the song of the cardinal-第1章

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The　Song　of　the　Cardinal



by　Gene　Stratton…Porter








IN　LOVING　TRIBUTE　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　

TO　THE　MEMORY　OF　MY　FATHER　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　



MARK　STRATTON





〃For　him　every　work　of　God　manifested　a　new　and　heretofore

unappreciated　loveliness。〃　









Chapter　1





〃Good　cheer！　Good　cheer！〃　exulted　the　Cardinal





He　darted　through　the　orange　orchard　searching　for　slugs　for　his

breakfast；　and　between　whiles　he　rocked　on　the　branches　and　rang

over　his　message　of　encouragement　to　men。　　The　song　of　the

Cardinal　was　overflowing　with　joy；　for　this　was　his　holiday；　his

playtime。　　The　southern　world　was　filled　with　brilliant　sunshine；

gaudy　flowers；　an　abundance　of　fruit；　myriads　of　insects；　and

never　a　thing　to　do　except　to　bathe；　feast；　and　be　happy。　　No

wonder　his　song　was　a　prophecy　of　good　cheer　for　the　future；　for

happiness　made　up　the　whole　of　his　past。



The　Cardinal　was　only　a　yearling；　yet　his　crest　flared　high；　his

beard　was　crisp　and　black；　and　he　was　a　very　prodigy　in　size　and

colouring。　　Fathers　of　his　family　that　had　accomplished　many

migrations　appeared　small　beside　him；　and　coats　that　had　been

shed　season　after　season　seemed　dull　compared　with　his。　　It　was

as　if　a　pulsing　heart　of　flame　passed　by　when　he　came　winging

through　the　orchard。



Last　season　the　Cardinal　had　pipped　his　shell；　away　to　the　north；

in　that　paradise　of　the　birds；　the　Limberlost。　　There　thousands

of　acres　of　black　marsh…muck　stretch　under　summers'　sun　and

winters'　snows。　　There　are　darksome　pools　of　murky　water；　bits　of

swale；　and　high　morass。　　Giants　of　the　forest　reach　skyward；　or；

coated　with　velvet　slime；　lie　decaying　in　sun…flecked　pools；

while　the　underbrush　is　almost　impenetrable。



The　swamp　resembles　a　big　dining…table　for　the　birds。　　Wild

grape…vines　clamber　to　the　tops　of　the　highest　trees；　spreading

umbrella…wise　over　the　branches；　and　their　festooned　floating

trailers　wave　as　silken　fringe　in　the　play　of　the　wind。　　The

birds　loll　in　the　shade；　peel　bark；　gather　dried　curlers　for　nest

material；　and　feast　on　the　pungent　fruit。　　They　chatter　in　swarms

over　the　wild…cherry　trees；　and　overload　their　crops　with　red

haws；　wild　plums；　papaws；　blackberries　and　mandrake。　　The　alders

around　the　edge　draw　flocks　in　search　of　berries；　and　the　marsh

grasses　and　weeds　are　weighted　with　seed　hunters。　　The　muck　is

alive　with　worms；　and　the　whole　swamp　ablaze　with　flowers；　whose

colours　and　perfumes　attract　myriads　of　insects　and　butterflies。



Wild　creepers　flaunt　their　red　and　gold　from　the　treetops；　and

the　bumblebees　and　humming…birds　make　common　cause　in　rifling　the

honey…laden　trumpets。　　The　air　around　the　wild…plum　and　redhaw

trees　is　vibrant　with　the　beating　wings　of　millions　of　wild　bees；

and　the　bee…birds　feast　to　gluttony。　　The　fetid　odours　of　the

swamp　draw　insects　in　swarms；　and　fly…catchers　tumble　and　twist

in　air　in　pursuit　of　them。



Every　hollow　tree　homes　its　colony　of　bats。　　Snakes　sun　on　the

bushes。　　The　water　folk　leave　trails　of　shining　ripples　in　their

wake　as　they　cross　the　lagoons。　　Turtles　waddle　clumsily　from　the

logs。　　Frogs　take　graceful　leaps　from　pool　to　pool。　　Everything

native　to　that　section　of　the　country…underground；　creeping；　or

a…wingcan　be　found　in　the　Limberlost；　but　above　all　the　birds。



Dainty　green　warblers　nest　in　its　tree…tops；　and　red…eyed　vireos

choose　a　location　below。　　It　is　the　home　of　bell…birds；　finches；

and　thrushes。　　There　are　flocks　of　blackbirds；　grackles；　and

crows。　　Jays　and　catbirds　quarrel　constantly；　and　marsh…wrens

keep　up　never…ending　chatter。　　Orioles　swing　their　pendent　purses

from　the　branches；　and　with　the　tanagers　picnic　on　mulberries　and

insects。　　In　the　evening；　night…hawks　dart　on　silent　wing；

whippoorwills　set　up　a　plaintive　cry　that　they　continue　far　into

the　night；　and　owls　revel　in　moonlight　and　rich　hunting。　　At

