The Cockatoo's Story

by Mrs. George Cupples

LISTENING TO THE COCKATOO'S STORY. Page [22].

"You said some time ago, Master Herbert," began the cockatoo, "that I was brought from the Indian Islands; and I suppose you're right, sir, though I can't say I ever heard the name before to-day: all I can say is, I remember the place well. When I popped my head out of my shell, I found other three heads had done the same, so I was the youngest of my family. A sad circumstance for me, as you will see. There we lay, without a single feather, and not even a particle of down to cover us, our heads feeling far too large for our naked bodies. We had to be as patient as we could, down in our nest in an old rotten tree, till the down began to come; but it was three or four months before we were fairly covered with feathers. Somehow, being the youngest, my feathers were longer of coming than were the others; and when our mother was out of hearing, my brothers would laugh at me, and make fun of my big head—for it certainly was a very large head. This treatment spoiled my temper, and I would sit and sulk by myself, taking a delight in refusing to join in any of their sports when a fourth was required. I used to creep up to the top of the tree, and sit trimming my feathers, spreading them out and trying to make the most of their scanty appearance, till my patience was rewarded; for beyond a doubt, at the end of the fifth month my plumage was something wonderful to behold for beauty. As for my head being large, it now helped to show off the splendid yellow crest; and the awkward look was quite gone. Still my temper hadn't improved; indeed I think it was worse, for conceit was added to my other bad qualities; and when I would have liked to be amiable and join the merry flock of cockatoos that lived in the trees near us, they would have nothing to say to me. My mother used often to moan and vex herself about me, and she did her best to keep as near me as she could, warning me that it was not safe for a cockatoo to wander far from his home. And then she would tell me of wonderful escapes she had made in her day, both from wild animals and the snares of wicked men. Though these stories frightened me terribly, I must own, making my crest stand up with fright to hear her, still I used to beg her to tell me more, for it was often a change from the dull hours I spent; and I must say my mother behaved in a most amiable manner towards me.

"Then she would take pains to show us what kind of fruits to eat, warning us particularly against the fruit of the cotton-tree, which, though pleasant to the taste, was a dangerous one for taking away the senses. Ah, if I had only followed her advice! Still, with my mother for company now and then, my days were very happy, in spite of the coldness and dislike of my brothers and their young companions. Indeed, living in my lovely home, it would have been strange if I had felt anything else. How often since, while sitting in this cage or on my perch, have I thought of those happy days of freedom! Forests of woods and grasses, bearing the most lovely flowers and the most delicious fruits, from the edge of the sea to the top of the mountain. And then the clear cool water, where we could plunge ourselves several times a day;—how different from the small quantity Marjory allows me! We lived close to the banks of a small river; and oh, it was so delightful, after plunging into the water, to keep shaking my plumage, until the greater portion of water was out, and then sit in the sun till I was quite dry! There were no men on our island, else I should have remembered seeing them; and nothing ever disturbed our slumbers, save the wild pigs that sometimes went about routing and grunting, or a cry from one of our band.

"And so time passed on, till we were a year old, when one day we were startled by hearing screams from a thicket not far off. On getting along as fast as I could, I met my brothers flying from one branch to another in the direction I was coming from, who screamed to me to escape, for an enemy was at hand. One of them said something about my mother, but what, I could not make out clearly; only I knew she was in danger somehow. I was in such a hurry to get to see what had happened to her—for I did love my mother—that I positively took a good long flight, and landed on a tree some distance off. Then, what was my astonishment to see a great large face, quite different from anything I had ever seen before, looking at me from round the trunk! And there, too, at the bottom of the tree, lay my poor mother, evidently dead. I heard him cry to another man below to hand him up his bow and arrow; but before he had got it I flew off once more, taking a longer flight than before. An old cockatoo told me afterwards that very likely my mother was not dead, but that she had only been stunned, as those men would have a button on the arrow to prevent it from killing her. It took me ever so many days to find my way back to my old home; and when I did find it, not one of my old companions was there. Gloomy though my disposition was, still I did not like the idea of living alone, and I set out to try to find them. On my way I met an old cockatoo who had been a friend of my poor mother's, and who like me had lost her companions, so we agreed to go on together. I found her a most intelligent companion, and she was very useful in showing me what fruit was good for eating, for there were many new kinds. She showed me some curious birds'-nests, and told me that men ate them; and a good hearty chuckle we had over it, you may be sure. We regaled ourselves by picking out the pulp of the banana, the palm, the lemon, and the berries from the coffee-tree; and coming upon an almond-tree, we stayed under it for a whole week. Then we proceeded on our journey. We must have travelled miles, and we were beginning to despair of ever seeing the flock again, when we heard a great chatter chatter, and in a few minutes we came in sight of a great number of birds of different colours, in earnest conversation.

DANGEROUS COMPANY. Page [29].

"'Stop, my boy,' said my companion; 'we had better not show ourselves for a little. They may be friends; but birds though they are, if they see anything strange in our appearance, they will fall upon us, and may peck out our feathers, if not our very eyes.'"

"After waiting for a little," continued the cockatoo, "and after listening very hard, my companion explained to me she thought we might venture to join the group; for if they weren't cockatoos, they were our cousins the parrots; and in a minute more she spread out her wings, and alighted in the midst of them. They were somewhat startled at first; but on her explaining why she was there, they received her very kindly; and she then called out to me to approach, for I had waited in a bush out of sight, feeling a little shy and nervous. They were greatly delighted with my appearance, and I fear they quite turned my head by their praises. I know I gave myself airs, and strutted about in a manner that would have vexed my poor mother, could she but have seen me. My companion over and over again reminded me to beware of conceit, saying that even in a cockatoo it was a dangerous thing to carry about with one; and that though our cousins were pleased with me at present, they would tire of praising me by-and-by, if they saw how foolish it made me. But I was only a year old at that time, and had always been a little headstrong and difficult to manage.

"As my old friend had said," continued the cockatoo, "my newly-found cousins were not long in finding out my bad qualities, and they were almost harder upon me than my own brothers had been; which caused my temper to give way again, and from being a very frank, obliging bird, I became quite a cross, ill-natured one. One day I had retired to the woods, and was sitting sulking by myself in a bush, when the old cockatoo came and perched herself on the branch above me. For some minutes she sat looking at me without uttering a sound; but every now and then she would shake her head, or raise up her crest in rather a fierce manner. At last I couldn't stand it any longer, and I cried out in a very angry tone of voice, 'Why, what do you mean by looking at me like that? I would rather not be disturbed.' And I gave a very ugly and angry screech.

"'Cockatoo,' said she, 'I am grieved to the heart by your behaviour. Take my advice, sir, and mend your ways, else I fear something bad will come of it.'