They looked and saw him standing in front of the White c.o.c.k with his head lowered, staring steadily at him. The White c.o.c.k looked as though he did not care to fight, but being no coward, he would not turn his tail toward the other and run away. He simply stood where he was, and whenever the Young c.o.c.k lowered his head the White c.o.c.k lowered his.

Whenever the Young c.o.c.k gave a little upward jerk to his head, the White c.o.c.k did the same. At first he was only trying to protect himself and be ready for a blow if the Young c.o.c.k should begin to fight in earnest. Pretty soon he began to think that he would beat him if he could. He thought it might be a good time to teach him something. After that both fought as hard as they could, staring, ducking, bobbing, fluttering, pecking, and striking with their bills and the sharp spurs that grew on their legs. It ended by the White c.o.c.k staggering and running away from the blows, while the other stood proudly where he was and crowed and crowed and crowed.

The Young c.o.c.k did not beat because he understood the movements to be made any better than the other. He beat only because he was younger and stronger. He did not look toward the Pullets, feeling quite sure that they were looking toward him and admiring him. He flew onto the top rail of the pasture fence and crowed as loudly as he could.

"c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!" said he. "I have beaten him! I have beaten him!"

The Shanghai c.o.c.k looked at him with great displeasure. "Something will happen to that young fellow some day," said he, "and after that he will not crow so much."

The Pullets heard him say this and were scared. They did not wish anything dreadful to happen to him. One of them wanted to tell the Young c.o.c.k what they had overheard, but the others would not let her.

It was not long after this, in fact it was before the Hens had come out of the large open gate of their yard, that the Young c.o.c.k picked up and ate a grain of corn which the Shanghai c.o.c.k had already bent over to eat. The older c.o.c.k did not like this, and he said so very plainly. The Young c.o.c.k lowered his head and looked the Shanghai c.o.c.k squarely in the eye. "If you don't like my way of eating," he said in his rudest tone, "you can try to punish me."

"I will try it with pleasure," replied the Shanghai c.o.c.k, and they stared and ducked and hopped and fluttered and jumped and struck at each other with feet and bill, until the Young c.o.c.k had really beaten the Shanghai. It should have been the other way, yet it was not, for the Shanghai was growing old and fat, and could not get around so quickly as the Young c.o.c.k.

Of course the Pullets were glad, but n.o.body else was. "There will be no getting along with him at all after this," the Hens said. "If he had been well beaten for once, he might have learned manners." They paid no attention to the c.o.c.ks who were beaten, for that would not be thought polite among fowls. Instead, they walked about as usual, pretending that they had not noticed what was going on, and twisting their necks, lifting their feet, and dusting themselves in the most matter-of-fact way.

The Young c.o.c.k flew onto the fence again. "c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!" said he. "c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo! I can beat them all! I can beat them all!" He strutted back and forth there for a time, and then flew to the top of the old carriage-house. Here he strutted and crowed and crowed and strutted, while the fowls in the pasture below looked at him and wondered how he dared go so high.

Suddenly the Shanghai c.o.c.k, who had been quietly trying to arrange his feathers after the fight, saw a large, dark bird swooping down from the sky and gave a queer warning cry. "Er-ru-u-u-u-u!" he said. "Run!

Run!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: A LARGE DARK BIRD SWOOPING DOWN. _Page 142_]

The White c.o.c.k spoke at almost the same time. "Er-ru-u-u-u-u! Run!

Run!"

Then all the Hens and Pullets put down their heads and ran as fast as they could for the poultry-house, which was near. The Shanghai c.o.c.k and the White c.o.c.k waited to let them pa.s.s, and then followed in after them. It is a law among fowls that the c.o.c.ks must protect the Hens from all danger.

Because these two had to wait so long for the Hens and Pullets to get inside, they were still where they could see quite plainly when the bird, a large Eagle, swooped down to the roof of the carriage-house and caught the Young c.o.c.k up in his talons. The Young c.o.c.k had not seen him coming until he was almost there. He had been too much interested in watching the fowls on the ground below. When he saw the Eagle it was too late to get away.

