"Does it always sway about like this?" asked Elsie.
"Whenever it blows," answered the rook calmly. "Where there's a wind
there's a sway. But come along and see the nests."
"How can I get there?" demanded Elsie.
"Why, jump, of course! It's quite easy."
"But I might fall," objected Elsie.
"Are you proud?" asked the rook.
Elsie shook her head.
"I don't see what that's got to do with it," she remarked.
"Well, you can't fall if you aren't proud. Pride goes before a fall,
you know. Now, don't be nervous. Jump when I say three; and we'll
catch you if you slip."
He counted out: "One, two, three," and, as he said the last word,
Elsie let go the twig and jumped for the nearest nest. It was a
close shave, but she just caught hold of the edge as she was falling,
and managed to draw herself up.
"Well done!" called out the rook. "You ought to have been a
grasshopper."
"I think you're very rude," said Elsie.
"All our family are," replied the rook, fluttering into the nest.
"We think it's clever. But come inside and see the children."
"What's that for?" asked Elsie, pointing up above the nest.
She had suddenly caught sight of a kind of round, wickerwork cover,
which was fastened to the nest by a hinge, and could apparently be
shut down like the lid of a box.
"That?" said the rook. "Oh, that's the roof. We have to have a roof
because of the hawk. Otherwise he would eat up the children."
"How horrid of him!" cried Elsie.
There were four little rooks in the nest, and when they saw Elsie
they all began to laugh in the rudest possible way.
"What is it?" asked one of them.
"Where did you pick it up, father?" inquired a second.
"She's moulting!" exclaimed a third.
"Smart, aren't they?" said the rook admiringly, turning to Elsie.
"One can see they're your children," retorted Elsie, "because they've
got such bad manners; and now, if you don't mind, I think I ought to
be getting back. It must be nearly tea-time."
"Getting back where?" asked the rook.
"Why, home, of course," answered Elsie.
The rook shook his head.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," he said, "but I'm afraid you won't be
able to go home for another week at least."
"What do you mean?" cried Elsie.
"It may be mean," said the rook, "but I can't help it. Your brother
is going to shoot at us next week, and if we've got you up here he
won't be able to--see?"
"Oh!" cried Elsie. "Then that was why you invited me up?"
"Of course it was," replied the rook. "You don't suppose it was for
the pleasure of your society, do you?"
You can imagine Elsie's feelings when she realized how she had been
trapped. She knew she would never have the courage to try to fly
down by herself; and as for climbing--well, the very thought made her
giddy! In despair she stood up, and looked over the side of the
nest. Far, far down below she saw her brother coming out into the
garden with his gun on his shoulder. If only she could make him hear!
"Jack!" she cried. "Jack!"
She watched her voice going down, down, down; but it only got about
half the distance, and then faded away.
"Try again," said the rook, with a chuckle.
But Elsie saw that it was no good; so she just sat down on the side
of the nest and began to cry.
"Whatever shall I do?" she said helplessly.
"You'll have to grin and bear it," said the rook.
"It's no good blubbering," added one of the young ones.
"Coward!" said a third scornfully.