FROM THE BARNYARD FENCE

Had not the old hen been such a watchful mother she would never have been able to care for such a big, fluffy family.

Had not Phyllis been such a wide-awake little girl, she would have never heard and seen all that I am about to tell you.

Mother Speckle was scratching patiently in the barnyard. Now and again she gave a loud call and her ten little ones ran wildly for the bug or worm which their mother had found for them.

Phyllis was just coming into the barnyard with a cup of meal for Mother Speckle's family, when a strange cry from the old hen startled her.

Phyllis looked and saw every chick running as fast as its little legs could carry it to the hovering mother wings. Soon every chicken baby was hidden from sight and the chicken mother was clucking less loudly.

"What can be the matter?" cried Phyllis, and then looking up she saw a hawk circling in the air above.

She snatched off her hat and waved it wildly at the hawk. At the same time she shouted as fiercely as she could.

The hawk soared calmly in the air, rising ever higher and higher. The mother hen, calling softly to her babies, led the little ones to the protecting shelter of some low bushes. Then Phyllis sprinkled the meal and soon the chicken hawk was quite forgotten by Mother Speckle and her brood.

But Phyllis still watched eagerly for the hawk. She feared that he would return. But she could now see nothing of him.

On the fence post, not far away, sat a big black raven croaking gravely to himself.

"You are not a lovely bird either," said the little girl, but the raven did not hear her.

When she had crept up very close to the post on which the raven sat, Phyllis again saw the hawk sailing in wide circles nearer and nearer.

"Caw! Caw!" cried the raven, rising in the air, high above the barn. "I, too, can sail about in circles! Caw! Caw! Caw!"

The hawk said nothing, but quietly settled on the fence post. The raven still circled in the air, but ever nearer.

The hawk looked up. The raven wagged his head solemnly and uttered his sad, harsh cry. He shook out his black feathers and sat down again on the post.

"I am called the bird of ill omen," said the raven. "Some people think that I bring bad luck. Others think I eat too much of their corn. No one likes me. No one thinks me beautiful.

"Yet if you will look at my black coat you will see how glossy it is. My back fairly gleams in the sunlight. Sometimes I catch gleams of purple and green on my wings. See how soft and loose are the feathers about my throat. They make a fringe about my neck of which I am somewhat proud.

"I do not harm people, and I surely should not be blamed for my appetite. To be sure, I do eat corn and grain. I also eat grubs, worms, field mice, in fact anything which comes in my way.

"I have a home up in the top of the cedar-tree. My nest is round and firm. It is woven of sticks and grasses and lined with wool which I myself pick from the sheep's back.

"We reline the old nest and repair it beautifully every housecleaning time.

"My babies are good children, but they do not in fact look much like me. Perhaps you might think them better looking than their parents. They are black and white.

"Their mother says that the raven babies will outgrow the white feathers soon. She declares that she and I had once as many white feathers as our babies. It seems hard to believe, but perhaps she is right.

"At any rate, they are my children and I do the best I can for them. To me they are very dear, but I fear they will go through life as unloved as I! Caw! Caw! Caw!"

The chicken-hawk ruffled his brown feathers carelessly. He drew in his breath, making a whistling noise which to Phyllis, hiding so quietly below, sounded quite like escaping steam.

"People do not like me either," said the hawk, shrugging his shoulders. "But for all that I shall not sit and mourn.

"I know that my feathers are handsome. I know that I am a good husband and father. I know that I can sail about in the air as gracefully as any bird in the world.

"I sometimes eat insects, but I wonder, Mr. Raven, at your fondness for corn and grain. You should try some of these small birds which are flying about."

"I fear—" began the raven.

"Fear?" cried the hawk, striking out with his strong curved claws. "I do not know what fear is! Look at my short curved bill! Look at my sharp claws! Look at my long wings, which can carry me so swiftly and so far!

"There is scarcely a bird of the air which does not fear me. They skim out of sight at my approach.

"You should see me pounce upon young ducks. It is great fun. Yesterday I was soaring above the pond, when I saw a whole family of young ducks out for their first swim. Without a sound I dropped down, seized one, and bore it off in my claws. I sat in the tree-top to eat it. It was very tender, but also very small. I decided to have another. This time the young ducks saw me. They dived head first into the water.

"I laughed to myself. I knew that they would soon come up. When in half a minute one appeared, I was quick enough to catch him.

"Later I carried a small chicken home to my nest in the big oak on the hill yonder. My nest is a very simple affair,—just a few crooked sticks. The lining is of leaves and a few pieces of loose bark which we picked up.

