It was not long before I discovered that Dan’s beautiful skin covered one of the naughtiest bird hearts I had ever known. He was so clever though, about the mischief he performed, that I rarely found him out until it was too late to punish him for it. I often used to shut him up in the owl’s cage for punishment, and I felt convinced that he knew what he went in there for, as he was always better after coming out.
His wickedness consisted in persistent bullying. He was no fighter. His slender body and bill proclaimed that. His chief pleasure in life was to mischievously frighten birds from their food.
Sometimes he would select a bird as large as a pigeon. I have seen a big fantail spring from the ground in nervous terror when Dan, with a menacing hiss, came rushing at him from some sheltered nook.
His attacks were always in the rear, when it was a case of a large bird. If he had dared to attack the pigeon in front, the big fellow would have given him a disdainful peck.
One day I found a Java sparrow dead in a box beside her nest full of eggs. Poor little mother bird! Here was some tragedy. I picked up her emaciated body, and watched her mate.
He was thin and nervous in appearance, and taking advantage of my appearance in the aviary, was trying to pick up some of the white French millet seeds, of which he was very fond. He was meanwhile keeping a wary eye on Dan, who did not dare to attack him in my presence.
I read the whole story. The little mother had succumbed first, for the times of eating would be few and far between, compared with those of her mate. She had died for her nest—had sat on the eggs till her half-starved condition forced her to succumb. I gave Dan a wrathful glance and took the male Java to a sunny room upstairs, where he soon became as fat as a partridge.
CHAPTER V
A ROBIN AND SPARROW FRIENDSHIP
Another one of Dan’s victims was a pine grosbeak, a most amiable, gentle bird that I rescued from a small cage in a bird-store.