Verotchka's Tales Part 10

"Yes, one can think of many birds that live, no one knows why. For instance, the starling; it comes like a mad thing no one knows whence, stays through the summer, and flies away again. There are also the swallows, the bluebirds and nightingales, but one can't really count all this rubbish. There isn't a single really desirable bird. Why, just as soon as there is a cold breeze, all of them seem to fly away, the Lord knows where."

In reality, the Crow and the Canary did not understand each other. The Canary could not understand a life of freedom; the Crow could not understand a life of captivity.

"Aunty, has no one ever thrown you a bit of seed," wondered the Canary, "not a single grain?"

"How foolish you are to talk of seeds, when I have to dodge sticks and stones. People are very cruel."

With this, the Canary could never agree, because people had always been kind to her. She thought that the Crow imagined these things, but the Canary was soon to see the cruelty of people. Once, perched on a fence, she heard a heavy stone whizz over her very head. Some school boys walking past the fence saw the Crow and couldn't resist throwing a stone at her.

"Now, have you seen for yourself?" asked the Crow, climbing upon the roof. "People are always like that."

"Perhaps you have done something to annoy them, Aunty."

"Nothing at all. They are just cruel and all of them hate me."

The Canary felt very sorry for the poor Crow whom no one loved. It must be very hard to live under such circ.u.mstances.

On the whole, there were many enemies. For instance, Vaska, with his oily eyes, watching the birds and always feigning sleep. The Canary saw with her own eyes how he caught a young inexperienced sparrow; one could only see the feathers flying, and hear the bones crackling.

Horrible! Horrible! Then the hawks, too; very fine to watch them as they sail up into the air, but suddenly you see them, like a heavy stone dropping to the ground, and before you know it, a chick is in their claws.

All this the Canary saw. The Crow, however, was not afraid of either cats or hawks. She often had a notion to have a taste of a young bird herself. At first, the Canary could not believe this, but she really did see this with her own eyes. A flock of sparrows were chasing the Crow, chattering and screaming.

"Let her go! Let her go!" screamed the sparrows, beside themselves, flying over the Crow's nest in a frenzy. "This is awful! This is real robbery!"

The Crow hid deep in her nest and the Canary saw with horror a bleeding sparrow, dead.

"Aunty, what are you doing?"

"Keep still!" said the Crow.

Her eyes were horrible. They seemed to burn. The Canary had to shut her own eyes for fear she would see the Crow gobbling up the poor little victim.

"Some day she may even eat me," thought the Canary.

Having satisfied her hunger, the Crow grew kinder and kinder. She cleaned her bill, perched comfortably and fell into a sweet slumber.

The Canary noticed that the Crow was very greedy and not very particular as to what she ate.

Sometimes she would carry a piece of bread, a bit of decayed meat, or some leavings found in a dump hole. The dump hole the Crow liked best, but the Canary could never understand the pleasure of digging in such places.

In fact, it was hard to blame the Crow. She alone ate in one day food enough for twenty canaries. The Crow had only one care--food. Perched on some roof, she was always on the lookout for food.

When the Crow was too lazy to search for food, she would resort to slyness. If she saw a flock of sparrows tearing at something, she would fly right over to them, pretending she was just pa.s.sing by, cawing with her whole might, "Caw! Caw! I'm busy! I'm busy!"

She would then swoop down, grab the booty, and that was the end of it.

"But it isn't a bit nice to take food away from others," once remarked the indignant Canary.

"Isn't it? But what if I am hungry?"

"Others are hungry, too," said the Canary.

"Well, let them look out for themselves. It is easy enough for you, the pets, cuddled in cages. We have to get our own food. You and the sparrows--how much do you need? A few grains and you are satisfied for the whole day."

III

Summer pa.s.sed unnoticed. The sun seemed to grow colder, the day shorter. Rains began to fall. A cold wind blew. The Canary felt herself a most unfortunate bird, especially when it rained. But the Crow did not seem to mind it.

"What if it does rain? It will stop," said the Crow.

"But it is so cold, too cold, Aunty," said the Canary.

It was especially hard at night. The little wet Canary would shiver with cold and the Crow would scold at her.

"Oh, you baby! What will you do when the real frost comes and the snow falls?"

The Crow was puzzled. "What sort of bird is this that is afraid of rain, wind and cold?" And she began to doubt once more whether the Canary was a real bird, after all. "Surely she must be pretending."

"Truly, Aunty, I am a real bird," the Canary would a.s.sert with tears in her eyes, "even if I do feel cold sometimes."

"Look out, now! It always seems to me that you are only pretending to be a bird," said the Crow.

"Honestly, Aunty, I'm not pretending."

Sometimes the Canary would try to think about her future. Perhaps it would have been better to have stayed in the cage, after all. There it was warm and one always had plenty to eat.

Several times she flew up to the window, where her old cage hung. Two new canaries looked out at her and envied her.

"Oh, how cold it is!" pitifully piped the freezing Canary. "How I would like to be in there with you."

One morning the Canary looked out of the Crow's nest. She was astonished at the dreary sight. Over night, the ground had been covered with the first snow. Everything was white, but, saddest of all, the snow covered all the grains on which the Canary fed. There remained only the mountain ash berry, but she couldn't possibly eat that! It was too sour! As for the Crow, she ate that, saying, "Very fine!"

After starving two whole days, the Canary was in despair.

"What is going to happen to me? I will die of hunger," thought the Canary.

The next day the Canary sat wondering when suddenly she saw coming into the garden the very same boys who had thrown stones at the Crow. They spread a net on the ground and covered it with very tasty bird seed then went away.

"These boys aren't so bad," said the happy Canary, looking at the seeds. "Look, Aunty, the boys have brought me some food."

"Very fine food, I must say," croaked the Crow. "Don't you dare stick your bill in there! Do you hear me! If you try to get that seed, you will be caught in the net."

"And what will happen then?" asked the Canary.

"Why, they will put you into a cage again," said the Crow.

The Canary grew thoughtful. She wanted food, but she did not want a cage. Of course, it was cold and at times there was little to eat.

Still, life in freedom was better, especially when it did not rain. For several days the Canary was strong. But hunger was stronger. Finally she just had to yield to her longing for food. She was caught in the net.