The Curious Book of Birds Part 5
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When all was finished the Crow went and looked at himself in the fountain mirror; and he was much pleased.
"Well now!" he cried. "How am I for a bird? I believe no one will know me, and that is just as well; for now I am so fine that I shall myself refuse to know any one. Ho! This ought to give some ideas to that conceited Peac.o.c.k family! I am a self-made man. I am an artist who knows how to adapt his materials. I am a genius. King Solomon himself will wonder at my glory. And as for the Eagle, King of the Birds, he will grow pale with envy. King of the Birds, indeed! It is now I who should rightfully be King. No other ever wore clothes so fine as mine. By right of them I ought to be King of the Birds. I _will_ be King of the Birds!"
You see the poor old Crow was quite crazy with his one idea.
Forth he stalked into Birdland to show his gorgeous plumage and to get himself elected King of the Birds. The first persons he met were the Peac.o.c.k and his cousin,--he who was once the Crow's best friend. The Crow ruffled himself his prettiest when he saw them coming.
"Good gracious! Who is that extraordinary fowl?" drawled the Peac.o.c.k.
"He must be some great n.o.ble from a far country."
"How beautiful!" murmured his silly cousin. "How odd! How fascinating!
How distinguished! I wish the Crow had painted me like that!" The Crow heard these words and swelled with pride, casting a scornful glance at his old friend as he swept by.
Next he met a little Sparrow who was picking bugs from the gra.s.s. "Out of my way, Birdling!" cried the Crow haughtily. "I am the King."
"The King!" gasped the Sparrow, nearly choking over a fat bug, he was so surprised. "I did not know that the King wore such a robe. How gorgeous--but how queer!"
Next the Crow met Mr. Stork, standing gravely on one leg and thinking of the little baby which he was going to bring that night to the cottage by the lake. The Stork looked up in surprise as the wonderful stranger approached.
"Bless me!" he exclaimed, "whom have we here? I thought I knew all Birdland, but I never before saw such a freak as this!"
[Ill.u.s.tration: _"Bless me!" he exclaimed, "whom have we here?"_]
"I am the King. I am to be the new King," announced the Crow. "Is there any bird more gorgeous than I?"
"Truly, I hope not," said the Stork gravely. "Yet the Woodc.o.c.k is a very foolish bird. One never knows what he will do next. If he should try to be fas.h.i.+onable"--
But the Crow had pa.s.sed on without listening to the Stork's sarcasm.
As he went through Birdland he drew behind him a following of feathered citizens, chattering, screaming, t.i.ttering all together like the crowd after a circus procession. All the birds, big and little, plain and pretty, flocked to see this wonderful stranger who because of his fine clothes was coming to have himself named King. Some of them thought him truly beautiful, some thought him ridiculous; some envied him, some jeered. But they all stared; and the more they stared the more conceited became the Crow, the more sure that the kingdom was to be his.
At last they came into the presence of the Eagle himself. That royal bird was perched upon his eyrie far up on the cliff. Below him gathered the dense flock of birds, waiting to see what would happen when the Crow demanded to be made King in the Eagle's place. The Eagle had been warned of the matter by the little Humming-Bird, and was looking very majestic and scornful. But the Swallow flew round and round in great circles, twittering excitedly, and in each circle sweeping nearer and nearer to the ground. The Swallow was angry because some one had stolen his beautiful swallow-tail.
Presently the Crow swaggered forth, and c.o.c.king his impertinent eye towards the Eagle he croaked,--
"h.e.l.lo there, Old High-perch! Give me your crown and sceptre, for I am King of the Birds, not you. Look at my gorgeous clothes; look at your own dull plumage. Am I not kingly?--look at me."
The King made no reply, merely gazing sternly at the Crow. But the Swallow took up the word.
"Look at him, look at him indeed, O King!" he screamed. "There is something strange about his kingly plumage. That swallow-tail is mine, I know it!" And with a vicious tweak the Swallow pulled out the long forked feathers of which the Crow was especially proud. Oh, what a shriek of rage the mad old bird gave! At that moment the Hoopoe came up and said, "Ha! Methinks I too recognize my property. This is my crown,"
and forthwith he s.n.a.t.c.hed the plumes from the Crow's forehead, leaving it quite ugly and bare. Next the gentle Redbreast claimed his vest, and the Bluebird her azure feathers, and the Ostrich her train which she had sorely missed. Each of the birds in turn came up and with much chattering and scolding twitched away the property of which he or she had been robbed, until the Crow stood before them in his customary suit of solemn black, a bird ashamed and sore. For they had pecked him with their bills and beaten him with their wings and scratched him with their claws until even his own plain old coat was frayed and rent.
