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had been full of trouble。 Once a bullet grazed her so closely
she lost two of her wing quills； and that made her more timid
than ever。 Coming North； she had given out again and finally had
wandered into Rainbow Bottom； lost and alone。
She was such a shy； fearsome little body； the females all flouted
her； and the males never seemed to notice that there was material
in her for a very fine mate。 Every other female cardinal in
Rainbow Bottom had several males courting her； but this poor；
frightened； lonely one had never a suitor； and she needed love so
badly！ Now she had been kissed by this magnificent stranger！
Of course； she knew it really was not her kiss。 He had intended
it for the bold creature that had answered his challenge； but
since it came to her； it was hers； in a way； after all。 She hid
in the underbrush for the remainder of the day； and was never so
frightened in all her life。 She brooded over it constantly； and
morning found her at the down curve of the horseshoe； straining
her ears for the rarest note she ever had heard。 All day she hid
and waited； and the following days were filled with longing； but
he never came again。
So one morning； possessed with courage she did not understand；
and filled with longing that drove her against her will； she
started down the river。 For miles she sneaked through the
underbrush； and watched and listened； until at last night came；
and she returned to Rainbow Bottom。 The next morning she set out
early and flew to the spot from which she had turned back the
night before。 From there she glided through the bushes and
underbrush； trembling and quaking； yet pushing stoutly onward；
straining her ears for some note of the brilliant stranger's。
It was mid…forenoon when she reached the region of the sumac； and
as she hopped warily along； only a short distance from her； full
and splendid； there burst the voice of the singer for whom she
was searching。 She sprang into air； and fled a mile before she
realized that she was flying。 Then she stopped and listened； and
rolling with the river； she heard those bold true tones。 Close
to earth； she went back again； to see if； unobserved； she could
find a spot where she might watch the stranger that had kissed
her。 When at last she reached a place where she could see him
plainly； his beauty was so bewildering； and his song so enticing
that she gradually hopped closer and closer without knowing she
was moving。
High in the sumac the Cardinal had sung until his throat was
parched； and the fountain of hope was almost dry。 There was
nothing save defeat from overwhelming numbers in Rainbow Bottom。
He had paraded； and made all the music he ever had been taught；
and improvised much more。 Yet no one had come to seek him。 Was
it of necessity to be the Limberlost then？ This one day more he
would retain his dignity and his location。 He tipped； tilted；
and flirted。 He whistled； and sang； and trilled。 Over the
lowland and up and down the shining river； ringing in every
change he could invent； he sent for the last time his prophetic
message； 〃Wet year！ Wet year！〃
Chapter 3
〃Come here！ Come here！〃 entreated the Cardinal
He felt that his music was not reaching his standard as he burst
into this new song。 He was almost discouraged。 No way seemed
open to him but flight to the Limberlost； and he so disdained the
swamp that love…making would lose something of its greatest charm
if he were driven there for a mate。 The time seemed ripe for
stringent measures； and the Cardinal was ready to take them； but
how could he stringently urge a little mate that would not come
on his imploring invitations？ He listlessly pecked at the
berries and flung abroad an inquiring 〃Chip！〃 With just an atom
of hope； he frequently mounted to his choir…loft and issued an
order that savoured far more of a plea； 〃Come here！ Come here！〃
and then； leaning； he listened intently to the voice of the
river； lest he fail to catch the faintest responsive 〃Chook！〃 it
might bear。
He could hear the sniffling of carp wallowing beside the bank。 A
big pickerel slashed around； breakfasting on minnows。 Opposite
the sumac； the black bass； with gamy spring； snapped up； before
it struck the water； every luckless； honey…laden insect that fell
from the feast of sweets in a blossom…whitened wild crab。 The
sharp bark of the red squirrel and the low of cattle； lazily
chewing their cuds among the willows； came to him。 The hammering
of a woodpecker on a dead sycamore； a little above him； rolled to
his straining ears like a drum beat。
The Cardinal hated the woodpecker more than he disliked the dove。
It was only foolishly effusive； but the woodpecker was a
veritable Bluebeard。 The Cardinal longed to pull the feathers
from his back until it was as red as his head； for the woodpecker
had dressed his suit in finest style； and with dulcet tones and
melting tenderness had gone acourting。 Sweet as the dove's had
been his wooing； and one more pang the lonely Cardinal had
suffered at being forced to witness his felicity； yet scarcely
had his plump； amiable little mate consented to his caresses and
approved the sycamore； before he turned on her； pecked her
severely； and pulled a tuft of plumage from her breast。 There
was not the least excuse for this tyrannical action； and the
sight filled the Cardinal with rage。 He fully expected to see
Madam Woodpecker divorce herself and flee her new home； and he
most earnestly hoped that she would； but she did no such thing。
She meekly flattened her feathers； hurried work in a lively
manner； and tried in every way to anticipate and avert her mate's
displeasure。 Under this treatment he grew more abusive； and now
Madam Woodpecker dodged every time she came within his reach。 It
made the Cardinal feel so vengeful that he longed to go up and
drum the sycamore with the woodpecker's head until he taught him
how to treat his mate properly。
There was plently of lark music rolling with the river； and that
morning brought the first liquid golden notes of the orioles。
They had arrived at dawn； and were overjoyed with their
homecoming； for they were darting from bank to bank singing
exquisitely on wing。 There seemed no end to the bird voices that
floated with the river； and yet there was no beginning to the one
voice for which the Cardinal waited with passionate longing。
The oriole's singing was so inspiring that it tempted the
Cardinal to another effort； and perching where he gleamed crimson
and black against the April sky； he tested his voice； and when
sure of his tones； he entreatingly called： 〃Come here！ Come
here！〃
Just then he saw her！ She came daintily over the earth； soft as
down before the wind； a rosy flush suffusing her plumage； a coral
beak； her very feet pinkthe shyest； most timid little thing
alive。 Her bright eyes were popping with fear； and down there
among the fe