The Kingfisheror Halcyon Bird With The Water Watchman
"Please, Jack," begged Phyllis.
"Girls always talk," replied Jack.
"I will not say a word to you--indeed I will not."
"Well, if you spoil my fishing--" began Jack.
"And I'll pick thimbleberries for our lunch," said Phyllis, eagerly.
So it happened that a small girl in a great sunbonnet followed a small
boy with a still larger straw hat and a fishing-
the back gate and down the lane.
True to her promise, Phyllis said nothing, but trudged along behind
Jack with wide open, watchful brown eyes.
By and bye the children came to a pond of shining, clear water. How
still everything seemed, how brightly the sun shone!
"Now if you talk you'll scare the fish," said Jack, with an air of
great importance.
"I will not talk," Phyllis whispered back, shutting her lips very
tightly and sitting down beside her brother with a little sigh.
Jack threw his line--Phyllis watched with awe. They sat for a moment
waiting for a "bite."
Then Jack jerked the line up sharply, not so much because he thought he
had caught something, as because he hoped he would catch something.
"I don't believe there are any fish here," he grumbled at last.
But Phyllis's bright eyes had caught sight of something and she forgot
all about the fishing and her resolve not to speak.
"Look!" she cried, pointing to a fallen tree-trunk which hung over the
water.
On a branch sat a bird. He was considerably larger than a robin.
On the top of his head was a tall crest, which reached to the nape of
his neck.
His back and the entire upper part of his body was blue. His wings and
short tail bore spots and bars of white.
The lower part of his body was white and across his breast ran two
bands of blue.
"His bill is longer than his head!" laughed Phyllis. "What a funny big
head and what funny little feet! Who is he, Jackie?"
"A kingfisher!" Jack replied.
"What is he doing?" asked Phyllis.
"Fishing," said Jack, shortly.
In a moment Jack spoke again.
"There must be fish here if Mr. Kingfisher is on the lookout. He is a
famous old fisherman. He could not live without fish to eat. Did you
notice the white spot above each eye?"
Encouraged by the sight of the other fisherman, Jack again cast his
line and waited for a bite.
Phyllis watched the bird. Suddenly it seemed to drop from the branch.
It dived into the water.
There was a great flutter and splash--a struggle. Then the bird in the
blue and white uniform perched again on the old branch.
The children watched eagerly.
In the bird's strong bill was a scaly, glittering fish. It wriggled
and flopped helplessly, but could not escape.
The bird held the fish firmly in its strong grasp, raised his head and
struck the fish three or four sharp knocks against the branch. Then
the fish wriggled no longer.
"He can never swallow that big fellow!" cried Jack, forgetting his own
fishing. "I have seen kingfishers swallow minnows alive and whole, but
that fish is too large for him to manage!"
The bird, however, seemed to think that he could "manage" it. He
started to swallow the fish. When it was half-way down his throat it
stuck.
With much sputtering and gagging the bird brought the fish up again.
But he must have his dinner, and not in the least discouraged, tried
again.
He gagged and writhed. The scales and fins stuck in his throat. Up
came the fish again.
Four--five times he struggled to swallow the fish. Five times he
failed to succeed. Five times the fish-scales glittered again in the
sunlight. Such strange wrigglings and twistings the bird made.
"The poor fellow is having an unhappy time with his lunch," laughed the
children.
At the sixth effort the fish was safely landed in the bird's stomach.
With a flash of blue wings he circled through the air. He gave a noisy
rattling cry as he alighted on a branch nearer to the children.
Again the bird watched the water intently. Again he dived like a
flash. Again he bore a fish to the surface and killed it by striking
it against the tree.
But this time the kingfisher did not swallow the fish. He rose with it
in his bill and flew gracefully away.
The children watched for some time, but the strange blue bird did not
return. Then Jack turned again to his fishing.
"I thought you were to furnish the thimbleberries for lunch," he said.
"So I shall," Phyllis replied, snatching up her basket and starting off
in the direction of some bushes which she could see.
So Jack was left to his fishing and Phyllis went berrying.
Sure enough the bushes proved to be loaded with beautiful ripe berries.
Soon the little fingers were stained quite purple and the little basket
was half filled with berries.
As she started to return to her brother, Phyllis passed along the foot
of a high bank. She was singing softly to herself when she heard the
rattling cry of the kingfisher quite near.
He gracefully swung into sight on wide-spread wings. He bore another
fish in his strong bill.
When he saw Phyllis he stopped short and held himself perfectly still
in the air while he looked at her.
At length, deciding that she was harmless, he circled past the little
girl and entered a small hole on the face of the bank.
