154 BIRDS OF THE PLAINS 



being chanced to approach the nest ; but these were 

 as fleeting as the tints in a sunset sky, and were half 

 forgotten ere they had passed away. This idyllic exist- 

 ence was, alas, not destined to endure. 



One day, when the man who kept guard over the 

 orchard slumbered, a native boy entered it with the 

 intention of stealing fruit. But the pears were yet green, 

 and this angered the urchin. As he was about to leave 

 the grove he espied the beautiful cock flycatcher sitting 

 on the nest. The boy had no soul for beauty ; he was 

 not spell-bound by the beautiful sight that met his eyes. 

 He went to the tree, drove away the sitting bird, tore 

 down the branch on which the nest was placed and bore 

 it off with its occupants in triumph, amid the distressed 

 cries of the cock bird. These soon brought back the 

 hen, and great was her lamentation when she found that 

 that which she valued most in the world had gone. Her 

 sorrow and rage knew no bounds. Poignant, too, was 

 the grief of the cock bird, for he had been an eye-witness 

 of the dastardly act. For a few hours all the joy seemed 

 to have left the lives of those little birds. But they 

 were too active, too healthy, too full of life to be miserable 

 long. Soon the pleasantness of their surroundings 

 began to manifest itself to them and soothe their 

 sorrow, for the sun was still shining, the air was sweet 

 and cool, the insects hummed their soft chorus, and their 

 fellow-birds poured forth their joy. So the cock began 

 to sing and said to his mate, " Be not cast down, the year 

 is yet young, many suns shall come and go before the 

 cold will drive us from this northern clime ; there is 

 time for us to build another nest. Let us leave this 



