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VIII. LITTLE LUKE AND NICK-UTS THE YELLOWTHROAT

Among little Luke's bird friends was little Nick-uts the Yellowthroat.

He was a dainty little fellow, with an olive green back, a bright yellow breast, and a black mask across his face that made him look like a highwayman. Though he was lively and nervous, he had a gentle disposition and a sweet voice. His home was in some low bushes in the pasture.

Whenever little Luke went up to see him, he would hop up on a branch and call out, "Which way, sir? Which way, sir?" And when the little boy started to go away, he would say, "Wait a minute. Wait a minute."

Every time the little boy went for the cows he would stop and chat a moment with Mr. and Mrs. Nick-uts. To be sure, Mrs. Nick-uts never had much to say. She was a quiet little body, not so fidgety as Nick-uts, and besides, she had to stay close at home and see to the eggs and babies.

One morning, as little Luke was going for the cows, he saw Nick-uts bobbing around very excitedly.

"Come here. Come here," called Nick-uts, when he saw the little boy; "I want some help." And he hopped over by the nest.

Little Luke went over to the nest and looked in. "Look there," said Nick-uts, "see that big, ugly egg. Take it out, please."

"Take it out?" said little Luke. "Why should I do that? Isn't it yours?"

"No, indeed," said Nick-uts, "it's old Mother Mo-lo's. The nasty old wretch laid it in there while we were away from home. She's always sneaking around, the lazy old thing, to lay her eggs in some other bird's nest. She's cowardly too. She always picks out the nest of one smaller than herself. I wish I were big enough to give her a sound thrashing.

"Please take the egg out," he went on. "I can't do it myself, and if you don't take it out, we shall have to leave the nest and our own eggs and build a new one."

Little Luke took the egg out of the nest and threw it on the ground.

"Why don't Mother Mo-lo build a nest of her own?" he asked.

"Oh, she can't. She doesn't know enough," answered Nick-uts. "In the old days she had a chance to learn the same as the rest of us. She wouldn't learn then, and now she can't. I don't believe she ever tries.

"She sneaks around and steals her eggs into the nests of other birds, and some of them are so silly they don't know the difference. They hatch the egg and bring up the young one as if it were their own. The young Mo-los are greedy things and they eat up everything away from the other little birds. Besides, they grow so fast that they crowd out the other young ones, so that they fall to the ground and die. I've known old Mother Mo-lo to fool O-loo-la the Wood Thrush that way. It's a shame for a decent bird to be imposed upon like that.

"She tried the trick twice on me last year. Once we managed to roll the egg out, and once we built a second floor to the nest, but we lost two of our own eggs by doing it."

"You said that Mother Mo-lo had a chance to learn to build a nest," said little Luke. "Tell me about it."

"Well," said Nick-uts, "since you have been so kind as to help me, I'll try. I haven't heard the story for a long while, perhaps I can't remember it very well. But I'll do the best I can."

IX. WHY MOTHER MO-LO THE COWBIRD LAYS HER EGGS IN OTHER BIRDS' NESTS

"In the beginning," said he, "the Master of Life made the world. When he had finished the land and the sea, the mountains and the meadows, he made the fishes, and then the four-footed kindreds. Last of all, he created the birds. But he didn't make them all at the same time. The last ones were Father and Mother Mo-lo.

"When Mother Mo-lo began to fly about, the other birds went to her and offered to teach her how to build a nest.

"'Come with me,' said the oven bird; 'I'll show you how to build a nest on the ground where no one will find it. You must just push up some of the dry leaves in the forest, and then put some gra.s.s and twigs under them. It's very easy.'

"'For my part,' said the woodp.e.c.k.e.r, 'I wouldn't build on the ground anyway. I should be afraid that a deer or a bear or some other creature would step on me. If you want a safe nest, I'll show you how to build one. You just find a dead limb, not too dead, and bore a deep hole into it. Put a little soft, rotten wood in the bottom, and there you are!

"'That must be a close, stuffy kind of a nest; enough to smother one,'

said the oriole scornfully. Come with me and I will teach you to hang your nest on the end of an elm branch. You just weave together some hair and gra.s.s and moss and hang it on a slender, swinging branch, where nothing can get to it. Then you'll be safe. The wind will rock your babies to sleep for you and you'll have plenty of fresh air.'

"'I wouldn't like that at all,' said the sand martin. 'I'd be seasick the first half hour. A good hole in a sandbank suits me much better. To be sure, the sand sometimes caves in. But that doesn't matter much. A little hard work will clear your doorway.'

"'What do you do when the high waters come?' asked the phoebe bird.

'For my part,' continued she, 'I like a rock ledge for a foundation with another one above for a roof. The rock never caves in on you. A little hair and gra.s.s, nicely laid down, with a little moss on the outside, and you are comfortable and safe. You'll never be drowned out there.'

"'I don't like rocks,' said the robin. 'A fork in a tree suits me much better. Just lay down a few sticks for a foundation, then weave together some twigs and gra.s.s and plaster the inside with some good thick mud, and you have a serviceable nest, good enough for anyone. A few feathers in the bottom will make it soft and comfortable. It may not be so elegant as some others, but it suits me.'

"And so it went on. Each one of the birds praised its own nest and offered to show Mother Mo-lo how to build one like it.

"But Mother Mo-lo cared little for what they said. She wasn't even polite enough to pretend to pay attention. She was too conceited.

thought that she was handsome and knew about all there was to be known."

"Handsome?" said little Luke; "the ugly old thing! It can't be that she had ever looked at herself."

"Oh, I don't know," said Nick-uts, "the sillier people are, the wiser they think themselves. And it's always the ugly ones who think themselves the most beautiful."

"Well," said little Luke, "I've seen a good deal of her, but I never thought her handsome in the least. You know she follows the cows about so much that we house people call her the cowbird."

"Well, at any rate," said Nick-uts, "she thought she knew a great deal more than she really did.

"So she said to the other birds, very haughtily, 'You are all very kind, and I am very much obliged to you. But I think I can get along without your help. I know how to build a nest that will suit me better than any of yours.'

"'Indeed, is that so?' cried the other birds. 'You must have learned very quickly. Who was your teacher anyway?'

"'Oh,' said Mother Mo-lo, 'n.o.body taught me, but I know how just the same.'

"'Very well,' said the other birds, 'we only wanted to be kind and help you. But we won't bother you any more. Good-bye.' And they all flew away to attend to their own affairs.

"After a while Mother Mo-lo tried to build a nest. First she tried to bore a hole in a dead branch, but she couldn't do it. Then she tried the sandbank, but the sand caved in and got in her eyes and almost smothered her. Then she tried the other kinds of nests. But every one was a failure. At last she gave it up, and ever since then she has laid her eggs in other birds' nests and let them rear her young ones for her."

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X. THE STORY OF O-PEE-CHEE THE FIRST ROBIN