Then all the birds along the creek and from the woods gathered in the neighboring bushes to await Kingfisher’s arrival. They had a long wait, for he had gone far in search of his dinner. But, at length, Catbird spied the sturdy form wending its way up stream. Breathless with anticipation, the birds hid in the undergrowth just as Kingfisher took his favorite perch in the dead willow. Here he spent much time in arranging his plumage, a performance which greatly aggravated the birds in hiding. But at last, even this was over, and everybody in the thicket gave a start of expectancy as Kingfisher, after a wary look about, launched himself from the dead limb. Then, as he entered the hole where, unknown to him, Muskrat was hiding, each one held his breath.
But surely the listeners were not prepared for such a sound as greeted their ears. With a terrified rattle which no one had ever heard before, Kingfisher shot out of the hole and bolted down stream. He looked neither to the right nor left, nor, indeed, did he even see the birds on either side of him. His ears were wide open and every feather of his head stood on end. To tell the simple truth, he was frightened out of his wits.
Many of the birds were sorry for their prank when they saw how frightened Kingfisher was, but many also enjoyed it. Cuckoo, from the willow, kept calling after Kingfisher, “Coward, coward, coward, coward!” And, of course, Chewink, as he hops from limb to limb, with his usual quick temper wanted to know to whom Cuckoo referred, and called in a challenging voice, “To me? to me? to me?”
But Kingfisher was too far away to hear either of them. Even if he had, he would not have dared to stop. His fright was so great that he never got over it. Ever since, the feathers of his head have remained on end, and his voice, save for that terrified rattle, is gone. Listen some day, if you will, as long as you wish, and you will hear him make no other sound. Some say—but, let us not repeat it unless we are sure—that he has never recovered his mind. Certainly, as we see him sitting on the dead willow hour after hour, gazing into the water, he does seem a little peculiar. But, perhaps, he is only trying to rid himself of the remembrance of his narrow escape from that frightful monster which he found occupying his home.
LITTLE POLLY PRENTISS
BY ELIZABETH LINCOLN GOULD
CHAPTER IX
HIRAM
SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS.
Polly Prentiss is an orphan who, for the greater part of her life, has lived with a distant relative, Mrs. Manser, the mistress of Manser Farm. Miss Hetty Pomeroy, a maiden lady of middle age, has, ever since the death of her favorite niece, been on the lookout for a little girl whom she might adopt. She is attracted by Polly’s appearance and quaint manners, and finally decides to take her home and keep her for a month’s trial. In the foregoing chapters, Polly has arrived at her new home, and the great difference between the way of living at Pomeroy Oaks and her past life affords her much food for wonderment.