CHAPTER XV: Blacky Does A Little Looking About
Do not take the word of others
That things are or are not so
When there is a chance that you may
Find out for yourself and know.
—Blacky the Crow.
Blacky the Crow is a shrewd fellow. He is one of the smartest and shrewdest of all the little people in the Green Forest and on the Green Meadows. Everybody knows it. And because of this, all his neighbors have a great deal of respect for him, despite his mischievous ways.
Of course, Blacky had noticed that Johnny Chuck had dug his house deeper than usual and had stuffed himself until he was fatter than ever before. He had noticed that Jerry Muskrat was making the walls of his house thicker than in other years, and that Paddy the Beaver was doing the same thing to his house. You know there is very little that escapes the sharp eyes of Blacky the Crow.
He had guessed what these things meant. “They think we are going to have a long, hard, cold winter,” muttered Blacky to himself. “Perhaps they know, but I want to see some signs of it for myself. They may be only guessing. Anybody can do that, and one guess is as good as another.”
Then he found Mr. and Mrs. Quack, the Mallard Ducks, and their children in the pond of Paddy the Beaver and remembered that they never had come down from their home in the Far North as early in the fall as this. Mrs. Quack explained that Jack Frost had already started south, and so they had started earlier to keep well ahead of him.
“Looks as if there may be something in this idea of a long, hard, cold winter,” thought Blacky, “but perhaps the Quacks are only guessing, too. I wouldn't take their word for it any more than I would the word of Johnny Chuck or Jerry Muskrat or Paddy the Beaver. I'll look about a little.”
So after warning the Quacks to remain in the pond of Paddy the Beaver if they would be safe, Blacky bade them good-by and flew away. He headed straight for the Green Meadows and Farmer Brown's cornfield. A little of that yellow corn would make a good breakfast.
When he reached the cornfield, Blacky perched on top of a shock of corn, for it already had been cut and put in shocks in readiness to be carted up to Farmer Brown's barn. For a few minutes he sat there silent and motionless, but all the time his sharp eyes were making sure that no enemy was hiding behind one of those brown shocks. When he was quite certain that things were as safe as they seemed, he picked out a plump ear of corn and began to tear open the husks, so as to get at the yellow grains.
“Seems to me these husks are unusually thick,” muttered Blacky, as he tore at them with his stout bill. “Don't remember ever having seen them as thick as these. Wonder if it just happens to be so on this ear.”
Then, as a sudden thought popped into his black head, he left that ear and went to another. The husks of this were as thick as those on the first. He flew to another shock and found the husks there just the same. He tried a third shock with the same result.
“Huh, they are all alike,” said he. Then he looked thoughtful and for a few minutes sat perfectly still like a black statue. “They are right,” said he at last. “Yes, Sir, they are right.” Of course he meant Johnny Chuck and Jerry Muskrat and Paddy the Beaver and the Quacks. “I don't know how they know it, but they are right; we are going to have a long, hard, cold winter. I know it myself now. I've found a sign. Old Mother Nature has wrapped this corn in extra thick husks, and of course she has done it to protect it. She doesn't do things without a reason. We are going to have a cold winter, or my name isn't Blacky the Crow.”
CHAPTER XVI: Blacky Finds Other Signs
A single fact may fail to prove you either right or wrong;
Confirm it with another and your proof will then be strong.
—Blacky the Crow.
After his discovery that Old Mother Nature had wrapped all the ears of corn in extra thick husks, Blacky had no doubt in his own mind that Johnny Chuck and Jerry Muskrat and Paddy the Beaver and the Quacks were quite right in feeling that the coming winter would be long, hard and cold. But Blacky long ago learned that it isn't wise or wholly safe to depend altogether on one thing.
“Old Mother Nature never does things by halves,” thought Blacky, as he sat on the fence post on the Green Meadows, thinking over his discovery of the thick husks on the corn. “She wouldn't take care to protect the corn that way and not do as much for other things. There must be other signs, if I am smart enough to find them.”
He lifted one black wing and began to set in order the feathers beneath it. Suddenly he made a funny little hop straight up.
“Well, I never!” he exclaimed, as he spread his wings to regain his balance. “I never did!”
“Is that so?” piped a squeaky little voice. “If you say you never did, I suppose you never did, though I want the word of some one else before I will believe it. What is it you never did?”
Blacky looked down. Peeping up at him from the brown grass were two bright little eyes.
“Hello, Danny Meadow Mouse!” exclaimed Blacky. “I haven't seen you for a long time. I've looked for you several times lately.”
“I don't doubt it. I don't doubt it at all,” squeaked Danny. “You'll never see me when you are looking for me. That is, you won't if I can help it. You won't if I see you first.”