"Why!" said Phyllis. "I wonder why he has gone in there. I shall wait
for him to return."
So Phyllis waited until the bird came out. Then she held out her
basket of berries.
"Will you have some of my berries?" she said. "I'm sure that your
throat must be sore from the scratching of those fish-scales. You had
to try so many times before you got it down. Tell me, did this last
fish also stick in your throat?"
The kingfisher "chuckled" deep down in his throat.
"I do not eat berries," he said. "I usually eat fish. I sometimes eat
large insects or shrimps, but I love to fish."
"So does my brother," said Phyllis, politely, glancing at Jack sitting
motionless on a rock in the sunshine.
"Why did you go into that hole to eat?"
The kingfisher chuckled again.
"That is my nest," he said. "My wife is in there. I took the fish to
her. She can fish quite as well as I, but our eggs are just hatching
and she dare not leave them."
"That a bird's nest?" cried Phyllis. "Who made it?"
"Mrs. Kingfisher and I did," was the reply. "We found this fine steep
bank when we came from the south in March.
"I began the nest myself. I held myself still in the air before the
bank just as I did when I first noticed you. Then I drove my beak into
the soft bank with quick plunges. How the clay rattled and rolled and
splashed into the water below!
"It was but a very short time before I had a foothold on the bank.
Mrs. Kingfisher and I worked very quickly. Soon we dug ourselves out
of sight."
"But how do you dig--"
"Oh, just look at my bill, Phyllis. With it I loosen the earth. With
my feet I scratch the dirt out in a perfect shower behind me. Our
tunnel is so narrow that we could not turn around in it."
"How deep is it?" asked the little girl, pushing back her big hat and
peering in.
The kingfisher did not seem to hear her. He just went on with his
story.
"Perhaps a little less than two feet from the outside we made a turn to
the right. After that we were obliged to bring the earth out in our
beaks.
"Two could not work at once. While I worked at the tunnel Mrs.
Kingfisher fished. While she worked, I fished. At last the tunnel was
eight feet long.
"'That is a very safe distance,' said Mrs. Kingfisher to me. 'Let us
dig no more, but make our nest here at the end of the tunnel.'
"We built a wonderful nest," the bird went on, "a fine prickly nest for
our little ones. We did not line it with feathers and moss. We
carefully arranged a pile of fish-bones and scales at the farthest end
of the tunnel. On these bones and scales my wife laid six white eggs.
Already four little baby kingfishers have pecked their way out of the
white shells. The others will be out soon.
"I must be off about my fishing. Mrs. Kingfisher and I will both be
very busy now catching minnows for those blue babies of ours."
With another chuckle and rattle the kingfisher flew away to his fishing
station over the pond.
Phyllis picked up her basket of berries and returned to the spot where
Jack still sat patiently holding his pole.
"Oh, Jack--" Phyllis began.
"Sh-h-h-h!" whispered Jack. "You promised not to talk. You'll scare
the fish away. Girls always talk."
"I'm sorry," said Phyllis. "How many have you now?"
"None--but I've had a nibble several times. I think they'd bite better
if the sun would go under a cloud."
"Let's eat our lunch now," begged Phyllis. "Perhaps there'll be some
clouds by the time we finish."
As they ate Phyllis told her brother about the kingfisher's nest and
babies. When they finished the sky was as blue as ever.
"These are halcyon days," said Jack, looking very wise.
"Wh-a-a-t--?" said Phyllis, wholly puzzled and half frightened at the
new word.
"Well, you see father told me about them the other day when we were
fishing in this same place.
"It seems that long ago when people were not very wise, they believed
all sorts of queer things. They told strange stories about the things
which they did not understand.
"In those days kingfishers were called halcyons. Some said these birds
made nests which floated on the sea.
"As long as these eggs or birdlings were in the nest, the people said,
the sea would remain smooth and the weather fair.
"Ever since then, when we hear any one speak of 'halcyon days,' we know
that they mean pleasant happy days."
"Then," laughed Phyllis, "this has been one of the 'halcyon days' even
though you failed to catch any fish."
Then two tired little people trudged home through the river reeds and
down the lane.
On their way the blue kingfisher flashed by, chuckling harshly deep
down in his throat.
