, then all the little birds will think that
we crows have become quick-witted and funny birds." "Oh! they're not
such fools, either," said Wind-Rush; but he liked the idea just the
same, for after that he let the boy call out as much as he liked.

They flew mostly over forests and woodlands, but there were churches and
parishes and little cabins in the outskirts of the forest. In one place
they saw a pretty old manor. It lay with the forest back of it, and the
sea in front of it; had red walls and a turreted roof; great sycamores
about the grounds, and big, thick gooseberry-bushes in the orchard. On
the top of the weathercock sat the starling, and sang so loud that every
note was heard by the wife, who sat on an egg in the heart of a pear
tree. "We have four pretty little eggs," sang the starling. "We have
four pretty little round eggs. We have the whole nest filled with fine
eggs."

When the starling sang the song for the thousandth time, the boy rode
over the place. He put his hands up to his mouth, as a pipe, and called:
"The magpie will get them. The magpie will get them."

"Who is it that wants to frighten me?" asked the starling, and flapped
his wings uneasily. "It is Captured-by-Crows that frightens you," said
the boy. This time the crow-chief didn't attempt to hush him up.
Instead, both he and his flock were having so much fun that they cawed
with satisfaction.

The farther inland they came, the larger were the lakes, and the more
plentiful were the islands and points. And on a lake-shore stood a drake
and kowtowed before the duck. "I'll be true to you all the days of my
life. I'll be true to you all the days of my life," said the drake. "It
won't last until the summer's end," shrieked the boy. "Who are you?"
called the drake. "My name's Stolen-by-Crows," shrieked the boy.

At dinner time the crows lighted in a food-grove. They walked about and
procured food for themselves, but none of them thought about giving the
boy anything. Then Fumle-Drumle came riding up to the chief with a
dog-rose branch, with a few dried buds on it. "Here's something for you,
Wind-Rush," said he. "This is pretty food, and suitable for you."
Wind-Rush sniffed contemptuously. "Do you think that I want to eat old,
dry buds?" said he. "And I who thought that you would be pleased with
them!" said Fumle-Drumle; and threw away the dog-rose branch as if in
despair. But it fell right in front of the boy, and he wasn't slow about
grabbing i