HOW THE BIRDS CAME
An Indian Legend
“Many years ago,” says the old Indian Grandmother, “the Great Spirit visited the earth. As he walked over valley and hill he said, ‘It is all beautiful and good. But the Great Spirit loves the trees best. See how they make the hills and valleys radiant with their green. Earth would be fairer still,’ said the Great Spirit, ‘if there were trees everywhere. I would have great forests cover the mountain sides. I would see trees as far as my eye can reach across the land. I would have a tree spring up wherever my foot touches the earth!’ And it was as the Great Spirit wished. As he wandered up and down the mountains and valleys and across the plains, little trees sprang up in his footsteps, until the whole earth, like the hills and valleys, was radiant in green. ‘The Great Spirit loves the little trees best,’ he said, when he looked upon them. ‘Little trees, I will watch over you and guard you. I will send gentle rains that you may have water to drink. I will send my warm sun to shine upon you. And you must grow and grow and grow.’ All summer long the Great Spirit cared for them, and when the first summer had passed and the winter came, the little trees had grown until they spread their branches far and wide.
“But one autumn day a great change came over the radiant green. All the leaves on the trees turned to beautiful colours—red, yellow, brown, gold. ‘They are beautiful, beautiful,’ said the Great Spirit. ‘My trees have never been so beautiful before.’
“As he spoke a gentle wind stirred the branches and the Great Spirit saw the leaves drop from the trees, flutter through the air and fall to the ground.
“‘See,’ he exclaimed, ‘the leaves of my trees fall to the earth where they will wither and die. This shall not be. Behold, my leaves, I am the Great Spirit. I will give you breath and strength. You shall not die—you shall live forever.’
“He breathed softly upon the coloured leaves. In a moment hundreds of leaves moved, then fluttered, then flew away—a flock, of beautiful birds. The red-brown oak leaves became robins; all the yellow and gold leaves became yellow birds. The red-maple leaves flew away beautiful red birds, while the withered brown leaves scattered around, sprang up sparrows and larks.”
The Indian Grandmother says that is how we got our first birds, and that is why the birds love the trees and always live among them.
HOW THE BIRDS LEARNED TO BUILD NESTS[8]
James Baldwin
There is an old story which says that the magpie was the first bird to build a nest.
One day all the birds came to her and said, “Mrs. Magpie, won’t you teach us how to make pretty nests like your own?”
“Oh, yes,” said the magpie, kindly. “I will show you just how it is done.” Then she told them to sit around her, and she would build a nest while they were looking on. She said, “You have only to notice what I do.”
She brought some mud from the side of the brook and made it into a kind of round cake. The birds sat very still, and watched her until the cake was finished. Then the thrush cried out, “Oh, I see how the nest is built! You first make a cake of mud and then pat it down in the middle.” And she flew away to try for herself; and no thrush has learned anything about nest-building since.
The magpie next took some twigs, and laid them round the cake of mud. “Say no more!” cried the blackbird. “I understand it all.” Away he flew to the green thickets by the river; and that is how blackbirds build their nests to this very day.
Then the magpie put a thin layer of mud on the twigs, and smoothed it a little with her beak. “Oh, that is all that I need to know,” said the wise owl. “Who—who—who would have thought it so simple a thing?” He flew to the top of a great oak tree, where he sat for a long time, looking at the moon and saying, “Who—who—who!”
Then the magpie took some long, slender twigs, and twined them round the outside. “That is just the thing!” cried the song sparrow, and off he went. And song sparrows still make their nests by twining twigs.
After this, the magpie took some feathers and fine moss, and lined the nest until it was a very comfortable place indeed.
“That suits me!” said the starling, and off he flew. And everybody knows that starlings have built well-lined nests ever since.
The magpie kept on working and working. But every bird, when he had learned a little about nest-building, flew away without waiting to the end of the lesson. At last no one was left but the turtledove. It had paid no attention to what the magpie was doing, and so had not learned anything at all.
It sat on a branch above the magpie’s nest, and kept saying over and over again, “Take two, two, two, two!” But it was looking far away toward the blue mountains in the west, and its thoughts were all with its dear mate whom a cruel hawk had lately snatched away.
“Take two, two, two, two,” mourned the dove. The magpie heard this just as she was twining a slender twig around the top of her nest. So, without looking up, she said, “One will be enough.”
But the dove kept on saying, “Take two, two, two, two.” This made the magpie angry, and she said, “Don’t I tell you that one will be enough?”
“Take two, two, two, two!” still cried the turtledove. At last the magpie looked up and saw that no bird was near her but the silly dove.
“I’ll never give another lesson in nest building!” she cried. And she flew away and left the dove alone in the tree.
It was no use, after that, for any bird to ask the magpie how to make a nest; and, from that day to this, no bird has learned anything new about its trade.
All the blackbirds, the thrushes, the owls, and the doves, still build just as they did a thousand years ago. None of them seem to want better nests; and I doubt if any could learn how to make them now, even though the magpie should try to teach them again.