"Oh ho, oh ho! It is only old Daddy Crow, after all!" screamed the birds in chorus. And then, because the Eagle burst out laughing, they saw that it was really funny. Since the King did not mind being robbed for a time of his t.i.tle, surely they need not mourn over the few feathers which the thief had borrowed, especially since each now had his own. Chattering with glee they all flew home to their various nests, leaving the Crow alone with his shame and soreness.
Just at this moment the Peac.o.c.k and his cousin came hurrying up out of breath.
"Oh, what is it? What is the matter? What was all that noise just now?"
asked the Peac.o.c.k.
"Oh, what has become of the beautiful, n.o.ble, splendid, remarkable, graceful, gorgeous, stylish, long-tailed, kingly stranger?" questioned the Peac.o.c.k's cousin, speaking affably to the Crow, for the first time since his adoption into high society.
The Crow looked at him sideways, and all his madness went away as he saw how very, very silly this creature was.
"He was a fool in fools' feathers," he croaked. "He is no more. But before the end he bade me return these to you, saying, 'Fine feathers do not make fine birds.'" Speaking thus, he presented to the pair their two long feathers with which he had started his collection and which were the only ones now remaining to the masquerading Crow.
Then with a harsh _Caw_! he flew away to his tree. He is not a happy bird, but since that time he has never been so mad as to think that clothes are the chief thing in the world.
KING SOLOMON AND THE BIRDS
King Solomon was wiser than all men, and his fame was in all nations round about Jerusalem. He was so wise that he knew every spoken language; yes, but more than this, he could talk with everything that lived, trees and flowers, beasts and fowls, creeping things and fishes.
What a very pleasant thing that was for Solomon, to be sure! And how glad one would be nowadays to have such knowledge!
Solomon was especially fond of birds, and loved to talk with them because their voices were so sweet and they spoke such beautiful words.
One day the wise King was chatting pleasantly with the birds who lived in his wonderful garden, and these are some of the things which he heard them say. The Nightingale, the sweetest singer of all, chanted,--
"Contentment is the greatest happiness."
"It would be better for most people never to have been born," crooned the melancholy Turtle-Dove.
The happy little Swallow gave her opinion,--"Do good and you will be rewarded hereafter."
The harsh cry of the Peac.o.c.k meant, "As thou judgest so shalt thou be judged."
The Hoopoe said, "He who has no pity for others will find none for himself."
The cynical old Crow croaked disagreeably, "The further away from men I am, the better I am pleased."
Last of all the c.o.c.k who sings in the morning chanted his joyous song,--"Think of your Creator, O foolish creatures!"
When they had finished talking King Solomon softly stroked the head of the pretty little Dove and bade her cheer up, for life was not so dreadful a thing, after all. And he gave her permission to build her nest under the walls of the great Temple which he was building, the most beautiful, golden house in the whole world. Some years afterward the Doves had so increased in numbers that with their extended wings they formed a veil over the numberless pilgrims who came to Jerusalem to visit the wonderful Temple.
But of all the winged singers who spoke that day in the garden, the wise King chose to have ever near him the c.o.c.k, because he had spoken words of piety, and the nimble Hoopoe, because he was able to plunge his clear gaze into the depths of the earth as if it were made of transparent gla.s.s and discover the places where springs of living water were hidden under the soil. It was very convenient for Solomon, when he was traveling, to have some one with him who was able to find water in whatsoever place he might be resting.
Thus the c.o.c.k and the Hoopoe became Solomon's closest companions; but of the two the Hoopoe was his favorite. The Hoopoe is an Eastern bird and we do not see him in America. He is about as big as a Jay, colored a beautiful reddish gray, with feathers of purple, brown, and white, and his black wings are banded with white. But the peculiar thing about a Hoopoe is his crown of tawny feathers, a tall crown for so small a bird.
And this is the story of the Hoopoe's crown.
One day when Solomon was journeying across the desert, he was sorely distressed by the heat of the sun, until he came near to fainting. Just then he spied a flock of his friends the Hoopoes flying past, and calling to them feebly he begged them to shelter him from the burning rays.
The King of the Hoopoes gathered together his whole nation and caused them to fly in a thick cloud over the head of Solomon while he continued his journey. In grat.i.tude the wise King offered to give his feathered friends whatever reward they might ask.
For a whole day the Hoopoes talked the matter over among themselves, then their King came to Solomon and said to him,--
"We have considered your offer, O generous King, and we have decided that what we most desire is to have, each of us, a golden crown on his head."
The Curious Book of Birds Part 5
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The Curious Book of Birds Part 5 summary
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