Chico: the Story of a Homing Pigeon Part 7

"Eat! can't you?" The man spoke roughly. What on earth was the matter with the pigeon to be so obstinate? "Hang it, if he won't eat," he exclaimed aloud, "he'll starve to death before I can get him to the War Department."

With that he fairly forced the spiritless head into the pile of kernels on the floor, but without avail; the bird, heart-broken, refused to open his beak. His tail feathers drooped more mournfully than ever, and his captor, thoroughly out of patience, angrily thrust him back into his prison. So the rest of the day and night pa.s.sed.

The Austrian rose early the next morning and hastily throwing his belongings together was soon on his way to the station, suitcase in one hand and the black box in the other.

At the depot there was more than the usual delay in procuring his ticket.

There was a crowd of men and women before him, and, impatiently enough, he was obliged to wait his turn. Worse than anything, he found it necessary to lay aside his possessions. He hesitated, then, after a quick survey of the room, selected a corner near enough for him to keep an eye on his precious box. It seemed an eternity before he could get anywhere near the ticket-office window, and he completely lost what little temper he had when a garrulous woman blocked his way and took fifteen minutes of additional time in an interminable wrangle over change.

In the meantime an inquisitive youngster, left to his own devices by his mother who was also in line before the ticket-office window, was creeping about the floor in search of diversion. After being foiled in various directions, his sharp eyes caught sight of the suit-case and interesting-looking box. Without an instant's hesitation he scrambled thither. As it happened, the Austrian having at last attained his object, was at that very moment engaged in folding the long ticket, his attention, therefore, was diverted from watching his property.

The child fumbled first with the suit-case. It was securely locked. Next he seized the black box with his grimy fingers. It was fastened only with a single strap. As this finally yielded, a look of rapture spread over his Italian features, and with renewed zeal he proceeded to pry open the cover.

Suddenly he gave a shriek, at the same covering his face in terror as something sharp brushed against his cheeks and flashed upwards.

It was Chico! He was free at last! For a moment, dazed by the sudden release, the bird battered his splendid head against the ceiling, then, before the roomful of travelers realized what had happened, he was out in the open, spreading his glorious wings toward home.

When the Austrian, on turning to gather up his possessions, realized what had occurred, he turned in rage toward the frightened child:

"You, you--" He choked in wrath, raising his arm as if to strike. But at that moment the mother threw herself against him, screaming:

"You touch my child! You touch--"

The crowd by this time was closing in upon them, so that even the station guard found it difficult to push his way through in his endeavor to find out the cause of the disturbance.

Suddenly the cry of "All aboard!" was heard, and instantly the excited gathering dispersed, the enraged woman grabbing her child and leading the procession.

Just behind came the Austrian, bearing his suitcase and the empty black box. Fortunate it was for him that the summons had come when it did, for otherwise he might soon have found himself taken into custody on the charge of disturbing the peace, and on the way to a cell in the Venetian prison.

As it was, he sank into his seat in the little train muttering all sorts of imprecations upon the whole Italian people, and thanking his stars he would soon be out of the country.

While all this had been going on, great had been the consternation in St.

Mark's Square over Chico's strange disappearance. When the children did not find him waiting, as usual, for them, they were sure he must have been shot, and Andrea mourned constantly, "E morte! E morte!" [Footnote: He is dead.]

But Paolo had his theory, and the more he thought the matter over, the more he felt convinced that the bird was alive and in the possession of the Austrian. Dropping his work for the day, he spent the weary hours going up and down the narrow streets in vain effort to discover some trace of him.

From time to time he called, "Chico! Chico!" But, alas, no Chico answered.

Then the night came. Still no news. The next morning Paolo resolved to go to the authorities, and was about to set out when suddenly there was a cry from Maria, who was sitting grieving on the lowest step of the church, watching the pigeons flying about in the blue sky.

"There's Chico!" she exclaimed, greatly excited, and pointing to a small speck, far above them. "It's he! I know it's he!"

"I'm afraid not," the old man answered, shaking his head; "we have been deceived too many times."

But Andrea was leaning forward, his whole form tense with emotion, and, in another moment with radiant face he flung his cap into the air, and leaped to his feet, shouting, joyfully:

"Urra! Urra! It's he! It's he!" and so it proved. No other bird could fly with such strong, sure strokes.

