the song of the cardinal-第4节

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curling　over　sugar…camp　and　clearing；　in　the　forests　animals　were

rousing　from　their　long　sleep；　the　shad　were　starting　anew　their

never…ending　journey　up　the　shining　river；　peeps　of　green　were

mantling　hilltop　and　valley；　and　the　northland　was　ready　for　its

dearest　springtime　treasures　to　come　home　again。



From　overhead　were　ringing　those　first　glad　notes；　caught　nearer

the　Throne　than　those　of　any　other　bird；　〃Spring　o'　year！　Spring

o'　year！〃；　while　stilt…legged　little　killdeers　were　scudding

around　the　Limberlost　and　beside　the　river；　flinging　from

cloudland　their　〃Kill　deer！　Kill　deer！〃　call。　　The　robins　in　the

orchards　were　pulling　the　long　dried　blades　of　last　year's　grass

from　beneath　the　snow　to　line　their　mud…walled　cups；　and　the

bluebirds　were　at　the　hollow　apple　tree。　　Flat　on　the　top　rail；

the　doves　were　gathering　their　few　coarse　sticks　and　twigs

together。　　It　was　such　a　splendid　place　to　set　their　cradle。　　The

weatherbeaten；　rotting　old　rails　were　the　very　colour　of　the　busy

dove　mother。　　Her　red…rimmed　eye　fitted　into　the　background　like

a　tiny　scarlet　lichen　cup。　　Surely　no　one　would　ever　see　her！　　

The　Limberlost　and　shining　river；　the　fields　and　forests；　the

wayside　bushes　and　fences；　the　stumps；　logs；　hollow　trees；　even

the　bare　brown　breast　of　Mother　Earth；　were　all　waiting　to　cradle

their　own　again；　and　by　one　of　the　untold　miracles　each　would

return　to　its　place。



There　was　intoxication　in　the　air。　　The　subtle；　pungent；

ravishing　odours　on　the　wind；　of　unfolding　leaves；　ice…water

washed　plants；　and　catkin　pollen；　were　an　elixir　to　humanity。　

The　cattle　of　the　field　were　fairly　drunk　with　it；　and　herds；

dry…fed　during　the　winter；　were　coming　to　their　first　grazing

with　heads　thrown　high；　romping；　bellowing；　and　racing　like　wild

things。



The　north　wind；　sweeping　from　icy　fastnesses；　caught　this　odour

of　spring；　and　carried　it　to　the　orange　orchards　and　Everglades；

and　at　a　breath　of　it；　crazed　with　excitement；　the　Cardinal　went

flaming　through　the　orchard；　for　with　no　one　to　teach　him；　he

knew　what　it　meant。　　The　call　had　come。　　Holidays　were　over。



It　was　time　to　go　home；　time　to　riot　in　crisp　freshness；　time　to

go　courting；　time　to　make　love；　time　to　possess　his　own；　time　for

mating　and　nest…building。　　All　that　day　he　flashed　around；

nervous　with　dread　of　the　unknown；　and　palpitant　with　delightful

expectation；　but　with　the　coming　of　dusk　he　began　his　journey

northward。



When　he　passed　the　Everglades；　he　winged　his　way　slowly；　and

repeatedly　sent　down　a　challenging　〃Chip；〃　but　there　was　no

answer。　　Then　the　Cardinal　knew　that　the　north　wind　had　carried　a

true　message；　for　the　king　and　his　followers　were　ahead　of　him　on

their　way　to　the　Limberlost。　　Mile　after　mile；　a　thing　of　pulsing

fire；　he　breasted　the　blue…black　night；　and　it　was　not　so　very

long　until　he　could　discern　a　flickering　patch　of　darkness

sweeping　the　sky　before　him。　　The　Cardinal　flew　steadily　in　a

straight　sweep；　until　with　a　throb　of　triumph　in　his　heart；　he

arose　in　his　course；　and　from　far　overhead；　flung　down　a　boastful

challenge　to　the　king　and　his　followers；　as　he　sailed　above　them

and　was　lost　from　sight。



It　was　still　dusky　with　the　darkness　of　night　when　he　crossed　the

Limberlost；　dropping　low　enough　to　see　its　branches　laid　bare；　to

catch　a　gleam　of　green　in　its　swelling　buds；　and　to　hear　the

wavering　chorus　of　its　frogs。　　But　there　was　no　hesitation　in　his

flight。　　Straight　and　sure　he　winged　his　way　toward　the　shining

river；　and　it　was　only　a　few　more　miles　until　the　rolling　waters

of　its　springtime　flood　caught　his　eye。　　Dropping　precipitately；

he　plunged　his　burning　beak　into　the　loved　water；　then　he　flew

into　a　fine　old　stag　sumac　and　tucked　his　head　under　his　wing　for

a　short　rest。　　He　had　made　the　long　flight　in　one　unbroken　sweep；

and　he　was　sleepy。　　In　utter　content　he　ruffled　his　feathers　and

closed　his　eyes；　for　he　was　beside　the　shining　river；　and　it

would　be　another　season　before　the　orange　orchard　would　ring

again　with　his　〃Good　Cheer！　Good　Cheer！〃







Chapter　2



〃Wet　year！　Wet　year！〃　prophesied　the　Cardinal





The　sumac　seemed　to　fill　his　idea　of　a　perfect　location　from　the

very　first。　　He　perched　on　a　limb；　and　between　dressing　his

plumage　and　pecking　at　last　year's　sour　dried　berries；　he　sent

abroad　his　prediction。　　Old　Mother　Nature　verified　his　wisdom　by

