ould not follow.
The only reason she escaped a big blue racer when she went to take her
first bath, was that a hawk had his eye on the snake and snapped it up
at just the proper moment to save the poor, quivering little bird. She
was left so badly frightened that she could not move for a long time.

All the tribulations of birdland fell to her lot. She was so frail and
weak she lost her family in migration, and followed with some strangers
that were none too kind. Life in the South had been full of trouble.
Once a bullet grazed her so closely she lost two of her wing quills,
and that made her more timid than ever. Coming North, she had given
out again and finally had wandered into Rainbow Bottom, lost and alone.

She was such a shy, fearsome little body, the females all flouted her;
and the males never seemed to notice that there was material in her for
a very fine mate. Every other female cardinal in Rainbow Bottom had
several males courting her, but this poor, frightened, lonely one had
never a suitor; and she needed love so badly! Now she had been kissed
by this magnificent stranger!

Of course, she knew it really was not her kiss. He had intended it for
the bold creature that had answered his challenge, but since it came to
her, it was hers, in a way, after all. She hid in the underbrush for
the remainder of the day, and was never so frightened in all her life.
She brooded over it constantly, and morning found her at the down curve
of the horseshoe, straining her ears for the rarest note she ever had
heard. All day she hid and waited, and the following days were filled
with longing, but he never came again.

So one morning, possessed with courage she did not understand, and
filled with longing that drove her against her will, she started down
the river. For miles she sneaked through the underbrush, and watched
and listened; until at last night came, and she returned to Rainbow
Bottom. The next morning she set out early and flew to the spot from
which she had turned back the night before. From there she glided
through the bushes and underbrush, trembling and quaking, yet pushing
stoutly onward, straining her ears for some note of the brilliant
stranger's.

It was mid-forenoon when she reached the region of the sumac, and as
she hopped warily along, only a short distance from her, full and
splendid, there burst the voice of the singer for whom she was
searching. She sprang into air, and fled a mile b