More
-
A Good-night
"Haw-haw! Hoo! hoo!" Phyllis listened again. "Haw-haw! Hoo! hoo! Hoo! Hoo!" "Oh, I see you now!" laughed Phyllis. The owl moved silently as a shadow and perched very near to the little girl. His great round eyes and his yellow bill gl... A Legend Of The Northland
Away, away in the Northland, Where the hours of the day are few, And the nights are so long in winter They cannot sleep them through; Where they harness the swift reindeer To the sledges, when it snows; And the children look... All About The Barn Swallow
Comes north about first or second week in April. Remains until late September or October--builds and travels in flocks or companies--winters in South or Central America. Song--a constant twitter. Head and upper parts except forehead steel blue... All About The Barred Or Hoot Owl
Notes--deep-toned, startling hoot. Heard most frequently at nesting time. Upper parts brown, marked with white--face gray, mottled with black, wings and tail barred with brown, eyes blue black, bill yellow, under parts buff marked with dark... All About The Bobolink Or Ricebird
Male arrives north middle of May.--Female comes some ten or twelve days later--travel generally by night and in flocks.--Flies south from August to October. Song is most musical and sweet, expressing joy and careless happiness--the song of th... All About The Chickadee
Does not go south in winter. Song--two or three clear long whistles and the chirping of his own name, "chickadee." A gay, curious little bird. Black head and throat--sides of head and neck white--breast grayish buff--wings and tail darker sh... All About The Chicken-hawk
Voice--sharp, harsh, discordant cries--queer "whistling" noises. Upper parts brownish black mixed with white--throat and under tail coverts white--other under parts having darker markings. Bill--short, curved, and very sharp. Claws--strong, c... All About The Great Blue Heron Or Blue Crane
Usually resident throughout the year. Lives in marshy, swampy places. Head and throat white, with long black crest.--Very long neck covered with light gray feathers--darker on chest--back, ashy gray--darker wings--a touch of red on bend of wi... All About The Kingfisher
Comes north in early March--remains until December, often throughout the year. Song--harsh, discordant, laughing chuckle or rattle--never musical. Upper parts blue--wings and tail with white markings--lower parts white with two blue bands acros... All About The Meadow Lark
Usually resident--sometimes goes south in late October, returning in April. Song--a very beautiful sweet, clear whistle--heard in the early spring and in the autumn--usually quite silent during brooding season. Female much paler in colour than ... All About The Raven
Three times the size of robin. Does not migrate, but is usually resident in the place where it can best provide for itself and family. Is glossy black in colour, with gleams of purple and green above--duller underneath. Flies in wide circles... All About The Robin
One of the first birds to return in the spring--migrates north early in March--sometimes remains during winter--stays north as late as October or November. Domestic--generally preferring to live near the home of man. Song--though short and alwa... All About The Sea-dove
Goes far north in nesting season. Found in Illinois swamps, and as far north as Greenland. Small bird with entire upper parts almost black--under parts white--wings tipped with white, bill black--feet pale red--toes webbed. Food obtained f... All About The Woodpecker
Comes north in May--often stays all winter--most commonly seen in the fall. Song--shrill, lively call resembling the voice of the tree-frog. Male and female have crimson head and neck--upper parts black with white marking--white band across win... Chilly Little Chickadees
Chilly little chickadees, Sitting in a row, Chilly little chickadees, Buried in the snow, Don't you find it very cold For your little feet? Don't you find it hard to get Anything to eat? Hungry little chickadees, Would yo... How The Birds Got Their Feathers Iroquois Myth
That evening, as the family sat beside the hearth, Phyllis thought of the brave little chickadees out in the fir-trees. "I wonder if they are really warm enough," she said. "Do feathers make a warm dress, mother? Why do birds have feathers inste... Origin Of The Raven And The Macaw Zuni Creation Myth
Long, long ago there were but few Indians on the earth. The world was not as it is now. The earth people did not understand things as they now understand them. It therefore happened that a beautiful Indian prince came to live with the earth peo... Robert Of Lincoln
Merrily swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountainside or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name. "Bobolink, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Snug and safe is that nest o... Robin Redbreast Merry Robin Redbreast
"Robin, robin redbreast, Singing on the bough, Come and get your breakfast, We will feed you now. Robin likes the golden grain, Nods his head and sings again: 'Chirping, chirping cheerily, Here I come so merrily, Thank... Sea-pigeons
It was very early in the spring. The sun rose, stayed for only a moment above the horizon, and then sank again from the sight of Eskimo children. But already huge icebergs broke from the shore and floated out to sea. Already the icy winds hurrie... The Bobolink A Summer Song
He sat upon the tallest bending grass stalk. He paid not the slightest attention to Phyllis. He just swung lightly with the June breezes, and sang his little heart out. Such a careless, joyous, jingling song Phyllis had never before heard. It s... The Chickadee Or Snowbird In The Snow
