1. "Good cheer! Good cheer!" exulted the Cardinal 2. "Wet year! Wet year!" prophesied the Cardinal 3. "Come here! Come here!" entreated the Cardinal 4. "So dear! So dear!" crooned the Cardinal 5. "See here! See here!" demanded the Cardinal
He darted through the orange orchard searching for slugs for hisbreakfast, and between whiles he rocked on the branches and rang overhis message of encouragement to men. The song of the Cardinal wasoverflowing with joy, for this was his holiday, his playtime. Thesouthern world was filled with brilliant sunshine, gaudy flowers, anabundance of fruit, myriads of insects, and never a thing to do exceptto bathe, feast, and be happy. No wonder his song was a prophecy ofgood cheer for the future, for happiness made up the whole of his past.
The Cardinal was only a yearling, yet his crest flared high, his beardwas crisp and black, and he was a very prodigy in size and colouring.Fathers of his family that had accomplished many migrations appearedsmall beside him, and coats that had been shed season after seasonseemed dull compared with his. It was as if a pulsing heart of flamepassed by when he came winging through the orchard.
Last season the Cardinal had pipped his shell, away to the north, inthat paradise of the birds, the Limberlost. There thousands of acresof black marsh-muck stretch under summers' sun and winters' snows.There are darksome pools of murky water, bits of swale, and highmorass. Giants of the forest reach skyward, or, coated with velvetslime, lie decaying in sun-flecked pools, while the underbrush isalmost impenetrable.
The swamp resembles a big dining-table for the birds. Wild grape-vinesclamber to the tops of the highest trees, spreading umbrella-wise overthe branches, and their festooned floating trailers wave as silkenfringe in the play of the wind. The birds loll in the shade, peelbark, gather dried curlers for nest material, and feast on the pungentfruit. They chatter in swarms over the wild-cherry trees, and overloadtheir crops with red haws, wild plums, papaws, blackberries andmandrake. The alders around the edge draw flocks in search of berries,and the marsh grasses and weeds are weighted with seed hunters. Themuck is alive with worms; and the whole swamp ablaze with flowers,whose colours and perfumes attract myriads of insects and butterflies.
Wild creepers flaunt their red and gold from the treetops, and thebumblebees and humming-birds make common cause in rifling thehoney-laden trumpets. The air around the wild-plum and redhaw trees isvibrant with the beating wings of millions of wild bees, and thebee-birds feast to gluttony. The fetid odours of the swamp drawinsects