The Song of the Cardinal | Page 7

He was so wet when his bath was
finished he scarcely could reach a bush to dry and dress his plumage.
Once again in perfect feather, he remembered the bird of the water, and
returned to the willow. There in the depths of the shining river the
Cardinal discovered himself, and his heart swelled big with just pride.
Was that broad full breast his? Where had he seen any other cardinal
with a crest so high it waved in the wind? How big and black his eyes
were, and his beard was almost as long and crisp as his father's. He
spread his wings and gloated on their sweep, and twisted and flirted his
tail. He went over his toilet again and dressed every feather on him. He
scoured the back of his neck with the butt of his wings, and tucking his
head under them, slowly drew it out time after time to polish his crest.
He turned and twisted. He rocked and paraded, and every glimpse he
caught of his size and beauty filled him with pride. He strutted like a
peacock and chattered like a jay.
When he could find no further points to admire, something else caught
his attention. When he "chipped" there was an answering "Chip" across
the river; certainly there was no cardinal there, so it must be that he was
hearing his own voice as well as seeing himself. Selecting a
conspicuous perch he sent an incisive "Chip!" across the water, and in
kind it came back to him. Then he "chipped" softly and tenderly, as he
did in the Limberlost to a favourite little sister who often came and
perched beside him in the maple where he slept, and softly and tenderly
came the answer. Then the Cardinal understood. "Wheat! Wheat!
Wheat!" He whistled it high, and he whistled it low. "Cheer! Cheer!
Cheer!" He whistled it tenderly and sharply and imperiously. "Here!
Here! Here!" At this ringing command, every bird, as far as the river
carried his voice, came to investigate and remained to admire. Over and
over he rang every change he could invent. He made a gallant effort at
warbling and trilling, and then, with the gladdest heart he ever had

known, he burst into ringing song: "Good Cheer! Good Cheer! Good
Cheer!"
As evening came on he grew restless and uneasy, so he slowly winged
his way back to the Limberlost; but that day forever spoiled him for a
swamp bird. In the night he restlessly ruffled his feathers, and sniffed
for the breeze of the meadows. He tasted the corn and the clear water
again. He admired his image in the river, and longed for the sound of
his voice, until he began murmuring, "Wheat! Wheat! Wheat!" in his
sleep. In the earliest dawn a robin awoke him singing, "Cheer up!
Cheer up!" and he answered with a sleepy "Cheer! Cheer! Cheer!"
Later the robin sang again with exquisite softness and tenderness:
"Cheer up, Dearie! Cheer up, Dearie! Cheer up! Cheer up! Cheer!" The
Cardinal, now fully awakened, shouted lustily, "Good Cheer! Good
Cheer!" and after that it was only a short time until he was on his way
toward the shining river. It was better than before, and every following
day found him feasting in the corn field and bathing in the shining
water; but he always returned to his family at nightfall.
When black frosts began to strip the Limberlost, and food was almost
reduced to dry seed, there came a day on which the king marshalled his
followers and gave the magic signal. With dusk he led them southward,
mile after mile, until their breath fell short, and their wings ached with
unaccustomed flight; but because of the trips to the river, the Cardinal
was stronger than the others, and he easily kept abreast of the king. In
the early morning, even before the robins were awake, the king settled
in the Everglades. But the Cardinal had lost all liking for swamp life, so
he stubbornly set out alone, and in a short time he had found another
river. It was not quite so delightful as the shining river; but still it was
beautiful, and on its gently sloping bank was an orange orchard. There
the Cardinal rested, and found a winter home after his heart's desire.
The following morning, a golden-haired little girl and an old man with
snowy locks came hand in hand through the orchard. The child saw the
redbird and immediately claimed him, and that same day the edict went
forth that a very dreadful time was in store for any one who harmed or
even frightened the Cardinal. So in security began a series of days that

were pure delight. The orchard was alive with insects, attracted by the
heavy odours,