"Come and see me sometime, Mr. Raven. I will show my babies to you. They are wonderful birdlings with bright yellow eyes and bluish bills.

"Just now I must be off. I see Mrs. Speckle has ventured out from the bushes again and that little girl with the flapping hat—"

The little girl and the "flapping hat" sprang up from the fence-corner with such a shout that the chicken-hawk circled away into the air and did not return that day.

The raven flew away, crying sadly, "Caw! Caw! Caw!" Mother Speckle went on quietly catching bugs for her downy babies.

THE FIRST HAWK

During the short Greenland summer the Eskimos live along the seacoast. They put up their strange skin huts and hunt and fish and make merry through the season when the sun shines at midnight.

Now in places along the Greenland coast there are steep high cliffs. Here the birds which fly farther north in summer make their nests.

Often, as the Eskimo sits by his campfire, he hears the half-angry, half-sad cry of "Kea! Kea! Kea!" Looking up then, he often sees a lonely hawk sitting on the highest, most desolate cliff.

The Eskimo father laughs when he hears this cry and sees the lonely bird on the cliff top. Then the little Eskimo children creep nearer to their father with certainty that a new story is in store for them.

"Tell us the story of the hawk!" the Eskimo children cry eagerly.

This then is the story which the Eskimo father tells to his little ones "in their funny furry clothes."

"Long, long ago in a tiny Eskimo village, there lived a strange-looking old woman. Her neck was so short that she really looked as though she had no neck at all and as though her head was set upon her shoulders.

"People laughed when they saw the funny-looking old woman. Some were so unkind as to make fun of her strange appearance.

"This unkindness made the old woman very unhappy.

"By and bye the children of the village went every day to the hut of the old woman to play.

"They teased and tormented her. If she raised the bearskin curtain at the doorway and spoke to them they did not heed her.

"'Short neck! Short neck!' the rude children shouted. Then they stood and laughed at her.

"So it came that the poor old woman grew more and more unhappy. To escape her tormentors she often climbed to the cliff tops and sat on the edges of high rocks where it was difficult to follow.

"Here, safe and quiet, she would sit for hours. Sometimes in her loneliness she raised her arms above her head and cried aloud.

"The people of the tiny Eskimo village often saw the lonely figure on the cliffs. They noticed that the old woman stayed less and less in her little snow hut in the village.

"Then one morning an Eskimo child, looking up, thought she saw the old woman sitting as usual on the rocks. But the child's brother said that he saw only a strange bird with a very short neck.

"At that moment the bird raised its wings and flapped them above its head.

"'Kea! Kea! Kea!' cried the strange new bird. 'Kea! Kea! Kea! who was it called me short neck?'

"'Ah,' said the children's father, looking up from his fishing-nets, 'I think you both were right.'"

ORIGIN OF THE RAVEN AND THE MACAW

(ZUNI CREATION MYTH)

Long, long ago there were but few Indians on the earth. The world was not as it is now. The earth people did not understand things as they now understand them.

It therefore happened that a beautiful Indian prince came to live with the earth people.

In his hand he carried a plume stick. It was a magic wand and was covered with feathers of beautiful colours.

There were yellow feathers. There were red feathers. There were blue-green feathers. There were black and white and gray feathers.

Fastened to this magic wand were also many strange shells and charms which the earth children did not understand and which the strange prince did not explain fully.

"What is this strange plume stick?" asked the earth children.

"It is the magic wand which tests the hearts of earth children," was the reply.

The earth children wondered, but they did not understand.

"Ah, but show us what you mean!" they cried, eagerly.

"Look!" replied the strange prince.

Then amid the plumes and charms of the magic wand there appeared four round things.

"They are eggs!" cried the earth children. "Two are blue like the sky. Two are red-brown like the dust of our own pleasant earth!"

Then the earth children asked many questions which the strange prince tried patiently to explain.

"Now," said the strange prince, "choose whichever eggs you will. By and bye they will hatch. From them will come birds such as you never before have seen. From each pair of eggs will come a pair of birds."

"You who choose the blue eggs shall follow the birds which come from the blue shells. You and your children and your children's children shall dwell in the land in which these birds nest.

"You who choose the red-brown eggs shall follow the birds which come from the red-brown shells. You and your children and your children's children shall dwell in the land in which these birds nest!"

"But which shall we choose?" cried the eager earth children.

"Nay," said the strange prince, "that I may not tell. But this much you may know:

"From one pair of eggs shall come forth beautiful birds. Their feathers shall be coloured, like the leaves and fruits of summer. They shall nest in the land of everlasting summer-time and plenty.