As the Eagle flew upward once more, all the fowls ran out to watch him. They could see the Young c.o.c.k struggling as the sharp talons of the Eagle held him tightly. "Poor fellow!" said the Pullets. The c.o.c.ks were wise enough to keep still. The Hens murmured something to themselves which n.o.body else could understand. Only the Plymouth Rock Hen said very much about it, and that was because she had children to bring up. One of the Young c.o.c.k's tail-feathers floated down from the sky and fell into their yard. "Leave it right there," she said. "Leave it there, and every time you look at it, I want you to remember that the c.o.c.k to whom it belonged might now be having a pleasant time on this farm, if he had not been quarrelsome and bragged."

THE GUINEA-FOWLS COME AND GO

It was only a few days after the Young c.o.c.k had been carried away by the Eagle, that the Man drove back from town with a very queer look upon his face. A small crate in the back end of the light wagon contained three odd-looking fowls. The Little Girls left their mud pies and ran toward the wagon. When they saw the crate, they ran into the house and called their mother to come out also.

"What have you now?" said she, as she stepped onto the side porch.

"Guinea-fowls," answered the Man. "Just listen to this letter." He drew it from his pocket and read aloud: "I send you, by express, a Guinea-c.o.c.k and two Guinea-Hens. They were given to me, and I have no place for keeping them. I remember hearing that they are excellent for scaring away Crows, so I send them on in the hope that they may be useful to you. If you do not wish to keep them, do what you choose with them."

As he read three small and perfectly bald heads were thrust through the openings of the crate and turned and twisted until their owners had seen everything around. "I don't know anything about Guinea-fowls," said the Man, "but I will at least keep these long enough to find out. I have seen the Crows fly down and annoy the Hens several times, and it may be that these are just what we need."

He took the crate down and opened it carefully. The three fowls that walked out looked almost exactly alike. All had very smooth and soft coats of black feathers covered with small round white spots. They were shaped quite like Turkeys, but were much smaller, with gray-brown legs, and heads which were not feathered at all. The skin of their faces and necks was red, and they had small wattles at the corners of their mouths. Bristle-like feathers stood out straight around the upper part of their necks, and below these were soft gray feathers which covered the neck and part of the chest. They walked directly toward the barnyard, where some of the farm fowls were picking up an early dinner. "Ca-mac!" said they "Ca-mac! Ca-mac! We want some too."

Now the farm fowls were not especially polite, not having come of fine families or been taught good manners when they were Chickens, yet they did not at all like to have newcomers speak to them in this way. They noticed it all the more, because when the White Plymouth Rocks came they had acted so very differently. They stepped a little to one side, giving the Guinea-fowls enough room in which to scratch and pick around as they had been doing, but they did not say much to them.

The Gobbler was strutting back and forth among the smaller fowls. He disliked living with them as much as he had to now, but the Hen Turkeys would have nothing to say to him because he annoyed their Chicks. They went off with their children and left him alone, and, as he wanted company of some sort, he took what he could get. He thought it might be a good plan to make friends with the Guinea-fowls.

"Good-morning," said he. "Have you come here to stay?"

"We shall stay if we like it," answered the Guinea-c.o.c.k. "We always do what we like best."

"Humph!" said the Shanghai c.o.c.k to himself. "Remarkable fowls! Wonder what the Man will think about that."

"I hope you will like it," said the Gobbler, who was so lonely that he really tried hard to be agreeable. "I understand quite how you feel about doing as you like. I always prefer to do what I prefer."

"We _do_ it," remarked one of the Guinea-Hens, as she chased the Brown Hen away from the spot where she had been feeding, and swallowed a fat Worm which the Brown Hen had just uncovered.

"Yes," said the other Guinea-Hen, "I guess we are just as good as anybody else."

"Is there plenty to eat here?" asked the Guinea-c.o.c.k.