dawn；　robins　wake　the　echoes　of　each　new　day　with　the　admonition；

〃Cheer　up！　Cheer　up！〃　and　a　little　later　big　black　vultures　go

wheeling　through　cloudland　or　hang　there；　like　frozen　splashes；

searching　the　Limberlost　and　the　surrounding　country　for　food。　

The　boom　of　the　bittern　resounds　all　day；　and　above　it　the

rasping　scream　of　the　blue　heron；　as　he　strikes　terror　to　the

hearts　of　frogdom；　while　the　occasional　cries　of　a　lost　loon；

strayed　from　its　flock　in　northern　migration；　fill　the　swamp　with

sounds　of　wailing。



Flashing　through　the　tree…tops　of　the　Limberlost　there　are　birds

whose　colour　is　more　brilliant　than　that　of　the　gaudiest　flower

lifting　its　face　to　light　and　air。　　The　lilies　of　the　mire　are

not　so　white　as　the　white　herons　that　fish　among　them。　　The

ripest　spray　of　goldenrod　is　not　so　highly　coloured　as　the

burnished　gold　on　the　breast　of　the　oriole　that　rocks　on　it。　　The

jays　are　bluer　than　the　calamus　bed　they　wrangle　above　with

throaty　chatter。　　The　finches　are　a　finer　purple　than　the

ironwort。　　For　every　clump　of　foxfire　flaming　in　the　Limberlost；

there　is　a　cardinal　glowing　redder　on　a　bush　above　it。　　These　may

not　be　more　numerous　than　other　birds；　but　their　brilliant

colouring　and　the　fearless　disposition　make　them　seem　so。



The　Cardinal　was　hatched　in　a　thicket　of　sweetbrier　and

blackberry。　　His　father　was　a　tough　old　widower　of　many

experiences　and　variable　temper。　　He　was　the　biggest；　most

aggressive　redbird　in　the　Limberlost；　and　easily　reigned　king　of

his　kind。　　Catbirds；　king…birds；　and　shrikes　gave　him　a　wide

berth；　and　not　even　the　ever…quarrelsome　jays　plucked　up　enough

courage　to　antagonize　him。　　A　few　days　after　his　latest

bereavement；　he　saw　a　fine；　plump　young　female；　and　she　so　filled

his　eye　that　he　gave　her　no　rest　until　she　permitted　his

caresses；　and　carried　the　first　twig　to　the　wild　rose。　　She　was

very　proud　to　mate　with　the　king　of　the　Limberlost；　and　if　deep

in　her　heart　she　felt　transient　fears　of　her　lordly　master；　she

gave　no　sign；　for　she　was　a　bird　of　goodly　proportion　and　fine

feather　herself。



She　chose　her　location　with　the　eye　of　an　artist；　and　the

judgment　of　a　nest　builder　of　more　experience。　　It　would　be

difficult　for　snakes　and　squirrels　to　penetrate　that　briery

thicket。　　The　white　berry　blossoms　scarcely　had　ceased　to　attract

a　swarm　of　insects　before　the　sweets　of　the　roses　recalled　them；

by　the　time　they　had　faded；　luscious　big　berries　ripened　within

reach　and　drew　food　hunters。　　She　built　with　far　more　than

ordinary　care。　　It　was　a　beautiful　nest；　not　nearly　so　carelessly

made　as　those　of　her　kindred　all　through　the　swamp。　　There　was　a

distinct　attempt　at　a　cup　shape；　and　it　really　was　neatly　lined

with　dried　blades　of　sweet　marsh　grass。　　But　it　was　in　the　laying

of　her　first　egg　that　the　queen　cardinal　forever　distinguished

herself。　　She　was　a　fine　healthy　bird；　full　of　love　and　happiness

over　her　first　venture　in　nest…building；　and　she　so　far　surpassed

herself　on　that　occasion　she　had　difficulty　in　convincing　any　one

that　she　was　responsible　for　the　result。



Indeed；　she　was　compelled　to　lift　beak　and　wing　against　her　mate

in　defense　of　this　egg；　for　it　was　so　unusually　large　that　he

could　not　be　persuaded　short　of　force　that　some　sneak　of　the

feathered　tribe　had　not　slipped　in　and　deposited　it　in　her

absence。　　The　king　felt　sure　there　was　something　wrong　with　the

egg；　and　wanted　to　roll　it　from　the　nest；　but　the　queen　knew　her

own；　and　stoutly　battled　for　its　protection。　　She　further

increased　their　prospects　by　laying　three　others。　　After　that　the

king　made　up　his　mind　that　she　was　a　most　remarkable　bird；　and

went　away　pleasure…seeking；　but　the　queen　settled　to　brooding；　a

picture　of　joyous　faith　and　contentment。



Through　all　the　long　days；　when　the　heat　became　intense；　and　the

king　was　none　too　thoughtful　of　her　appetite　or　comfort；　she

nestled　those　four　eggs　against　her　breast　and　patiently　waited。

The　big　egg　was　her　treasure。　　She　gave　it　constant　care。