"They who choose those eggs will follow these birds to the beautiful country of summer-time. The fruits will ripen daily and fall into the hands of the lucky earth children. Their food will come to them without labour and they shall know neither hunger nor cold."

"And what will happen if we choose the other pair of eggs?"

The strange prince shook his head half sadly and smiled on the earth children.

"From the other pair of eggs," he said, "shall come forth birds with black feathers, piebald with white. This pair will nest in a land where you may gain food by labour only.

"Those who follow this pair of birds shall struggle summer and winter. By long days of toil they shall provide food. By long nights of watchfulness they shall keep warmth within their homes."

Then the strange prince ceased speaking. The earth children looked at each other and forgot to speak. Each looked into the eyes of the other and asked a question. Each wished to follow the birds which would lead them to the land of everlasting summer-time and idleness and plenty.

"Which eggs do you choose?" asked the strange prince.

"The blue—the blue!" cried the earth children. Then those who were strongest and quickest pushed forward.

They fought for the blue eggs, and getting them hurried away with gladness.

They buried the blue eggs in the soft loam on the sunny side of the cliff. They sat down to watch when the young birds should hatch.

Now there remained those weaker earth children who had been pushed aside. For them there was no choice. The strange prince gave into their hand the red-brown eggs.

The red-brown eggs were placed amid the soft green grasses by the riverside. The earth children into whose care they were given sat also by the riverside and waited.

Sometimes, as they waited for the hatching of the red-brown eggs, they looked up to the place in the cliff where the stronger ones watched the beautiful blue eggs.

Then the weaker ones sighed and turned to the ugly red-brown eggs amid the grasses.

By and bye, as those on the cliff waited, they heard faint tappings inside the blue shells.

"Ah," they said, "the birds will come soon now. They will lead us to the land of summer-time."

When at length the shells burst and the young birds came out, they looked much as other birds look. They had large mouths and panting sides and tiny featherless bodies. Soon the pin-feathers appeared.

"See!" cried the watchers, "now the beautiful plumage is starting!"

And those by the riverside, hearing the cry, looked up, and looking up they sighed. The red-brown eggs also were cracking open and the young birds coming out of the shells. Soon the earth children must follow their bird leaders. They fed and tended the young birds for still a few days.

Then one morning there were sighs and discontent on the cliff. For the birds which came from the blue shells were feathered and ready for flight. Their colours were black and white! So also is all the bare earth and the new-fallen snow!

It was a pair of ravens, which the stronger earth children followed to the country where winter follows summer and where men work for food. As the earth children laboured, the ravens taunted them with hoarse, laughing cries.

Now those other earth children who watched the red-brown eggs stood up by the riverside and smiled.

From the red-brown eggs had come birds of gorgeous plumage. On the breath of a sweet-scented breeze they were wafted far to southward—to the summer land. And those earth children who followed the beautiful birds still live easily in the land of everlasting summer-time.

ALL ABOUT THE CHICKEN-HAWK

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS

Voice—sharp, harsh, discordant cries—queer "whistling" noises.

Upper parts brownish black mixed with white—throat and under tail coverts white—other under parts having darker markings.

Bill—short, curved, and very sharp.

Claws—strong, curved, and very sharp,—middle toe longest.

Wings—long and pointed—made for rapid flight and long journeys.

Female larger than male.

Food—other smaller birds of the air—small ducks and chickens—occasionally larger insects, snakes, etc.

Nest in the fork of a tree—made of crooked sticks and lined with leaves, bark, etc.

Eggs—two to four in number, bluish white, thickly speckled with brown.

Iris in young bird's eyes yellow—turning to reddish brown with maturity.

ALL ABOUT THE RAVEN

SUGGESTIONS FOR FIELD LESSONS

Three times the size of robin.

Does not migrate, but is usually resident in the place where it can best provide for itself and family.

Is glossy black in colour, with gleams of purple and green above—duller underneath.

Flies in wide circles high above the tree-tops, and utters a weird, uncanny cry, which has given it the name of being a bird of ill omen, and to many people the cry of the raven is deemed a sign of approaching evil.

Nest very compactly built of sticks and grasses and lined with wool from sheep's back. Nest is used year after year, being often relined and made habitable.

Young when first hatched are black and white—they however change to entire black in a very short time.

Food of the raven is varied, apparently anything edible which comes in his way—grain, seeds, grubs, worms, field-mice, fruit, are found on his menu.