The Cockatoos Story | Page 5

we proceeded on our journey. We must have
travelled miles, and we were beginning to despair of ever seeing the
flock again, when we heard a great chatter chatter, and in a few minutes
we came in sight of a great number of birds of different colours, in
earnest conversation.
[Illustration: DANGEROUS COMPANY.
Page 29.]
"'Stop, my boy,' said my companion; 'we had better not show ourselves
for a little. They may be friends; but birds though they are, if they see
anything strange in our appearance, they will fall upon us, and may
peck out our feathers, if not our very eyes.'"
"After waiting for a little," continued the cockatoo, "and after listening
very hard, my companion explained to me she thought we might
venture to join the group; for if they weren't cockatoos, they were our
cousins the parrots; and in a minute more she spread out her wings, and
alighted in the midst of them. They were somewhat startled at first; but
on her explaining why she was there, they received her very kindly; and
she then called out to me to approach, for I had waited in a bush out of
sight, feeling a little shy and nervous. They were greatly delighted with
my appearance, and I fear they quite turned my head by their praises. I
know I gave myself airs, and strutted about in a manner that would
have vexed my poor mother, could she but have seen me. My
companion over and over again reminded me to beware of conceit,
saying that even in a cockatoo it was a dangerous thing to carry about

with one; and that though our cousins were pleased with me at present,
they would tire of praising me by-and-by, if they saw how foolish it
made me. But I was only a year old at that time, and had always been a
little headstrong and difficult to manage.
"As my old friend had said," continued the cockatoo, "my newly-found
cousins were not long in finding out my bad qualities, and they were
almost harder upon me than my own brothers had been; which caused
my temper to give way again, and from being a very frank, obliging
bird, I became quite a cross, ill-natured one. One day I had retired to
the woods, and was sitting sulking by myself in a bush, when the old
cockatoo came and perched herself on the branch above me. For some
minutes she sat looking at me without uttering a sound; but every now
and then she would shake her head, or raise up her crest in rather a
fierce manner. At last I couldn't stand it any longer, and I cried out in a
very angry tone of voice, 'Why, what do you mean by looking at me
like that? I would rather not be disturbed.' And I gave a very ugly and
angry screech.
"'Cockatoo,' said she, 'I am grieved to the heart by your behaviour.
Take my advice, sir, and mend your ways, else I fear something bad
will come of it.'
"'I will not be interfered with,' I said; 'and I don't care if you never
speak to me again;' and I screeched louder and uglier than before.
[Illustration: UNWELCOME ADVICE.
Page 36.]
"I must say she was very good to me, though I couldn't or wouldn't see
it at the time; and seeing that I was determined to be sulky and
ill-natured, she left me. Two or three days after, a green parrot, that my
friend had warned me against, came and sat in a bush near me. He kept
chattering away to himself,--speaking about the hard way he was used
by the other parrots, and threatening to fly away and see them no more.
Now, I had noticed they were rather severe upon him, but I also knew
he was not a well-behaved bird by any means; but in my present state

of mind I couldn't help pitying him.
"Creeping along the branch, I ventured to inquire what was the matter,
when he poured into my ears a perfect shower of complaints against his
brothers and sisters, friends and companions, and even against his
parents. Two or three times I tried to get in a word of inquiry as to
whether some of his trouble had not been brought on by his own
conduct; for at that moment I remembered how gently my mother used
to speak to me when I used to rage against all the cockatoos in my
happy home by the bank of the river. However, it was useless to
interfere with him, for the mere mention of the idea made his rage
something fearful to witness. The sight of him called to mind, too, what
my mother used to say to us when we