As the Eagle flew upward once more, all the fowls ran out to watch him. They could see the Young Cock struggling as the sharp talons of the Eagle held him tightly. “Poor fellow!” said the Pullets. The Cocks were wise enough to keep still. The Hens murmured something to themselves which nobody else could understand. Only the Plymouth Rock Hen said very much about it, and that was because she had children to bring up. One of the Young Cock’s tail-feathers floated down from the sky and fell into their yard. “Leave it right there,” she said. “Leave it there, and every time you look at it, I want you to remember that the Cock to whom it belonged might now be having a pleasant time on this farm, if he had not been quarrelsome and bragged.”
[THE GUINEA-FOWLS COME AND GO]
It was only a few days after the Young Cock had been carried away by the Eagle, that the Man drove back from town with a very queer look upon his face. A small crate in the back end of the light wagon contained three odd-looking fowls. The Little Girls left their mud pies and ran toward the wagon. When they saw the crate, they ran into the house and called their mother to come out also.
“What have you now?” said she, as she stepped onto the side porch.
“Guinea-fowls,” answered the Man. “Just listen to this letter.” He drew it from his pocket and read aloud: “I send you, by express, a Guinea-Cock and two Guinea-Hens. They were given to me, and I have no place for keeping them. I remember hearing that they are excellent for scaring away Crows, so I send them on in the hope that they may be useful to you. If you do not wish to keep them, do what you choose with them.”
As he read three small and perfectly bald heads were thrust through the openings of the crate and turned and twisted until their owners had seen everything around. “I don’t know anything about Guinea-fowls,” said the Man, “but I will at least keep these long enough to find out. I have seen the Crows fly down and annoy the Hens several times, and it may be that these are just what we need.”