sending　a　dashing　shower；　but　he　cared　not　at　all　for　a　wetting。

He　knew　how　to　turn　his　crimson　suit　into　the　most　perfect　of

water…proof　coats；　so　he　flattened　his　crest；　sleeked　his

feathers；　and　breasting　the　April　downpour；　kept　on　calling　for

rain。　　He　knew　he　would　appear　brighter　when　it　was　past；　and　he

seemed　to　know；　too；　that　every　day　of　sunshine　and　shower　would

bring　nearer　his　heart's　desire。



He　was　a　very　Beau　Brummel　while　he　waited。　　From　morning　until

night　he　bathed；　dressed　his　feathers；　sunned　himself；　fluffed

and　flirted。　　He　strutted　and　〃chipped〃　incessantly。　　He　claimed

that　sumac　for　his　very　own；　and　stoutly　battled　for　possession

with　many　intruders。　　It　grew　on　a　densely　wooded　slope；　and　the

shining　river　went　singing　between　grassy　banks；　whitened　with

spring　beauties；　below　it。　　Crowded　around　it　were　thickets　of

papaw；　wild　grape…vines；　thorn；　dogwood；　and　red　haw；　that

attracted　bug　and　insect；　and　just　across　the　old　snake　fence　was

a　field　of　mellow　mould　sloping　to　the　river；　that　soon　would　be

plowed　for　corn；　turning　out　numberless　big　fat　grubs。



He　was　compelled　almost　hourly　to　wage　battles　for　his　location；

for　there　was　something　fine　about　the　old　stag　sumac　that

attracted　homestead　seekers。　　A　sober　pair　of　robins　began　laying

their　foundations　there　the　morning　the　Cardinal　arrived；　and　a

couple　of　blackbirds　tried　to　take　possession　before　the　day　had

passed。　　He　had　little　trouble　with　the　robins。　　They　were　easily

conquered；　and　with　small　protest　settled　a　rod　up　the　bank　in　a

wild…plum　tree；　but　the　air　was　thick　with　〃chips；〃　chatter；　and

red　and　black　feathers；　before　the　blackbirds　acknowledged

defeat。　　They　were　old…timers；　and　knew　about　the　grubs　and　the

young　corn；　but　they　also　knew　when　they　were　beaten；　so　they

moved　down　stream　to　a　scrub　oak；　trying　to　assure　each　other

that　it　was　the　place　they　really　had　wanted　from　the　first。



The　Cardinal　was　left　boasting　and　strutting　in　the　sumac；　but　in

his　heart　he　found　it　lonesome　business。　　Being　the　son　of　a

king；　he　was　much　too　dignified　to　beg　for　a　mate；　and　besides；

it　took　all　his　time　to　guard　the　sumac；　but　his　eyes　were　wide

open　to　all　that　went　on　around　him；　and　he　envied　the　blackbird

his　glossy；　devoted　little　sweetheart；　with　all　his　might。　　He

almost　strained　his　voice　trying　to　rival　the　love…song　of　a

skylark　that　hung　among　the　clouds　above　a　meadow　across　the

river；　and　poured　down　to　his　mate　a　story　of　adoring　love　and

sympathy。　　He　screamed　a　〃Chip〃　of　such　savage　jealousy　at　a　pair

of　killdeer　lovers　that　he　sent　them　scampering　down　the　river

bank　without　knowing　that　the　crime　of　which　they　stood　convicted

was　that　of　being　mated　when　he　was　not。　　As　for　the　doves　that

were　already　brooding　on　the　line　fence　beneath　the　maples；　the

Cardinal　was　torn　between　two　opinions。



He　was　alone；　he　was　love…sick；　and　he　was　holding　the　finest

building　location　beside　the　shining　river　for　his　mate；　and　her

slowness　in　coming　made　their　devotion　difficult　to　endure　when

he　coveted　a　true　love；　but　it　seemed　to　the　Cardinal　that　he

never　could　so　forget　himself　as　to　emulate　the　example　of　that

dove　lover。　　The　dove　had　no　dignity；　he　was　so　effusive　he　was　a

nuisance。　　He　kept　his　dignified　Quaker　mate　stuffed　to

discomfort；　he　clung　to　the　side　of　the　nest　trying　to　help　brood

until　he　almost　crowded　her　from　the　eggs。　　He　pestered　her　with

caresses　and　cooed　over　his　love…song　until　every　chipmunk　on　the

line　fence　was　familiar　with　his　story。　　The　Cardinal's　temper

was　worn　to　such　a　fine　edge　that　he　darted　at　the　dove　one　day

and　pulled　a　big　tuft　of　feathers　from　his　back。　　When　he　had

returned　to　the　sumac；　he　was　compelled　to　admit　that　his　anger

lay　quite　as　much　in　that　he　had　no　one　to　love　as　because　the

dove　was　disgustingly　devoted。



Every　morning　brought　new　arrivalstrim　young　females　fresh　from

their　long　holiday；　and　big　boastful　males　appearing　their

brightest　and　bravest；　each　singer　almost　splitting　his　throat　in

the　effort　to　captivate　the　mate　he　coveted。　　They　came　flashing

down　the　river　bank；　like　rockets　of　scarlet；　gold；　blue；　and

black；　rocking　on　the　willows；　splashing　in　the　water；　bursting

into　jets　of　melody；　making　every　possible　display　of　their

beauty　and　music；　and　at　times　fighting　fiercely　when　they

discovered　that　the　females　they　were　wooing　favoured　their

rivals　and　desired　only　to　be　friendly　with　them。



The　heart　of　the　Car