OUT OF THE NEST.[9]
Maud Lindsay
Once upon a time a mother bird and father bird built a nest in a tree. It was made of straw and leaves and all sorts of wonderful things, and even had lace trimmings on it.
Soon after the nest was finished, the mother bird put two eggs in it, and then she and the father bird thought of nothing but keeping those eggs safe and warm. Mother bird sat on them day and night; and even when father bird would say, “You really must fly about a little and let me take care of the eggs,” she did not like to leave them.
After a while two little birds came out of the shells, which was just what she had been hoping for all the time. The baby birds were both so weak and small that they could do nothing at all for themselves but open their mouths very wide and call, “Peep, peep! mother, dear, peep!” Mother bird and father bird were busy all day getting them something to eat. By and by they began to grow, and then they had soft feather clothes to wear, which are the best clothes in the world for baby birds.
Mother bird said to them one day, “You are almost ready to learn to fly”; and then they felt very large. That same day mother bird and father bird flew away together to get something for dinner; and while they were gone the little birds heard a very queer noise which seemed to come from a pond near the tree. This is the way it sounded: “Kerchunk! Kerchunk!”
“Oh! what can it be?” said the sister bird. “I’ll peep over the side of the nest and see,” said her brother. But when he put his head out he could see nothing although he heard the sound very plainly: “Kerchunk! Kerchunk!” Then he leaned out a little farther and a little farther, till his head was dizzy. “Peep, peep! You’ll fall!” cried the sister bird; and, sure enough, she had scarcely said it before he tumbled out of the nest, down, down to the ground! He was not hurt, but, oh, how frightened he was! “Peep, peep! mother, dear, peep!” he cried. “Peep!” cried the sister bird up in the nest, but the mother and father were too far away to hear their calls.
The brother bird hopped about on the ground and looked around him. He was near the pond now, and the sound was very loud: “Kerchunk! Kerchunk!” “Peep, peep, peep!” called the birdie, and in a moment up hopped a big frog. This was an old school-teacher frog, and he had been teaching all the little frogs to sing. “Kerchunk! Kerchunk!” said he. “How can I teach my frogs to sing when you are making such a noise?”
“Peep, peep! I want my mamma,” said the baby bird. Then the frog saw how young the birdie was, and he was very sorry for him. “Come with me,” he said, “and I will teach you to sing.” But the baby bird cried louder than ever at this, and a mother dove, who was singing her babies to sleep in a neighbouring tree, flew down to see what could be the matter.
“I can’t begin to get my children to sleep in all this fuss,” she said to the frog, but when she saw the little bird she was just as sorry as the frog had been. “Poor, dear baby,” she cried. “I will fly right off and find your mamma for you.” So she told her children to be good and quiet, and then away she flew. Before long she met the father and mother, and they all came back in a great hurry. Then they tried to get the baby bird into the nest again.
“He is entirely too young to be out of the nest,” cried his mother, “and he must get in again at once.” “Spread your wings and fly, as I do,” said the father bird. So the baby bird spread his wings and tried to fly; but, try as he would, he could not reach the nest in the tree.
“Put him into my school, and I will teach him to swim,” said the frog; “that is better than flying, and a great deal easier to learn, I am sure.” This was so kind of the frog that the mother bird thanked him; but she said she had to be very careful with her children, and that she was afraid the water might give the little bird a cold. While they were talking, they heard somebody coming along, whistling the jolliest tune!
“Dear me! Dear me!” cried the birds. “There comes a boy!” “He’s apt to have stones in his pocket,” said the frog. “He will carry my darling off and put him in a cage! Oh, fly! fly!” begged the mother bird. But before the baby bird even had time to say, “Peep!” the boy came in sight.
Then the father bird flew over the boy’s head and the mother bird down in front of him. The frog croaked and the dove cooed, but none of them could hide the little bird from him. “If you hurt him, I’ll peck your eyes out!” cried the poor mother, who hardly knew what she was saying; but the boy picked the little bird up, just as if he did not hear her. “Oh, what shall I do?” cried the mother bird.
Then the boy looked at her and at the tree where the nest was. “Coo, coo, coo! I think I know what he is going to do,” said the dove. “There’s no telling,” croaked the frog; and they all watched and wondered, while the boy put the bird in his pocket and began to climb the tree. He swung himself from branch to branch, climbing higher all the time, until at last he reached the pretty nest where the sister bird waited for her mother to come home.
Mother bird and father bird flew to the top of the tree to watch the boy. “Suppose he should take her, too,” said the mother bird. But what do you think he did? Yes, indeed. He put the brother bird back in the nest, as well as the mother bird could have done it herself.
“Thank you! Thank you!” sang the mother and father as the boy scrambled down again. “Peep, peep! Thank you!” called the little birds from the nest. “Coo, coo! I knew,” cried the dove. “Kerchunk! Kerchunk! I should like to have him in my school,” said the frog, as he hopped away to his pond.