The Cockatoo's Story

by Mrs. George Cupples

A LESSON IN CONTENTMENT. Page [42].

"Oh, that I had listened even then to the old mother parrot's wise advice!" said the cockatoo, as he scratched his eye. "Ah, sir," he said, turning to Herbert, "it's harder to bear troubles when they come upon us by our own folly.

"The sun was scarcely up when the green parrot was beside me; and as I had promised to join him, I did not like to hesitate or draw back now. So we set out on our travels, without even saying good-bye to any one. For days we travelled on through the forest, and a happy enough time it was; for my companion was apparently delighted at the idea of his freedom, and chattered away in a very amiable manner. But toward the end of the third day we were startled by hearing strange sounds; and on peering down from the branches, we saw a man. I did not know he was a man at the time; but I found out to my cost what he was only too soon. He had some dogs with him, and seemed to be waiting for something, for he peeped cautiously round a tree every now and then, bidding the dogs lie close. Then in a moment came a fearful crack from a gun he carried, and something gave a great roar and a wild snort, and I nearly lost my senses with the fright. It was all I could do to clutch on by the branch, my legs shook so with fear; and as for my companion, if it hadn't been for falling into a cleft in a branch, he would have gone straight down on to the man's wide-spreading hat. The cry had come from a boar, which lay dead or dying; and in a very few minutes the man had fastened something to his legs, and began dragging him away, while the dogs capered, and danced, and barked round them.

"You may well believe we felt no anxiety to continue our travels, for a little. There were not many trees near us with fruit that we cared for, except a cotton-tree; and I ate and ate, wondering why my mother could have been so stupid as to say its fruit was not safe. But all at once I began to feel my eyes shutting; and to rouse myself I flew on to another tree, where my companion soon joined me. Though it was broad daylight, I was as sleepy as if it had been the dead of night; and I recollect nothing more, till, on opening my eyes, I found myself in a dark, dingy place, and heard strange noises—grunts coming from under my feet, cries from every side; and then such a number of strange-looking creatures all about, and one quite different in colour from the others standing near where I was tied; for I soon found I was securely fastened by the foot."

"That was my uncle," said Herbert; "and he told me how he had found you and your companion quite stupified with eating the cotton seeds; and that was a Dyak log-house you were in."

"When I recovered my senses," said the cockatoo, "I had been taken on board ship, and placed in a large wicker-cage. There were ever so many more birds in the ship, but I did not see them then, and thought I was quite alone. However, I had not been many hours in my cage when, to my horror, a large monkey came and stared at me, putting his ugly hairy face so close to the cage, that it was all I could do to scream with fright. At first the men drove him away, but they were soon too busy to pay any attention to my cries; and somehow I got to be less frightened, when I saw that he couldn't get near me, though he tried ever so hard. Round and round he went, tugging at the bars in vain; then he mounted on the top, and peered at me through the openings, grinning in a very ugly manner. Now, I had always been considered a bold cockatoo, and anything but a coward; and so, when I saw his tail sticking between the bars, I flew down to the bottom of the cage, and seizing it, gave it such a bite that I nipped the piece quite out! Away he went, howling and yelling; but though he showed it to ever so many of the men, they said it served him right for teasing me.

THE COCKATOO'S REVENGE. Page [50].

"It was, no doubt, very dull, but I was greatly cheered by the company of a little girl, the daughter of one of the passengers. She used to come down every morning, and chatter away to me about all sorts of things, not one of which I understood, except that she always called me Pretty Cockatoo, as you do, Master Herbert. She knew, too, what I liked to eat, and would bring me almonds, and fruit, and sweet cake, and would stay chattering away to me while I ate them. Soon I began to weary for her coming, and would sit counting the hours, and forgetting my wrongs, while waiting for her to come again. I liked the almonds, of course; but I liked to see her face, and hear her kind voice, far more. And I think I was less sulky and unhappy during that time than I had been all my life. It was the parting from her that upset me, and made me fall into a gloomy and sulky state of mind. I well remember the last day we were together. She came to me with a piece of cake she had saved for me from her own lunch; and I seemed somehow to understand what she was saying. I felt at the time she was asking me to be a good bird; but now that I have known you, sir, so long, and am better acquainted with the English language, I know she told me how much happier I should be if I were good. 'Oh fie, Cockatoo,' I think I hear her saying, 'how naughty of you to bite the captain's finger; you ought to be a good bird, sir,—and he is so kind to you, and all the birds aboard.' It was all very well for Miss Maud to speak of the captain being good; but I could not forget he had taken me from my home, and made me a prisoner. Ah, sir, you would not like to have your liberty taken from you; you would feel it hard; and you would look upon the person who held you captive, however kind he was, as a foe instead of a friend."

"And are you still longing for your freedom so much, Cockatoo?" said Herbert, who could not bear the idea of any of his pets being unhappy.