Old Rough the miser

When the two chipmunks found themselves inside their house, they listened in breathless silence, their little hearts beating fast with fear; but as all was still, and they found they were not pursued, curiosity began to get the better of them, and they felt a desire to obtain a glimpse of the dangerous being that had inspired Bobtilla with such terror.

Noiselessly approaching the opening of their house, Squirrello put out his head and glanced cautiously around. On the tall tree sat a large bird, such as the squirrel, who had hitherto lived on the outskirts of a large town, had never seen. His strong claws grasped tightly the bough on which he rested, and his large yellow eyes that gleamed through the foliage looked straight before him. The pointed tufts on his head and his large hooked beak gave him a vigilant and fierce expression, and at intervals he blinked his eyes solemnly. It was a great grandson of Judge Owl, who, many years before, had settled the dispute between the crow and the water-rat.

Squirrello having made these observations from his door, turned and addressed his wife,—

“Come, Squirrella, and look at this strange creature. We have certainly seen nothing like him.”

Squirrella glanced toward a corner of her house, where, on a soft bed of leaves and moss, lay two young chipmunks fast asleep.

“They are all right,” replied her husband, reassuringly, “old Blinkeye can’t get in here.”

“How I dread the time when they are old enough to run about by themselves,” said Squirrella, anxiously. “I almost wish we had remained where we were.”

“You forget the cats there,” answered her husband. “Evidently old Blinkeye is the only creature we need fear besides the water-rat, and owls are dangerous only at night.”

“Then why did the field-mouse seem so alarmed at sight of him?” asked Squirrella.

“Because she is afraid of everything. Come, my dear, don’t be as foolish as she is, but take a good look at this remarkable-looking bird, that you may avoid him in future.”

Thus encouraged, Squirrella took heart and followed her husband to the door, and after a moment, seeing how silently and quietly the owl sat on his perch, she became emboldened to join her husband on the top of the wall, where they both remained, watching the great solemn eyes of the fierce Blinkeye.

The two chipmunks conversed in low tones, and the owl was evidently not aware of their presence, for he still looked straight before him in the same solemn manner.

A laughing and cawing was heard before long, and two noisy young crows lighted on a tree directly opposite the silent owl.

“How are you, father Blinkeye?” asked one of the crows, familiarly. The owl turned his head slightly towards the voice, but maintained the same dignified silence.

“You don’t happen to know what the parrot died of, do you, my friend?” asked the other crow; but as he received no answer, he continued,—

“Well, he died of talking, and I thought perhaps you might have symptoms of the same disease.”

The owl continued silent as before, and fixed his solemn yellow eyes on the impertinent young crows, who after a while became somewhat uneasy under his steadfast gaze. With a show of indifference they indulged in personal remarks intended to annoy the silent owl, but to all their impertinence the owl was apparently unmoved, and at last broke silence:—

“Let me advise you, my young friends, for you are very young in experience, to be a little more careful in your selection of a place to conceal your stolen treasures. I am astonished that such shrewd young fellows as you consider yourselves should have shown so little judgment.”

“What do you mean?” asked both together.

“Oh! nothing,” answered the owl, carelessly. “I thought perhaps you might sometime have occasion to conceal a bone or delicate scrap of meat your old grandfather had given you as a reward for good behavior, and I have heard that you were not as careful as you might be in your selection of hiding-places.”

“So you have been spying, have you?” exclaimed the younger crow, angrily.

“I?” asked the owl, coolly. “Oh, no, I was merely repeating what I had heard. Old bones and scraps of meat do not attract me; I prefer live game.” And at the words, the two little chipmunks suddenly darted into their house, and remained there until the mischievous crows had taken flight, and all was still once more.

“You see, my young friends,” continued the owl, “that you are better known than you think you are. Did you ever hear that verse about your family in ‘The Laws of the Woods?’ I will repeat it to you, that you may form some idea of the reputation you bear:—

“Capital!” exclaimed the two crows, bursting into caws of laughter. “Give us some more verses from ‘The Laws of the Woods’!”

“I will,” replied the owl, severely, and still gazing fixedly on them, he repeated in warning notes:—

“Suppose you tell us what it means?” said the elder crow. “Who is the ‘body round and lithe and long,’ and who the ‘body thick and strong’?”

“You will find out to your sorrow before long,” replied the owl, solemnly; “but ‘the day of peace’ will dawn for the rest of us.”

