The Song of the Cardinal | Page 6

borders, caught the breeze from the
upland; and the vision of broad fields stretching toward the north so
enticed him that he spread his wings, and following the line of trees and
fences as much as possible, he made his first journey from home. That
day was so delightful it decided his fortunes. It would seem that the
swamp, so appreciated by his kindred, should have been sufficient for
the Cardinal, but it was not. With every mile he winged his flight, came
a greater sense of power and strength, and a keener love for the broad
sweep of field and forest. His heart bounded with the zest of rocking on
the wind, racing through the sunshine, and sailing over the endless
panorama of waving corn fields, and woodlands.
The heat and closeness of the Limberlost seemed a prison well escaped,
as on and on he flew in straight untiring flight. Crossing a field of
half-ripened corn that sloped to the river, the Cardinal saw many birds
feeding there, so he alighted on a tall tree to watch them. Soon he
decided that he would like to try this new food. He found a place where
a crow had left an ear nicely laid open, and clinging to the husk, as he
saw the others do, he stretched to his full height and drove his strong
sharp beak into the creamy grain. After the stifling swamp hunting,
after the long exciting flight, to rock on this swaying corn and drink the
rich milk of the grain, was to the Cardinal his first taste of nectar and
ambrosia. He lifted his head when he came to the golden kernel, and
chipping it in tiny specks, he tasted and approved with all the delight of
an epicure in a delicious new dish.
Perhaps there were other treats in the next field. He decided to fly even
farther. But he had gone only a short distance when he changed his
course and turned to the South, for below him was a long, shining,
creeping thing, fringed with willows, while towering above them were

giant sycamore, maple, tulip, and elm trees that caught and rocked with
the wind; and the Cardinal did not know what it was. Filled with
wonder he dropped lower and lower. Birds were everywhere, many
flying over and dipping into it; but its clear creeping silver was a
mystery to the Cardinal.
The beautiful river of poetry and song that the Indians first discovered,
and later with the French, named Ouabache; the winding shining river
that Logan and Me-shin-go-me-sia loved; the only river that could
tempt Wa-ca-co-nah from the Salamonie and Mississinewa; the river
beneath whose silver sycamores and giant maples Chief Godfrey
pitched his campfires, was never more beautiful than on that perfect
autumn day.
With his feathers pressed closely, the Cardinal alighted on a willow,
and leaned to look, quivering with excitement and uttering explosive
"chips"; for there he was, face to face with a big redbird that appeared
neither peaceful nor timid. He uttered an impudent "Chip" of challenge,
which, as it left his beak, was flung back to him. The Cardinal flared
his crest and half lifted his wings, stiffening them at the butt; the bird
he was facing did the same. In his surprise he arose to his full height
with a dexterous little side step, and the other bird straightened and
side-stepped exactly with him. This was too insulting for the Cardinal.
Straining every muscle, he made a dash at the impudent stranger.
He struck the water with such force that it splashed above the willows,
and a kingfisher, stationed on a stump opposite him, watching the
shoals for minnows, saw it. He spread his beak and rolled forth rattling
laughter, until his voice reechoed from point to point down the river.
The Cardinal scarcely knew how he got out, but he had learned a new
lesson. That beautiful, shining, creeping thing was water; not thick,
tepid, black marsh water, but pure, cool, silver water. He shook his
plumage, feeling a degree redder from shame, but he would not be
laughed into leaving. He found it too delightful. In a short time he
ventured down and took a sip, and it was the first real drink of his life.
Oh, but it was good!
When thirst from the heat and his long flight was quenched, he

ventured in for a bath, and that was a new and delightful experience.
How he splashed and splashed, and sent the silver drops flying! How
he ducked and soaked and cooled in that rippling water, in which he
might remain as long as he pleased and splash his fill; for he could see
the bottom for a long distance all around, and easily could avoid
anything attempting to harm him.