hasn’t any conscience. You can believe just which you please, though I suspect that neither of them really knows.
As I have said, Blacky is quite a traveler at this time of year, and sometimes his search for food takes him to out-of-the-way places. One day toward the very last of winter, the notion entered his black head that he would have a look in a certain lonesome corner of the Green Forest where once upon a time Redtail the Hawk had lived. Blacky knew well enough that Redtail wasn’t there now; he had gone south in the fell and wouldn’t be back until he was sure that Mistress Spring had arrived on the Green Meadows and in the Green Forest.
Like the black imp he is, Blacky flew over the tree-tops, his sharp eyes watching for something interesting below. Presently he saw ahead of him the old nest of Red-tail. He knew all about that nest. He had visited it before when Red-tail was away. Still it might be worth another visit. You never can tell what you may find in old houses. Now, of course, Blacky knew perfectly well that Redtail was miles and miles, hundreds of miles away, and so there was nothing to fear from him. But Blacky learned ever so long ago that there is nothing like making sure that there is no danger. So, instead of flying straight to that old nest, he first flew over the tree so that he could look down into it.
Right away he saw something that made him gasp and blink his eyes. It was quite large and white, and it looked—it looked very much indeed like an egg! Do you wonder that Blacky gasped and blinked? Here was snow on the ground, and Rough Brother North Wind and Jack Frost had given no hint that they were even thinking of going back to the Far North. The idea of any one laying an egg at this time of year! Blacky flew over to a tall pine-tree to think it over.
“Must be it was a little lump of snow,” thought he. “Yet if ever I saw an egg, that looked like one. Jumping grasshoppers, how good an egg would taste right now!” You know Blacky has a weakness for eggs. The more he thought about it, the hungrier he grew. Several times he almost made up his mind to fly straight over there and make sure, but he didn’t quite dare. If it were an egg, it must belong to somebody, and perhaps it would be best to find out who. Suddenly Blacky shook himself. “I must be dreaming,” said he. “There couldn’t, there just couldn’t be an egg at this time of year, or in that old tumble-down nest! I’ll just fly away and forget it.”
So he flew away, but he couldn’t forget it. He kept thinking of it all day, and when he went to sleep that night he made up his mind to have another look at that old nest.
II. Blacky Makes Sure
“As true as ever I’ve cawed a caw
That was a new-laid egg I saw.”
“What are you talking about?” demanded Sammy Jay, coming up just in time to hear the last part of what Blacky the Crow was mumbling to himself.
“Oh nothing, Cousin, nothing at all,” replied Blacky. “I was just talking foolishness to myself.” Sammy looked at him sharply. “You aren’t feeling sick, are you, Cousin Blacky?” he asked. “Must be something the matter with you when you begin talking about new-laid eggs, when everything’s covered with snow and ice. Foolishness is no name for it. Whoever heard of such a thing as a new-laid egg this time of year.”
“Nobody, I guess,” replied Blacky. “I told you I was just talking foolishness. You see, I’m so hungry that I just got to thinking what I’d have if I could have anything I wanted. That made me think of eggs, and I tried to think just how I would feel if I should suddenly see a great big egg right in front of me. I guess I must have said something about it.”
“I guess you must have. It isn’t egg time yet, and it won’t be for a long time. Take my advice and just forget about impossible things. I’m going over to Farmer Brown’s corncrib. Corn may not be as good as eggs, but it is very good and very filling. Better come along,” said Sammy.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” DEMANDED SAMMY JAY.
“Not this morning, thank you. Some other time, perhaps,” replied Blacky.
He watched Sammy disappear through the trees. Then he flew to the top of the tallest pine-tree to make sure that no one was about. When he was quite sure that no one was watching him, he spread his wings and headed for the most lonesome corner of the Green Forest.
“I’m foolish. I know I’m foolish,” he muttered. “But I’ve just got to have another look in that old nest of Redtail the Hawk. I just can’t get it out of my head that that was an egg, a great, big, white egg, that I saw there yesterday. It won’t do any harm to have another look, anyway.”
Straight toward the tree in which was the great tumble-down nest of Redtail the Hawk he flew, and as he drew near, he flew high, for Blacky is too shrewd and smart to take any chances. Not that he thought that there could be any danger there; but you never can tell, and it is always the part of wisdom to be on the safe side. As he passed over the top of the tree, he looked down eagerly. Just imagine how he felt when instead of one, he saw two white things in the old nest—two white things that looked for all the world like eggs! The day before there had been but one; now there were two. That settled it in Blacky’s mind; they were eggs! They couldn’t be anything else.
Blacky kept right on flying. Somehow he didn’t dare stop just then. He was too much excited by what he had discovered to think clearly. He had got to have time to get his wits together. Whoever had laid those eggs was big and strong. He felt sure of that. It must be some one a great deal bigger than himself, and he was of no mind to get into trouble, even for a dinner of fresh eggs. He must first find out whose they were; then he would know better what to do. He felt sure that no one else knew about them, and he knew that they couldn’t run away. So he kept right on flying until he reached a certain tall pine-tree where he could sit and think without being disturbed.
“Eggs!” he muttered. “Real eggs! Now who under the sun can have moved into Redtail’s old house? And what can they mean by laying eggs before Mistress Spring has even sent word that she has started? It’s too much for me. It certainly is too much for me.”
III. Blacky Finds Out Who Owns The Eggs
Two big white eggs in a tumbledown nest, and snow and ice everywhere! Did ever anybody hear of such a thing before?
“Wouldn’t believe it, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” muttered Blacky the Crow. “Have to believe them. If I can’t believe them, it’s of no use to try to believe anything in this world. As sure as I sit here, that old nest has two eggs in it. Whoever laid them must be crazy to start housekeeping at this time of year. I must find out whose eggs they are and then—”
Blacky didn’t finish, but there was a hungry look in his eyes that would have told any who saw it, had there been any to see it, that he had a use for those eggs. But there was none to see it, and he took the greatest care that there should be none to see him when he once again started for a certain lonesome corner of the Green Forest.
“First I’ll make sure that the eggs are still there,” thought he, and flew high above the tree tops, so that as he passed over the tree in which was the old nest of Red-tail the Hawk, he might look down into it. To have seen him, you would never have guessed that he was looking for anything in particular. He seemed to be just flying over on his way to some distant place. If the eggs were still there, he meant to come back and hide in the top of a near-by pine-tree to watch until he was sure that he might safely steal those eggs, or to find