"Plenty," answered the Gobbler. "It is much better than it used to be.

There is a new Man here, and he takes better care of his fowls than the Farmer did. He doesn't carry red handkerchiefs either."

"I don't care what kind of handkerchiefs he carries," said the Guinea-c.o.c.k. "What makes you talk about such things?"

"You would know what makes me speak of them if you were a Gobbler,"

was the answer. "I cannot bear red things. I cannot even eat my corn comfortably when anything red is around. You see it is quite important. Anything which spoils a fellow's fun in eating is important."

"Nothing would spoil my fun if I had the right sort of food," remarked the Guinea-c.o.c.k. Then he turned to the Guinea-Hens. "Come," he said.

"We have eaten enough. Let us walk around and see the place."

All three started off, walking along where-ever they chose, and stopping to feed or to talk about what they saw. Anybody could tell by looking at them that they were related to the Turkeys, but the Gobbler had not cared to remind them of that. He was looking for more company during the time when his own family left him so much alone. He knew that before very long the Turkey Chicks would be too large to fear him, and that when that time came, their mothers and they would be willing to walk with him. Then he would have less to do with the other poultry, and might not want three bad-mannered Guinea-fowl cousins tagging along after him.

Whenever the three met another fowl, they talked about him and said exactly what they thought, and if they pa.s.sed a Hen who had just found a choice bit of food, they chased her away and ate it themselves.

Sometimes they even chased fowls who were not in their way and who were not eating things that they wanted. It seemed as though they had simply made up their minds to do what they wanted to do, whenever and wherever they wished. They did not make much fuss about it, and if you had seen them when they were doing none of these mean things, you would have thought them very genteel. You would never have suspected that they could act as they did.

The Gander and the Geese pa.s.sed near the Guinea-fowls and the Guinea-fowls did not chase them. They were not foolish enough to annoy people so much larger than they. It is true that the Hens were larger than they, yet the Guinea-fowls could make them run every time. If they had troubled the Geese, it might have ended with the Guinea-fowls doing the running. And the Guinea-fowls were cowards. They would never quarrel with people unless they were sure of beating.

"S-s-s-s-s-s-s!" said the Gander. "Are we to have that sort of people on this farm? If we are, I would rather live somewhere else. I do not see why there should be any disagreeable people anyway."

"There should not be," said the Geese, who always agreed with everything the Gander said, and who really believed as he did about this. "Disagreeable people should be sent away, or eaten up, or something."

Both the Gander and the Geese thought themselves exceedingly agreeable, and so they were--when everything suited them. At other times they were often quite cross. Many people act like this, and seem to think it very sweet of them not to be cross all the time. Truly agreeable people, as you very well know, are those who can keep pleasant when things go wrong.

"Ca-mac!" said the three Guinea-fowls together. "There are some of those stupid Geese, who are always walking around and eating gra.s.s that is too short for anybody else. They eat gra.s.s, and grow feathers for Farmers' Wives to pluck off. When we have gone to the trouble of growing a fine coat of feathers, we keep them as long as we wish, and then they drop out, a few at a time. If anybody wants our feathers, he must follow around after us and pick them up."

Before night came, the Guinea-fowls had met and annoyed nearly all the poultry on the place. They had even made dashes at the smallest Chickens and frightened them dreadfully. The Man had been too busy to see much of the trouble that they made, but his Little Girls noticed it, for they had been watching the Guinea-fowls and hoping to find some of their beautiful spotted feathers lying around. When the Little Girls were eating their supper of bread and milk, they told their father about it.

"They walk around and look too good for anything," said the brown-haired one, "but whenever they get a chance they chase the Hens and the Chickens."

"Yes," said the golden-haired Little Girl, "I even saw one of them scare the Barred Plymouth Rock Hen, the one who ate bread and salt with you."

"That is very bad," said the Man, gravely. "Any fowl that troubles the Barred Plymouth Rock Hen must be punished."