The Cedar-crow became more anxious than ever. 'There!' she thought; 'they will lay eggs and hatch new fledglings, and they, too, will all want to eat and drink; they will simply ravage my cedar. I shall have nothing left!'
She even left off going down to the Vagaï to drink. Yet she was tormented with thirst: her tongue hung out; her eyes distended; she could hardly breathe; and still she dared not leave her tree. She endured it till nightfall. At night all the birds settled down to rest sweetly after their day's work; only here and there an owl with great round eyes would flit past. But the Cedar-crow could not go to sleep; she had to fly to the river and drink; and this misery was not only once—at dawn to-morrow it would begin again!
At last the envious bird could bear it no longer. Clearly she could not manage alone. She began thinking how to get out of the difficulty. It occurred to her that it might be better to take another cedar-crow into partnership with her, and build a nest; certainly it would be another mouth to feed, but then the two of them together could guard their property, and not lose a single cone. And even if they had fledglings, it would still be better than now: in the first place, she would feel safer; in the second place, with so many to keep watch, not a single nut would be lost, let alone a cone. And the cedar was very big; it would be enough for five, even ten families.
The Cedar-crow polished her beak, pecked off a cone, glancing about her as she did so, flew round the cedar, and settled herself to look out for a mate. There, just opposite her, on a neighbouring fir-tree, sat another cedar-crow, large and heavy, with a great strong beak. It sat looking at the cedar; evidently it wanted some nuts.
The forest landowner flew across to it, and began to explain: 'This is my estate; no one has a right to touch it; but, if you like, I will take you into companionship, if you will help me to guard our cedar from intruders.' The male looked at the cedar-tree, and saw that it was a fine one. 'You won't get such a cedar every day.'
'All right,' said he; 'if one lets every one in to share in God's blessings one will just starve. I've seen enough of these fools that do nothing and lay by nothing: just fly in coveys, peck everything bare, and there's not a thing left. I myself was just looking for a good cedar, to take possession of it, and let no one come near.'
They paired, and set to work to build their nest; one would bring the materials, or go down to drink, while the other guarded the estate.
Well, some time passed, and behold their little fledglings peeped out of the nest. The old Cedar-crows were more anxious than ever about their property; formerly they had only watched over the cones, now they let no one so much as fly past the cedar-tree.
But how were they to prevent the birds from ever flying past, when forests and meadows and water alike swarm with them? The greedy birds drove away their comrades day after day and the whole day long; by the evening they could hardly move their wings for weariness. At last they got worn out. What were they to do? They thought and thought, and at last an idea struck them.