Black, in fact, was going through a most singular performance. He threw himself on the ground, wallowed about in the dust, and struck the earth with his wings as though he had gone crazy.
"He is trying to work himself up to a fighting pitch," said Mr. Van Zeilin. "See! the gray is coming nearer. Watch him. Look! he is going through the same manœuvre as the other."
It was extraordinary to see the two birds. The gray did his best to work himself into a passion, the black meanwhile keeping his eye on him, and walking about in an uneasy way. Finally the rightful owner of the nest made one rush, and the other, alas! ran away.
"Oh, what a coward!" cried Tom.
"Not at all," returned Mr. Van Zeilin. "He recognizes the rights of property, and knocks under to the real owner of the nest."
"Hi!" exclaimed Tom, suddenly, and he jumped two feet at least. An ostrich had come up to him quietly, and had begun to peck at the brass buttons on the sleeve of his jacket.
Mr. Van Zeilin laughed. "No danger this time," he said. "That is a female bird. The females are very gentle. Now she is pecking at the locket on my watch chain. Her eyes are as soft as those of a gazelle, are they not?"
"She is a pretty creature, but she has no long plumes," said Tom, examining her.
"No, only short downy feathers, useful for trimming."
"My sister has a coat trimmed with little soft feathers like these," Tom said. "I wonder if ladies and girls ever think of the trouble it is to get their feathers for them?"