“In return for your compliment, I’ll recite for your benefit a verse that is a little easier to understand,” said the elder crow:—

As the crow finished his verse, he and his brother flew off with great flapping of wings and derisive jeers, cawing out the lines as long as they were within hearing of the owl.

When they were out of sight, the two crows looked at each other, and the younger said,—

“How do you suppose he found out about that pig’s ear?”

“I’m sure I don’t know; somebody probably watched us. One thing he said is true,—he always wants live food himself.”

“I’ll tell you how it is,” replied the younger brother, “Old Rough is an acquaintance of his, and he is always prying about, and wouldn’t hesitate to help himself to anything he might find. Yes, we’ll have to find a new hiding-place.”

“Hush!” said the elder brother, as they came in sight of their home; “don’t talk so loudly. There’s the old gentleman on the lookout, and old as he is, he hears quicker than any of us.”

On the top of a tall fir-tree, where the branches grew thickest, reposed the home of the crow family,—and a most untidy and insecure structure it was, looking as if the materials had been flung against the tree and caught there; for mud and twigs, and rags and feathers appeared to be mixed indiscriminately, and the whole nest looked as though it might tumble down at any moment.

In spite, however, of the insecure appearance of her home, the mother-crow was seated comfortably within, and several young crows were perched on neighboring branches, noisily cawing.

On a tree near by, apart from the others, as if he wished to avoid their noisy cawing, sat a crow whose appearance indicated that he was a person of distinction in the crow family, and when the hilarity of the younger crows grew unusually loud, the mother sitting in the nest glanced uneasily towards this solitary figure, and sharply enjoined silence.

For awhile after her admonitions, the voices became lower; but soon, with the exuberant spirits of youth, the young crows again forgot themselves, and they all cawed together as excitedly as before.

As the two newcomers appeared, the old crow on the tree by himself, turning his head sideways, glanced at them out of one eye, but otherwise bestowed no attention on them.

“Where have you been all day?” asked the mother-crow in a querulous voice. “Your father has been everywhere to hunt for you, and your grandfather is much displeased.”

“We were looking for provisions for the family,” replied the elder brother, winking at the other.

“A likely story!” replied his mother. “You have been idling away your time in some folly, I know. You never are here when you’re wanted.”

The young crows knew by experience that this was the beginning of a long lecture, and they remained silent until their mother had ended. All this time the old crow had not stirred; but when the mother bird had ceased, he said briefly,—

“Come here, I have something to say to you.”

Their mother’s scoldings the young crows did not mind, for they were too frequent to make a deep impression, and she told them of so many faults at once that her reproofs lost their force; but when old Caw their grandfather spoke, it was always to the point, and left them in no doubt as to his meaning.

The two young crows at once, therefore, obeyed the summons, and lighted on a branch opposite the old crow, who for a moment regarded them in silence. It was no wonder that the countenances of these reckless young creatures fell beneath the gaze of that shrewd old face.

Old Caw, as he was familiarly called, the leader of the flock, although having long outlived his generation of crows, had still sufficient energy of character left to enable him to sustain the position of counsellor and leader that he had for so many years ably borne. One eye only remained to him, the other having been pecked out in a quarrel in his youth; but in that single eye was concentrated all the shrewdness and ability that distinguished him even among the ablest of his kind.

“Well, young gentlemen,” he began, in the high cracked voice of extreme old age, “you did well to return when you did. The expedition starts shortly, for we must have two good hours before sunset.”

The young crows knew that it was not to tell them this that their grandfather had called them and eyed them so sharply, and they looked at one another sheepishly. As he continued silent, they turned to leave him; but he called them back.

“See here, my fine fellows, the next time you steal a pig’s ear from me, don’t be so clumsy about it. There is a right and wrong way of doing things, and you can’t be too particular about these little matters.”

The young crows looked still more confused, as they learned that their grandfather had discovered their little theft.

“Did you really think old Caw was so stupid as to hide his pig’s ear where you could find it so easily? No, I assure you he is too old a head for that. I purposely put it where you would come upon it, for I wanted to teach you a lesson, and sometime I will show you how to do such things neatly. Your education has really been neglected. However, it is time to be off, and here come our friends.”

As he spoke, several crows appeared, flying rapidly towards them. Very little time was spent in preparations for starting, and when all were in their places, old Caw placed himself at the head of the little flock, and with much flapping of wings and discordant cawing, they flew off in the direction of the woods.