It was a bright, wintry day. The frost jewels sparkled on the snow. The winds blew cutting cold from the north. Phyllis, in her scarlet coat and cap, and long, warm leggings, waded in the deepest drifts she could find. Out by the garden fence ... The Circling Of Cranes
One autumn day ages and ages ago, the cranes were preparing to go south. Cranes always dreaded the cold and flew away to the summer-land at the first glitter of the frost. The crane leader had a loud, hoarse voice, and he called and called to hi... The First Hawk
During the short Greenland summer the Eskimos live along the seacoast. They put up their strange skin huts and hunt and fish and make merry through the season when the sun shines at midnight. Now in places along the Greenland coast there are steep... The Halcyon Birds
That evening Phyllis opened a new book and on almost the first page she saw something about the halcyon birds. "Perhaps it is Jack's story," she said. Then she curled herself up on the soft sofa and this is the story she read. In the beautiful... The Hawk And The Raven From The Barnyard Fence
Had not the old hen been such a watchful mother she would never have been able to care for such a big, fluffy family. Had not Phyllis been such a wide-awake little girl, she would have never heard and seen all that I am about to tell you. Mothe... The Kingfisheror Halcyon Bird With The Water Watchman
"Please, Jack," begged Phyllis. "Girls always talk," replied Jack. "I will not say a word to you--indeed I will not." "Well, if you spoil my fishing--" began Jack. "And I'll pick thimbleberries for our lunch," said Phyllis, eagerly. So i... The Lark In The Meadow
If Jack's big black dog, Nero, had not chanced to snatch Phyllis's rag doll by the head and run away with it this story would have never been written. You see, Nero bounded straight across the meadow and Phyllis, fearing that she would lose the d... The Owl
When cats run home, and light is come And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round, Alone and warming his five wits The white owl in the be... The Owl
When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail; When blood is nipped and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, "Tu-who!... The Owl And The Raven
Once upon a time the owl and the raven were fast friends. They lived beside the same stream. They built their nests in a tree side by side. They sang the same songs. They ate the same food. They wore dresses of the same pale gray. There was... The Owl Girl
Once a very queer little girl lived in a village beside the great Yukon River. This little girl did not care to play with other children. Indeed, all day long she would sit inside the stone hut and sleep. But as soon as evening came the little... The Red-headed Woodpecker In Cap Of Red
Phyllis sat in her own room, rocking her doll to sleep. The window was open and the curtain flapped idly in the breeze. Presently into the room darted a bird. He was beautifully dressed. His soft gray uniform was spotted and barred with white. ... The Robin's Red Breast
It was very cold in the north country. The ice was thick and the snow was deep. The seal and the white bear were happy. They liked the ice, the snow, and the cutting north wind, for their fur was thick and warm. One night the great white bear... The Sandpiper
Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I; And fast I gather, bit by bit, The scattered driftwood bleached and dry. The wild waves reach their hands for it, The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, As up and ... The Sea-doves And The Great Blue Heron Beside The Sea
One hot August day Phyllis went to the seashore to live. "Such fun," she cried, as the train drew up at the seaside station. "Such fun as I shall have playing in the sand and wading in the water." It was not half an hour before she was running a... The Snowbird's Song
The ground was all covered with snow, one day, And two little sisters were busy at play-- A snowbird was sitting close by on a tree, And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee! He had not been singing that tune very long, When Emily hear... The Song Of The Merry Lark
Once there was an old gray pussy, and she went down into the meadow, where she saw a merry lark flying among the tall reeds; and pussy said, "Where are you going, little lark?" And the merry lark answered, "I am going to the king to sing him a son... The Swallow Under The Eaves
It was the tenth day of April. Phyllis knew the date because it chanced to be her birthday. She was just eight years old. The sun shone very warm and bright, and the buds were growing big and red on the horse-chestnut-trees. "I shall go down ... The Swallows
Once upon a time some Eskimo children were playing in the wet clay by the seashore. They were making tiny toy houses of the clay. These houses they fastened high on the face of the cliff. The children chattered and laughed. They ran gaily to an... Twenty Little Chickadees
Twenty little chickadees, Sitting in a row; Twenty pairs of naked feet Buried in the snow. I should think you'd fly away Where the weather's warm, Then you wouldn't have to be Out there in the storm. Sorry little chi... Which Was The Wiser?
One morning in the early spring a raven was sitting on one of the branches of an old oak. He felt very ugly and cross, and could only say, "Croak! Croak!" Soon a little robin, who was looking for a place to build her nest, came, with a merry so...