Soon he was in his nest drinking eagerly the water Andrea had placed for him. It was the first thing he always wanted when he returned from a flight, but now he drank more thirstily than usual Then, how he did eat! It was plain he was half starved. There was no mistake about it, he was thin, and his feathers were so bedraggled that it was evident he had not preened them since he had been gone.

But he was home, nothing else mattered!

CHAPTER IX

"COO-OO, COO-OO-OO. RUK-AT-A-COO"

There was no denying the fact that Chico was a handsome bird, and as time pa.s.sed, he became more and more careful of his appearance. He would spend fully half an hour each morning over his toilet, smoothing every feather into place with the most exact nicety, polis.h.i.+ng his delicately arched bill, and proudly spreading his tail. Then, when the sun shone full upon him, the peculiar markings of his wings seemed fairly radiant in their glorious iridescence.

From the saucy tilt of his dainty head to his graceful feet, he was a Beau Brummel among pigeons.

It was no wonder that his little master's heart swelled with pride, and that he repeated, over and over again, "My Chico is grande; my Chico is--GREAT!"

But there came a time when it was evident that, in spite of the gorgeous appearance he presented, he was not altogether happy.

While he polished his beak and preened his feathers more a.s.siduously than ever, there was a note of pleading in his cooing that puzzled the children, and caused Andrea to remark: "I wonder what can be the matter with Chico!"

In reply Paolo nodded his wise old head and answered, with a touch of sympathy, "I know--he's lonely, and wants a mate." The old man even went so far as to select a dainty little lady pigeon and place her on the ledge, but alas! Chico resented what he evidently considered an intrusion, retreated to the extreme edge, where he looked askance at his companion, and refused, to be moved by her modest advances. Not a single "coo" would he give, and to his everlasting disgrace finally gently but firmly pushed her off the ledge. It was plain she had no charms for him! After one or two further attempts, which ended in the same way, Paolo gave up and allowed Chico to manage his own courting.

When his gentle, beseeching cooing failed to attract, he resorted to bolder methods, flying about the Square, and lingering longer than was his wont among neighboring nests, until he chanced upon a pigeon that took his fancy.

She was a modest little thing, soft drab in color, and not as strikingly marked as he, but she was popular with the birds about, and Chico had to fight one or two l.u.s.ty rivals before he won her for himself.

The children watched it all with fascinated interest, and when one morning they found her by his side on the ledge outside his nest, they were fairly beside themselves with delight.

All day long they perched together, billing and cooing to their hearts'

content, "the prettiest sight in Venice," as all agreed who saw them.

"Coo-oo," he would begin, and she would answer softly. Then they would join in "Coo-oos coo-oo-oo. Ruk-at-a-coo, coo-oo."

Sometimes he would playfully ruffle her feathers, and she would respond by turning to him so coquettishly that they would touch their bills together, so the hours would as they billed and cooed in their love-making.

It was Maria who named the dainty little mate, calling her Pepita, from the first time she saw her by Chico's side. But it was Paolo who declared he could give a pretty good guess as to what they were saying to each other in their soft pigeon language.

"Well, what is it?" Andrea asked incredulously.

"She wants him to help her fix up the old nest," he a.s.serted in a tone of confidence that greatly impressed his audience; "like the rest of the women-folks, she isn't satisfied with it as it is, I don't know as I blame her--it's a pretty poor excuse for a home, even if Chico did manage to make it do while he was a bachelor."

The children's faith in the old man increased tenfold when, the very next day, they discovered Pepita returning from a short flight with a few coa.r.s.e straws in her beak, while in another moment Chico came flying around the corner of the church with half a dozen more.

"You were right!" Andrea exclaimed, as he made an effort to restrain his boisterous delight, and quietly looked in at the busy pair; "they are working as hard as ever they can this very minute."

After that there were more straws brought, besides other things evidently intended for lining, and though their home, when done, was not as smooth or fine a piece of workmans.h.i.+p as many other birds can boast of, at least it was comfortable, and exactly according to their ideas.

Chico had always loved his nest, but, with the appearance of two eggs under Pepita's breast, he found it difficult to leave, even on necessary flights.

He was a devoted husband and was content to perch by her side the whole day long, softly cooing in his efforts to entertain her, and always ready to relieve her in keeping the eggs warm when she wished to take a turn around the Square for exercise or in search of food.