When the Sand-Hill Cranes were married, they began to work for a home of
their own. To be sure, they had chosen a place for it beforehand, yet
there were other things to think about, and some of their friends told
them it would be very foolish to build on the ground. "There are so many
accidents to ground nests," these friends said. "There are Snakes, you
know, and Rats, and a great many other people whom you would not want to
have look in on your children. Besides, something might fall on it."
The young couple talked this all over and decided to build in a tree.
"We are not afraid of Snakes and Rats," they said, "but we would fear
something falling on the nest." They were talking to quite an old Crane
when they said this.
"Do you mean to build in a tree?" said he. "My dear young friends, don't
do that. Just think, a high wind might blow the nest down and spoil
everything. Do whatever you wish, but don't build in a tree." Then he
flew away.
"Dear me!" exclaimed young Mrs. Crane, "one tells me to do this and
never to do that. Another tells me to do that and never to do this. I
shall just please myself since I cannot please my friends."
"And which place do you choose?" asked her husband, who always liked
whatever she did.
"I shall build on the ground," she said decidedly. "If the tree falls,
it may hit the nest and it may not, but if we build in the tree and it
falls, we are sure to hit the ground."
"How wise you are!" exclaimed her husband. "I believe people get in a
way of building just so, and come to think that no other way can be
right." Which shows that Mr. Sand-Hill Crane was also wise.
Both worked on the nest, bringing roots and dried grasses with which to
build it up. Sometimes they went to dance with their friends, and when
they did they bowed most of the time to each other. They did not really
care very much about going, because they were so interested in the nest.
This they had to build quite high from the ground, on account of their
long legs. "If I were a Duck," said Mrs. Sand-Hill Crane, "it would do
very well for me to sit on the nest, but with my legs? Never! I would as
soon sit on two bare branches as to have them doubled under me." So she
tried the nest until it was just as high as her legs were long.
When it was high enough, she laid in it two gray eggs with brown spots.
After that she did no more dancing, but stood with a leg on either side
of the nest, and her soft body just over the eggs to keep them warm. It
was very tiresome work, and sometimes Mr. Crane covered the eggs while
she went fishing. The Cranes are always very kind to their wives.
This, you know, was the first time that either had had a nest, and it
was all new and wonderful to them. They thought that there never had
been such a beautiful home. They often stood on the ground beside it,
and poked it this way and that with their bills, and said to each other,
"Just look at this fine root that I wove in," or, "Have you noticed how
well that tuft of dried grass looks where I put it?" As it came near the
time for their eggs to hatch, they could hardly bear to be away long
enough to find food.
One day young Mr. Sand-Hill Crane came home much excited. "Our
neighbors, the Cranes who live across the pond," said he, "had two
children hatched this morning."
"Oh, how glad I am!" cried his wife. "How glad I am! Those eggs were
laid just before ours, which must hatch very soon now."
"That is what I thought," said he. "I feel so sorry for them, though,
for I saw their children, and they are dreadfully homely,--not at all
like their parents, who are quite good-looking."
"I must see them myself," said his wife, "and if you will cover the eggs
while I go for food, I will just peep in on them. I will hurry back."
She flew steadily across the pond, which was not very wide, and asked to
see the babies. She had never seen any Crane children, you know, since
she herself was little. She thought them very ugly to look at, and
wondered how their mother could seem bright and cheerful with two such
disappointing children. She said all the polite things that she honestly
could, then got something to eat, and flew home. "They are very, very
homely," she said to her husband, "and I think it queer. All their older
children are good-looking."
She had hardly said this when she heard a faint tapping sound in the
nest. She looked, and there was the tip of a tiny beak showing through
the shell of one egg. She stood on one side of the nest, watching, and
her husband stood on the other while their oldest child slowly made his
way out. They dared not help for fear of hurting him, and besides, all
the other Cranes had told them that they must not.
"Oh, look!" cried the young mother. "What a dear little bill!"
"Ah!" said the young father. "Did you ever see such a neck?"
"Look at those legs," cried she. "What a beautiful child he is!"
"He looks just like you," said the father, "and I am glad of it."
"Ah, no," said she. "He is exactly like you." And she began to clear
away the broken egg-shell.
Soon the other Crane baby poked her bill out, and again the young
parents stood around and admired their child. They could not decide
which was the handsomer, but they were sure that both were remarkable
babies. They felt more sorry than ever for their neighbors across the
pond, who had such homely children. They took turns in covering their
own damp little Cranes, and were very, very happy.
Before this, it had been easy to get what food they wanted, for there
had been two to work for two. Now there were two to work for four, and
that made it much harder. There was no time for dancing, and both
father and mother worked steadily, yet they were happier than ever, and
neither would have gone back to the careless old days for all the food
in the pond or all the dances on the beach.
