XV NICODEMUS, KING OF CROW COLONY

“CAW-R-R, caw-r-r, caw-r-r-r,” called the leaders of Crow Colony, scolding and consulting together. It was spring down in Balsam Swamp, and they were preparing to disband and make their nests in which to raise their young.

On the very tip-top of a giant balsam, which had been broken off by the fierce winter gales, Nicodemus, king of the Crow Colony, had, year after year, built his nest. You see, the top of the balsam, being broken off, formed quite a broad platform, just the very spot for a crow’s nest. From its lofty height the whole surrounding country lay spread out beneath like a great map. Besides, the high balsam was sure to be a safe spot, for the tree was very hard to climb, its branches growing at such a great distance from the ground.

Now all winter long the crows had lived together in a colony, but as soon as the sap began to ascend in the maple trees, and even before the thin ice was gone from the water-holes down in the swamp, they began to disband and to come forth from their sheltered retreats in the dense pine forests out into the open country.

Among the very first ones to commence housekeeping for the season was Nicodemus. He was the recognized leader, or king of the colony, because of his age and also because he was very wise and much the strongest crow in the flock. He always chose the most popular young crow in the colony for his mate, fighting and battling with the others for her company, and always getting the best of his rivals.

Now, secretly, Nicodemus was envied and hated by all the other crows, but not one of them had courage enough to approach very near the balsam tree, which Nicodemus appropriated for his home. He let it be understood quite plainly that they must leave him severely alone.

A fine, handsome fellow was Nicodemus. One would easily have selected him as ruler of the colony, for his great glossy black wings, when spread, were wider than those of any other crow in the flock; and his feathers glistened in the sun with burnished-bronze effects which made all the other crows seem quite dull and homely in comparison, and his round, sparkling brown eyes were so very keen and crafty that little escaped him. Nicodemus was also a great tyrant, and had never been whipped in battle—no, not even by the gray hawk who lived in the top of a giant sycamore, on the far side of the swamp. Occasionally the gray hawk would skim low over the nest of Nicodemus, but the old crow would simply take up a firm stand upon his home tree and send out short, insolent, barking crows after the gray, shadowy hawk, or boldly chase him back to the sycamore tree because, to tell the truth, Nicodemus feared nothing which wore fur or feathers in those days.

So when the maples put out their coral, pendent clusters of blossoms, and the willows and catkins down in the swamp burst forth, showing pale, tender green against the bare gray of the thickets, then in the loose, ill-made nest of Nicodemus, on the tip-top of the blasted balsam, there arose such a commotion and clatter that everybody in the Crow Colony was made aware that there were now four young crows in the family of the old king.

“Caw-r-r, caw-r-r,” hoarsely and fretfully clamored the four scrawny young crows just as soon as they opened their filmy young eyes, waking up everybody about them for miles away with their peevish screams, even before the first yellow streak of sunshine broke over the swamp.

And once fully awake, these little pin-feathery crows almost distracted Nicodemus and his mate by their persistent cawing and fretting for food. Off would start both Nicodemus and his mate, searching frantically for food to fill the four ravenous mouths awaiting them back in the balsam tree nest.

Now all this hard work was quite a fresh experience to Nicodemus, king of the colony, for before he had a family he always foraged for himself alone, and whenever he chanced to pounce upon an especially dainty morsel of food he had always sought out some quiet spot, far away from his companions, where, quite unseen, he would proceed to hurriedly gobble down the choice bit quite selfishly. But everything was now sadly changed for, no matter how very hungry he himself might be in the morning, no sooner did he decide to eat his breakfast as usual than far away, from the direction of the giant balsam tree, borne to his ears by the wind, would come the fearful din of the four small, troublesome crows screaming for food. So, in spite of himself, Nicodemus, who was fond of his family in his own fashion, would go back to the nest with whatever he had selected for his own breakfast, and feed it to the young crows. Sometimes it seemed well-nigh impossible to satisfy their ever increasing appetites for, as they grew larger, they clamored louder and louder to be fed, and in spite of the combined efforts of himself and his mate they were sometimes at their very wit’s end to find food, because, you see, other crows of the colony were also raising families, and food was not always to be found at once.

However, Nicodemus was so old and crafty that he soon learned to seek for food in odd places quite unknown to other crows.

Now in secluded spots the boys had set their muskrat traps, and in a certain spot by the brook where lived the mink family were snares and traps. Secretly Nicodemus visited them all, and, when possible, helped himself liberally to whatever he found in the traps. So that the boys never could understand why the traps were sprung sometimes, and occasionally a tuft of muskrat fur, or the tip of a toe left in the trap.

One day Nicodemus, after visiting all the traps along the waterways, found them all empty but one, and that contained nothing but a stale chicken’s head, which Nicodemus saw lying quite carelessly upon one of the traps. He was about to turn from the unwholesome bait in disgust, for he craved something better, when, wafted on the spring air came the loud noise of fretful cawing.

“Caw-r-r, caw-r-r,” squalled the young crows, which meant, “More, more, more.”

