on Recollections of some Bird Frie?ids. 31


or Eagle, which I have never been able to identify. My sister

says it was a Buzzard. One day a little village boy arrived with

it, tied up in a large cotton handkerchief. My mother rated him

soundly for robbing a bird’s nest, but he declared he found the

young bird at the foot of a pine tree, at the top of which was the

nest from which it had fallen. The tree was too tall and straight

for him to climb, so that he could not possibly put the baby back.

Willy-nilly we had to take it and do our best for it. It was the

size of a good big Brahma pullet, and covered with white down.

Its eyes were golden, and its feet bright yellow. My sister got

an empty packing case which she half filled with hay, and in

that, with a well covered hot water bottle on each side of it, the

baby seemed comfortable enough. It was fed on bread and milk,

and bits of raw meat and liver, and it throve and grew apace.

My sister kept it in its box near the stove in her bedroom. My

room opened out of hers, and had a window facing east. Every

morning, no sooner did the sun appear over the Dent du Midi,

than the bird came hopping along the floor straight to my bed,

upon which he flew, and perched on my chest. There he would

sit, gazing unblinkingly straight up at the sun. I always thought

he was a fire-worshipper, saying his prayers, and to this day I

can’t think what else he was doing. He never meant to hurt me,

but the weight of his body drove his sharp claws through my

skin, and I used to call to my sister to take her Bird-o’-freedom

away. As soon as his breakfast was prepared he would cease his

devotions and go of himself. As he grew older we feared he

might become really dangerous. One morning I had three

young rabbits in my room, in a box with a wire top. Bird-o’-

freedom heard or smelt them, and flew from my bed, screaming,

and striking again and again with his great sharp claws on the

lid of the box, flapping his wings violently the while. The poor

rabbits squealed with terror, and buried themselves in their

straw. I, too, was terrified, and after that my mother ordered that

Bird-o’-freedom must be confined. He had a strong light dog-

chain fastened to his leg and round the balcony rail, so that he

could, by dragging his chain, get up and down the whole length

of the balcony. Then began magnificent combats between Birdo

and a great long-haired gray cat of ours, called Gladstone.



