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the song of the cardinal-第4章

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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
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