Of all the things he saw on his journey Robinson was most delighted
with the birds. They were of the most beautiful colors. The forest
was full of them. They gleamed like jewels in the deep masses of foliage.
In the morning their singing filled the air with sound.
Robinson had never taken much notice of the birds at home. But now
every living thing attracted him. He loved to see them happy. He would
watch often by the hour and learn the habits of nesting and getting
food of nearly every bird on the island.
Robinson did not know the names of many of the birds he saw on the
island. He had to make names for them. The strangest thing he saw on
his journey was the nest of what he called the yellow-tail. This bird
lives in colonies and makes its nest at the ends of the long leaves
of the mountain palm. When he first saw these queer looking sacks hanging
from the leaves he was amazed. He had never seen so strange a sight.
From the end of each great leaf hung a long, closely woven nest.
Robinson could not make out at first what they were. Soon, however,
he saw the birds come out of the mouths of the nests. Here, one hundred
feet from the ground, they hung their nests. But they were perfectly
safe.
He had not gone far from the tree in which the yellow tails had their
nests when he was suddenly startled by a voice crying, "Who, who are
you?" Robinson was greatly frightened and hid beneath the drooping
branches of a cedar tree. He feared every moment that the owner of
the voice would make his appearance. But it kept at a distance. Every
few minutes from the depths of the forest would come the doleful cry,
"Who, who are you?" Robinson did not dare to stir from his hiding
place. He remained there over night. After the night came on he heard
the strange voice no more.
The next day he renewed his journey. He saw many birds that were
wholly strange to him. There was a kind of wild pigeon that built its
home in a hole in the rock. It was a most beautiful bird with long,
slender, graceful feathers in its tail. He saw the frigate bird
soaring high above the island. The number and beauty of the
humming-birds amazed Robinson. They were of all colors. One had a bill
in the shape of a sickle. The most brilliant of them all was the
ruby-crested hummingbird.
Near noon, while Robinson was shielding himself from the scorching
heat of the sun in a deep, shaded glen, he was startled again by the
strange voice crying, "Who, who, who are you?" He lay quite still,
determined if possible to allow the voice to come, if it would, within
sight. He heard it slowly coming up the glen. Each time it repeated
the cry it sounded nearer. At last he saw spying at him through the
boughs of the tree under which he was lying a large bird with soft,
silky feathers of green and chestnut. "Who, who, who are you?" said
the bird. Robinson could not help but laugh. He had been frightened
at the cry of a bird.
But the bird that interested Robinson most was the parrot. There were
several kinds of them. They flew among the trees with great noise and
clatter and shrieking. Robinson determined if possible to secure one
for a pet. "I can teach it to talk," he said, "and I will have
something to talk to."' As soon as he returned home he set about
catching one. He noticed that a number were in the habit of visiting
an old tree near the shelter every morning. He planned to snare one
and tried several mornings, but he could not get one into the snare.
He tried to hit one with his bow and arrow. He at last succeeded in
hitting one and stunning it so that it fell to the ground. He ran
rapidly to pick it up, but before he could get to where it lay in the
bushes it had disappeared.
After thinking the matter over he concluded that it would be much
better to get a pair of young birds and raise them. The old ones would
be hard to tame and difficult to teach. It was easy enough to find
a nest in a hollow tree. He secured from the nest two birds just ready
to fly. He made a cage for them out of willow rods. He placed the cage
at the entrance of his cave and studied how he would feed them. Much
to his surprise the parent birds discovered their young ones and
brought them food and fed them through the open work of the cage.
When the birds were grown they rapidly learned to talk. Robinson took
great delight in teaching them. He taught them to call his name and
when he came near they would call out, "Poor old Robinson Crusoe!"
These birds remained for many years with Robinson. In fact, he was
never afterward without a parrot. They helped him to pass away very
pleasantly many hours that without them would have been sad.
Another bird that Robinson loved was the little house wren. This bird
was exceedingly tame and friendly. It was a very sweet and strong
singer. It loved to make its nest in or near his shelter. There it
would build and rear its young, within reach of his hands, while its
throat was always bursting with melody.
The mocking bird, too, always nested near and awakened him in the
morning with its wonderful song.
Robinson became a great friend and favorite of the bird inhabitants
of the island. They seemed to know him and showed no fear when near
him. This pleased him very much.