The little Cranes grew finely. They changed their down for pin-feathers,
and then these grew into fine brownish gray feathers, like those which
their parents wore. They were good children, too, and very well brought
up. They ate whatever food was given to them, and never found fault with
it. When they left the nest for the first time, they fluttered and
tumbled and had trouble in learning to walk. A Mud Turtle Father who was
near, told them that this was because their legs were too long and too
few.
"Well," said the brother, as he picked himself up and tried to stand on
one leg while he drew the other foot out of the tangled grass, "they
may be too long, but I'm sure there are enough of them. When I'm
thinking about one, I never can tell what the other will do."
Still, it was not long before they could walk and wade and even fly.
Then they met the other pond people, and learned to tell a Stickleback
from a Minnow. They did not have many playmates. The saucy little
Kingfishers sat on branches over their heads, the Wild Ducks waddled or
swam under their very bills, the Fish Hawks floated in air above them,
and the Gulls screamed hoarsely to them as they circled over the pond,
yet none of them were long-legged and stately. The things that the other
birds enjoyed most, they could not do, and sometimes they did not like
it very well. One night they were talking about the Gulls, when they
should have been asleep, and their father told them to tuck their heads
right under their wings and not let him hear another word from them.
They did tuck their heads under their wings, but they peeped out between
the feathers, and when they were sure their father and mother were
asleep, they walked softly away and planned to do something naughty.
"I'm tired of being good," said the brother. "The Gulls never are good.
They scream, and snatch, and contradict, and have lots of fun. Let's be
bad just for fun."
"All right," said his sister. "What shall we do?"
"That's the trouble," said he. "I can't think of anything naughty that I
really care for."
Each stood on one leg and thought for a while. "We might run away," said
she.
"Where would we go?" asked he.
"We might go to the meadow," said she. So they started off in the
moonlight and went to the meadow, but all the people there were asleep,
except the Tree Frog, and he scrambled out of the way as soon as he saw
them coming, because he thought they might want a late supper.
"This isn't any fun!" said the brother. "Let's go to the forest."
They went to the forest, and saw the Bats flitting in and out among the
trees, and the Bats flew close to the Cranes and scared them. The Great
Horned Owl stood on a branch near them, and stared at them with his big
round eyes, and said, "Who? Who? Waugh-ho-oo!" Then the brother and
sister stood closer together and answered, "If you please, sir, we are
the Crane children."
But the Great Horned Owl kept on staring at them and saying "Who? Who?
Waugh-ho-oo!" until they were sure he was deaf, and answered louder and
louder still.
The Screech Owls came also, and looked at them, and bent their bodies
over as if they were laughing, and nodded their heads, and shook
themselves. Then the Crane children were sure that they were being made
fun of, so they stalked away very stiffly, and when they were out of
sight of the Owls, they flew over toward the farmhouse. They were not
having any fun at all yet, and they meant to keep on trying, for what
was the good of being naughty if they didn't?
They passed Horses and Cows asleep in the fields, and saw the Brown Hog
lying in the pen with a great many little Brown Pigs and one White Pig
sleeping beside her. Nobody was awake except Collie, the Shepherd Dog,
who was sitting in the farmyard with his nose in the air, barking at the
moon.
"Go away!" he said to the Crane children, who were walking around the
yard. "Go away! I must bark at the moon, and I don't want anybody
around." They did not start quite soon enough to please him, so he
dashed at them, and ran around them and barked at them, instead of at
the moon, until they were glad enough to fly straight home to the place
where their father and mother were sleeping with their heads under their
wings.
"Are you going to tell them?" asked the brother.
"I don't know," answered the sister. When morning came, they looked
tired, and their father and mother seemed so worried about them that
they told the whole story.
"We didn't care so very much about what we did," they said, "but we
thought it would be fun to be naughty."
The father and mother looked at each other in a very knowing way. "A
great many people think that," said the mother gently. "They are
mistaken after all. It is really more fun to be good."
"Well, I wish the Gulls wouldn't scream, 'Goody-goody' at us," said the
brother.
"What difference does that make?" asked his father. "Why should a Crane
care what a Gull says?"
"Why, I--I don't know," stammered the brother. "I guess it doesn't make
any difference after all."
The next day when the Crane children were standing in the edge of the
pond, a pair of young Gulls flew down near them and screamed out,
"Goody-goody!"
Then the Crane brother and sister lifted their heads and necks and
opened their long bills, and trumpeted back, "Baddy-baddy!"
"There!" they said to each other. "Now we are even."