unned himself, fluffed and flirted.
He strutted and "chipped" incessantly. He claimed that sumac for his
very own, and stoutly battled for possession with many intruders. It
grew on a densely wooded slope, and the shining river went singing
between grassy banks, whitened with spring beauties, below it. Crowded
around it were thickets of papaw, wild grape-vines, thorn, dogwood, and
red haw, that attracted bug and insect; and just across the old snake
fence was a field of mellow mould sloping to the river, that soon would
be plowed for corn, turning out numberless big fat grubs.

He was compelled almost hourly to wage battles for his location, for
there was something fine about the old stag sumac that attracted
homestead seekers. A sober pair of robins began laying their
foundations there the morning the Cardinal arrived, and a couple of
blackbirds tried to take possession before the day had passed. He had
little trouble with the robins. They were easily conquered, and with
small protest settled a rod up the bank in a wild-plum tree; but the
air was thick with "chips," chatter, and red and black feathers, before
the blackbirds acknowledged defeat. They were old-timers, and knew
about the grubs and the young corn; but they also knew when they were
beaten, so they moved down stream to a scrub oak, trying to assure each
other that it was the place they really had wanted from the first.

The Cardinal was left boasting and strutting in the sumac, but in his
heart he found it lonesome business. Being the son of a king, he was
much too dignified to beg for a mate, and besides, it took all his time
to guard the sumac; but his eyes were wide open to all that went on
around him, and he envied the blackbird his glossy, devoted little
sweetheart, with all his might. He almost strained his voice trying to
rival the love-song of a skylark that hung among the clouds above a
meadow across the river, and poured down to his mate a story of adoring
love and sympathy. He screamed a "Chip" of such savage jealousy at a
pair of killdeer lovers that he sent them scampering down the river
bank without knowing that the crime of which they stood convicted was
that of being mated when he was not. As for the doves that were
already brooding on the line fence beneath the maples, the Cardinal was
torn between two opinions.

He was alone, he was love-sick, and he was holding the finest building
location beside the shining river for his mate