said it was all
nonsense, and went off in a band, singing and chasing one another
through the woods.
But their cousins were in earnest. They bustled about making their
preparations, and learned beforehand what it was necessary for them to
know about the way. The great wide river running southward, the moon at
height, and the trumpeting of the Geese were to be their guides, and
they were to sing as they flew in the darkness, to keep from being
scattered. The noisy, rollicking Chickadees were noisier than ever as
the preparations went on, and made sport of their relatives, who were
now gathered in great numbers, in the woods along the river; and at
length, when the proper time of the moon came, the cousins arose in a
body and flew away in the gloom. The Chickadees said that the cousins
all were crazy, made some good jokes about the Gulf of Mexico, and then
dashed away in a game of tag through the woods, which, by the by, seemed
rather deserted now, while the weather, too, was certainly turning
remarkably cool.
At length the frost and snow really did come, and the Chickadees were
in a woeful case. Indeed, they were frightened out of their wits, and
dashed hither and thither, seeking in vain for someone to set them
aright on the way to the south. They flew wildly about the woods, till
they were truly crazy. I suppose there was not a Squirrel-hole or a
hollow log in the neighbourhood that some Chickadee did not enter to
inquire if this was the Gulf of Mexico. But no one could tell anything
about it, no one was going that way, and the great river was hidden
under ice and snow.
About this time a messenger from Mother Carey was passing with a message
to the Caribou in the far north; but all he could tell the Chickadees
was that _he_ could not be their guide, as he had no instructions, and,
at any rate, he was going the other way. Besides, he told them they had
had the same notice as their cousins whom they had called "crazy"; and
from what he knew of Mother Carey, they would probably have to brave
it out here all through the snow, not only now, but in all following
winters; so they might as well make the best of it.
This was sad news for the Tomtits; but they were brave little fellows,
and seeing they could not help themselves, they set about making the
best of it. Before a week had gone by they were in their usual good
spirits again, scrambling about the twigs or chasing one another as
before. They had still the assurance that winter would end. So filled
were they with this idea that even at its commencement, when a fresh
blizzard came on, they would gleefully remark to one another that it was
a "sign of spring," and one or another of the band would lift his voice
in the sweet little chant that we all know so well:
{Illustration: Spring Soon}
Another would take it up and re-echo:
{Illustration: Spring coming}
and they would answer and repeat the song until the dreary woods rang
again with the good news, and people learned to love the brave little
Bird that sets his face so cheerfully to meet so hard a case. But to
this day, when the chill wind blows through the deserted woods, the
Chickadees seem to lose their wits for a few days, and dart into all
sorts of odd and dangerous places. They may then be found in great
cities, or open prairies, cellars, chimneys, and hollow logs; and the
next time you find one of the wanderers in any such place, be sure to
remember that Tomtit goes crazy once a year, and probably went into his
strange retreat in search of the Gulf of Mexico.