At the sight of these little birds and Sukey he became so excited that I had to bring him back to the few canaries and the quiet of my study. A sick bird is like a sick person—quiet and warmth are necessary for a perfect recovery.
As the days went by he kept on improving, and I learned his history. Some of the Canadian soldiers who went to South Africa to take part in the war against the Boers had brought back this little captive, and had given him to the young man who sent him to me. Who owned him in Africa or how old he was, I could not find out. His owner said that he was inclined to be a delicate bird, and as he had not time to fuss with him I might keep him if I wished. I was most pleased to have him, and found him a great ornament in my aviary. Contrary to the popular opinion that one love-bird will not live alone, Red-face kept in the best of health and spirits, and as there were now no other parrakeets in my aviary, he chose a red-headed Brazil cardinal for a friend. The cardinal hated him, and beat him if he went too near, so Red-face calmly gave him up and spent his days flying about the aviary and warbling happily to himself.
I was so sorry for what I considered his state of loneliness that one day, seeing a rosy-faced love-bird in town, I bought him and brought him home. In order that the two might become acquainted I put them in a cage. They got on pretty well together, but when I took them out Red-face beat the stranger.
In order to illustrate the vagaries of birds, I may say that the Brazil cardinal that hated Red-face and drove him away, allowed the stranger that looked exactly like him to sit near his nest. There is nothing but human nature that at all resembles the doubled and twisted workings of bird nature.
Red-face and the stranger were separated this autumn. When I left home I thought that my pretty Africans would be better off in a large American aviary under the care of a skilled curator, so I attempted to catch them both. The stranger hid and is still at home. I only got Red-face. He is in New York State, and his fate is unsettled, for in the aviary to which I sent him, the gray-headed love-birds object so to his presence that it was feared he would be killed. So he is still seeking a home, and it is possible that he may once more find himself back in Canada with his former bird companions.
CHAPTER XXII
CRESTED CARDINALS
I shall never forget the day that I bought my first cardinals.
I stood in a Boston bird-dealer’s shop, looking about me at the great variety of birds. I knew but few of them by name, but I loved them all and wanted them all.
I was most anxious to have a talking minor—the glossy, dark bird that is the only one that will reply when spoken to.