At the unwelcome sound of their cawing, Nicodemus, fiercely hungry himself, and terribly desperate, made a quick grab at the bait in the trap, and the next instant he wished he had left it alone, for to his surprise and dismay some sudden force, unsuspected and unseen, clutched at, and bit into his leg, and he was held a prisoner. Oh, how he thrashed and beat his great wings, but the more he struggled and thrashed the tighter the steel teeth of the trap gripped and held him, until finally, just about dusk, the boy who owned the trap came and discovered Nicodemus caught in the trap.

“Nothing but an old crow caught in my trap,” grumbled the boy in disgust, for he had hoped to find a mink. Then, just as he was about to throw out the crow, the thought came to him to take it home and tame it.

The next thing Nicodemus knew he was taken to the barn-yard by the boy, who drove a small stake into the ground and fastened him there securely. But Nicodemus thrashed about so madly that he soon broke the cord which secured him, and then the boy brought a great pair of scissors and clipped off the large wing feathers so he could not fly away; Nicodemus now became subdued and helpless. What a position for the king of Crow Colony. But worse yet was to come to him, for some one told the boy that if you will split the tongue of a crow it will soon learn to speak. Accordingly the tongue of Nicodemus was split, and soon, to the great delight of the boy, Nicodemus began to croak out something which sounded almost like “Hello.”

Secretly, in spite of his humble appearance, Nicodemus was neither tamed nor subdued, and his heart was filled with hate and bitterness toward everybody; especially did he hate the forced companionship of all the tame barn-yard fowls,—most of all that of the great, haughty, strutting red rooster, monarch of the barn-yard, who never lost an opportunity of giving Nicodemus a vicious peck whenever he felt like it. And at feeding time, when Nicodemus ventured near the chickens to share a few kernels of yellow corn, once the haughty red rooster had fallen upon him and spurred him most cruelly with his sharp spurs, so that Nicodemus felt the effects of the thrashing for days and days.

Old Nicodemus was a very humble crow indeed these dark days. He lost all pride in grooming his former glossy, iridescent plumage, and became muddy and draggled. He would sit perched upon an old rain barrel in a corner of the barn-yard and croak and complain dismally to himself, hunching up his shoulders miserably, and uttering a peevish “Caw,” and the new, strange croak which he had acquired, because of his split tongue, until finally he became so dull and uninteresting that the boy lost all interest in him and he was left wholly to himself; and thus it happened that his wings were left unclipped, so that all through the summer the wing feathers grew each day a trifle longer. Ah, Nicodemus’ dull days were soon to be over, for one day, just about the time the first snow flurry fell, he spread forth his great wings and began to circle over the heads of the astonished fowls, cawing triumphantly and stridently; then, with exultant, happy heart, away he flew in the direction of Balsam Swamp.

When he reached his old nest it was empty. Nothing remained of it but a few loose sticks, and these were soon sprinkled over with snow. Oh, how lonely and unhappy was the home-coming of the king of Crow Colony.

Of course Nicodemus knew instinctively that his family had grown up and deserted the nest. Perhaps they had joined the colony for the winter, as was their custom, seeking some close retreat in the dense pines where they herd together for the winter months. He resolved to join the old colony. If he could only go back among his loved ones he would soon be welcomed again and take his rightful place as king of the flock.

All day long he flew heavily about over the swamps and mountains searching for the colony. At last the leaders appeared against the distant sky-line; they had flown over the mountain, and were coming back into the balsams for the night. Straggling and cawing they came, the long procession, and finally joining the last stragglers, Nicodemus flopped heavily along in the rear. And in the darkness of twilight he joined them, huddling close together in the dense green thickets. The flock had not recognized him and they gave him no welcome; evidently he was forgotten. But the next morning they discovered him in their midst, and just as soon as he gave forth his strange, new call they knew him only as a stranger, and one and all the whole colony fell upon him and, with fierce cawings and scoldings, drove him forth from their midst.

Poor, unhappy Nicodemus! Solitary and alone he flew off, deserted by the flock, and probably by his very own family as well. No one had recognized him. The winter which followed was long and cold. At break of day the deposed king would start off alone for food, and when night came, with heavy, tired wings, back he flew to the shelter of the pines in the swamp. There the winds howled and crooned above him, and fierce blizzards sent the snow swirling about his solitary retreat. It is hard for a crow to live alone, for with the colony, where there are sometimes hundreds of crows, they manage to keep warm by huddling closely together for warmth, and so do not freeze to death.

At last spring came, and Nicodemus, glad to be alive now, heard the old colony cawing loudly, and watched the great black band of crows as, greatly excited, they settled in a near-by sycamore to talk over and arrange the business of disbanding.

Then, unable to stand his loneliness longer, with swift, eager flight the old king of the colony joined the flock. In their excitement they did not heed him. But the eyes of the king were alert; nothing escaped them. Soon a young dandy of a crow, accompanied by his mate, spread forth his wings and headed for the stunted balsam tree, the old nesting place of Nicodemus. Then instantly all the old courage of the king came back to him, and with one mighty swoop of his great black wings, with loud, commanding caws, he followed the pair, caught up with them, and drove the presuming young crow away from the balsam. Nicodemus, king of the Crow Colony, thus resumed his place among his kindred as commander of the flock.