Chapter 10 | Flayem, the Falcon | Featherland

However, he was not left there long in peace, for the birds of Greenlawn did not like such visitors; and the first notice they had of the stranger was from Specklems, the starling, who flew up into the tree, and then out again as though a wasp had stuck in his ear.

“Chur-chair-chark,” he shouted, flying round and round, spitting and sputtering, and making his head look like a hedgehog. “Chur–chair–r–r–r,” he cried, and very soon the whole of the birds in the neighbourhood were out to see what it all meant.

“Now then, what’s the matter?” said the magpie, coming up all in a hurry. “Whose eggs are broken now? Anybody’s little one tumbled out of the nest into Mrs Puss’s mouth, for me to get the blame?”

“Look—look in the cedar,” shouted the birds; and up in the cedar went the magpie with his long tail quivering with excitement, and down he came again with his tail trembling with fright.

“Why didn’t you say who it was in the tree?” said the magpie. “Oh! my stars and garters, how out of breath I am. Going about in such a hurry always puts me in a tremble. Oh no! I’m not afraid, not the least bit in the world, it’s being out of breath.”

“Well, go up and drive the old hook-nosed thing away,” said the blackbird; “he’s no business here, and we are all afraid; ain’t we birds?”

“Yes! yes! scared to death,” chorused all the birds.

“Come, up you go,” said the blackbird; “there’s a good fellow.”

But the magpie stood on one leg and put a long black claw by the side of his beak in a very knowing manner, and then he said, with his head all on one side, “How do I know that he won’t bite?”

“Why, we thought you said that you were not afraid,” said the birds.

“Not the least in the world, gentlemen,” said Mag; “but my wife’s calling me, and I must go, or really I should only be too happy to oblige you. Another time you may depend upon me. Good-bye, gentlemen, good-bye.”

And before the birds had time to speak again, the cowardly magpie gave three or four hops across the lawn, and then spread out his wings, and went off in a hurry—telling a story into the bargain, for his wife might have called for a week, and he could not have heard so far-off. But Maggy was dreadfully afraid, and, like many people in the world, he was ashamed to show it, and so made a very lame-legged excuse, and ran away.

“Ha-ha-ha,” said the birds, “why, that’s worse than being afraid and showing it. Why, he’s ever so much bigger than we are, and has claws sharp enough for anything. Why, he pinched one of old mother Muddle-dab’s ducklings to death with his great black nails.”

“Well, what’s to be done now?” said Specklems, “I’m not going to have him in my tree, and I won’t either. I’ve a good mind to run at him with my sharp bill and stick it into him; and I would, too, if I was sure he wouldn’t hurt me. Wouf!” said the starling, fiercely, and making a poke at nothing; “wouf! couldn’t I give it him!” And then he stuck his little pointed feathers up again, and stood on the tips of his toes with a look as fierce as a half-picked chicken.

“Of course, gentlemen, it isn’t for such a quiet mournful body as me to say anything,” said the dove, “but I can’t help thinking that the tree is as much mine as Mr Specklems’; but we won’t quarrel about that, for just now it belongs to somebody else, and I feel very uncomfortable about my young ones. Suppose Mr Specklems goes and gives the great staring, goggle-eyed thing a poke; I’m sure I wish he would.”

“I should just like to pickaxe him with my mortar-chipper,” said an old cock-sparrow. “I’d teach him to come into other people’s trees without being asked.”

“Let’s ask him civilly to go,” said the wren.

“Let’s shout at him, and frighten him,” said the owl.

“Say ‘Ta-ta’ to him, and then he’ll go,” said the jackdaw.

“Why, we’re not afraid, after all,” said all the birds together; “let’s all have a fly at him at once and beat him off.”

“Who’ll go first?” said the jackdaw.

“Why, I will,” said the tomtit.

And then all the birds burst out laughing so heartily at the tiny little fellow’s offer, that he grew quite cross, and told the birds to come on; and then he flew into the cedar, and before the great falcon knew what he was going to do, Tom-tit dashed at him, and gave him such a peck with his little sharp beak, that the falcon jumped off his perch and stared about him; and then, before he could find out what was the matter, the jackdaw flew up above him, and came down head over heels on his back; the owl shouted “Who-o-who-o” in his ear; the blackbird and thrush stuck their beaks in his stomach; the sparrows poked him in the back; and the martins and swallows darted round and round him, and under and over, and all the other birds whistled and chattered and fluttered about him at such a rate, that at last the falcon didn’t know whom to attack, and was regularly mobbed out of the garden, and flew off with a whole stream of birds after him, and he, in spite of his sharp claws and beak, glad to get out of the way as fast as he could.

At last the birds all flew back again, and settled down amongst the bushes on Greenlawn, and chirruped and laughed to think how they had driven away the great hook-beaked enemy, when who should come down into their midst but the magpie, all in a hurry and bustle, and looking as important as if all the place belonged to him.

“Now, then, here I am again,” said he. “She only wanted my opinion about our last eggs, and I’ve hurried back as fast as I could to drive away this great hook-beaked bird that frightened you all so. I suppose I had better go up at once, hadn’t I? But where shall I send him to?”

And there the great artful bird stood pretending that he had not seen the falcon driven off, and that he had come back on purpose to scare it away. But it would not do this time, for although there were some of the little birds who believed in the magpie, and thought him a very fine fellow, yet the greater part of those present burst out laughing at him, and at last made him so cross that he called them a pack of idiots, and flew off in a pet, feeling very uncomfortable and transparent, and cross with himself as well, for having been such a stupid, deceitful thing. While the wiser birds made up their minds never to be deceived by the sly bird again; for before this he had had it all his own way, because he was so big, and everybody thought that he was brave as well; but now that he had been put to the test, he had proved himself to be an arrant coward, and only brave enough to fight against things smaller than himself.