ROBIN REDBREAST
There was once a hunter who had only one son, and when his son grew up he said to him: “My son, I am growing old, and you must hunt for me.”
“Very well, father,” said his son, and he took his father’s bow and arrows and went out into the woods. But he was a dreamy boy, and forgot what he had come for, and spent the morning wondering at the beautiful flowers, and trees, and mosses, and hills, and valleys that he saw. When he saw a bird on a tree, he forgot that he had come to shoot it, and lay listening to its song; and when he saw a deer come down to drink at the stream he put down his bow and arrows and began to talk to the deer in the deer’s own language. At last he saw that the sun was setting. Then he looked round for his bow and arrows, and they were gone!
When he got home to the wigwam, his father met him at the door and said: “My son, you have had a long day’s hunting. Have you killed so much that you had to leave it in the woods? Let us go and fetch it together.”
The young man looked very much ashamed of himself, and said: “Father, I forgot all about the hunting. The woods, and the sky, and the flowers, and the birds, and the beasts were so interesting that I forgot all about what you had sent me to do.”
His father was in a terrible rage with him, and in the morning he sent him out again, with new bow and arrows, saying: “Take care that you don’t forget this time.”
The son went along saying to himself: “I mustn’t forget, I mustn’t forget, I mustn’t forget.” But as soon as a bird flew across the path he forgot all about what his father had said, and called to the bird in the bird’s own language, and the bird came and sat on the tree above him, and sang to him so beautifully all day that the young man sat as if he was dreaming till sunset.
“Oh dear!” said the young man, “what shall I do? My father will kill me if I go back without anything to eat.”
“Never mind,” said the bird; “if he kills you, we shall give you feathers and paint, and you can fly away and be a bird like ourselves.”