Blacky chuckled. He knew what Danny meant. When Blacky goes looking for Danny Meadow Mouse, it usually is in hope of having a Meadow Mouse dinner, and he knew that Danny knew this. “I've had my breakfast,” said Blacky, “and it isn't dinner time yet.”
“What is it you never did?” persisted Danny, in his squeaky voice.
“That was just an exclamation,” explained Blacky. “I made a discovery that surprised me so I exclaimed right out.”
“What was it?” demanded Danny.
“It was that the feathers of my coat are coming in thicker than I ever knew them to before. I hadn't noticed it until I started to set them in order a minute ago.” He buried his bill in the feathers of his breast. “Yes, sir,” said he in a muffled voice, “they are coming in thicker than I ever knew them to before. There is a lot of down around the roots of them. I am going to have the warmest coat I've ever had.”
“Well, don't think you are the only one,” retorted Danny. “My fur never was so thick at this time of year as it is now, and it is the same way with Nanny Meadow Mouse and all our children. I suppose you know what it means.”
“What does it mean?” asked Blacky, just as if he didn't have the least idea, although he had guessed the instant he discovered those extra feathers.
“It means we are going to have a long, hard, cold winter, and Old Mother Nature is preparing us for it,” replied Danny, quite as if he knew all about it. “You'll find that everybody who doesn't go south or sleep all winter has a thicker coat than usual. Hello! There is old Roughleg the Hawk! He has come extra early this year. I think I'll go back to warn Nanny.” Without another word Danny disappeared in the brown grass. Again Blacky chuckled. “More signs,” said he to himself. “More signs. There isn't a doubt that we are going to have a hard winter. I wonder if I can stand it or if I'd better go a little way south, where it will be warmer.”
CHAPTER XVII: Blacky Watches A Queer Performance
This much to me is very clear:
A thing not understood is queer.
—Blacky the Crow.
Blacky the Crow may be right. Again he may not be. If he is right, it will account for a lot of the queer people in the world. They are not understood, and so they are queer. At least, that is what other people say, and never once think that perhaps they are the queer ones for not understanding.
But Blacky isn't like those people who are satisfied not to understand and to think other people and things queer. He does his best to understand. He waits and watches and uses those sharp eyes of his and those quick wits of his until at last usually he does understand.
The day of his discovery of Old Mother Nature's signs that the coming winter would be long, hard and cold, Blacky paid a visit to the Big River. Long ago he discovered that many things are to be seen on or beside the Big River, things not to be seen elsewhere. So there are few clays in which he does not get over there.
As he drew near the Big River, he was very watchful and careful, was Blacky, for this was the season when hunters with terrible guns were abroad, and he had discovered that they were likely to be hiding along the Big River, hoping to shoot Mr. or Mrs. Quack or some of their relatives. So he was very watchful as he drew near the Big River, for he had learned that it was dangerous to pass too near a hunter with a terrible gun. More than once he had been shot at. But he had learned by these experiences. Oh, yes, Blacky had learned. For one thing, he had learned to know a gun when he saw it. For another thing, he had learned just how far away one of these dreadful guns could be and still hurt the one it was pointed at, and to always keep just a little farther away. Also he had learned that a man or boy without a terrible gun is quite harmless, and he had learned that hunters with terrible guns are tricky and sometimes hide from those they seek to kill, so that in the dreadful hunting season it is best to look sharply before approaching any place.
On this afternoon, as he drew near the Big River, he saw a man who seemed to be very busy on the shore of the Big River, at a place where wild rice and rushes grew for some distance out in the water, for just there it was shallow far out from the shore. Blacky looked sharply for a terrible gun. But the man had none with him and therefore was not to be feared. Blacky boldly drew near until he was able to see what the man was doing.
Then Blacky's eyes stretched their widest and he almost cawed right out with surprise. The man was taking yellow corn from a bag, a handful at a time, and throwing it out in the water. Yes, Sir, that is what he was doing, scattering nice yellow corn among the rushes and wild rice in the water!
“That's a queer performance,” muttered Blacky, as he watched. “What is he throwing perfectly good corn out in the water for? He isn't planting it, for this isn't the planting season. Besides, it wouldn't grow in the water, anyway. It is a shame to waste nice corn like that. What is he doing it for?”
Blacky flew over to a tree some distance away and alighted in the top of it to watch the queer performance. You know Blacky has very keen eyes and he can see a long distance. For a while the man continued to scatter corn and Blacky continued to wonder what he was doing it for. At last the man went away in a boat. Blacky watched him until he was out of sight. Then he spread his wings and slowly flew back and forth just above the rushes and wild rice, at the place where the man had been scattering the corn. He could see some of the yellow grains on the bottom. Presently he saw something else. “Ha!” exclaimed Blacky.