Читать книгу Animals of no Importance - Douglas Dewar - Страница 5
ОглавлениеTHE CROWS AND PING-PONG.
A CHAPTER IN TWENTIETH CENTURY NATURAL HISTORY.
Great is the indignation of the crows of our station. And the cause of it all is that new-fangled game, that sign of twentieth century degeneracy, ping-pong. Utterly regardless of the fact that it was the Sabbath, and that a high Episcopal dignitary was staying in the station, it was ordained that the “final” of the local ping-pong tournament should be played off last Sunday. One of the competitors was a retired colonel of three-score years and ten, but his eye is not dim, nor is his natural force abated. He lost, but not without making a plucky fight of it. He attributes his defeat to the fact that an unsound ball was used at a critical juncture. The colonel acted up to his belief, and wrought vengeance upon the ball by sending it forth into space. The ball, although unsound, obeyed the laws of gravitation; it fell on a grassy plot. Presently a vigilant crow espied that ball, and, taking it for an egg, swooped down upon it, seized it in its powerful beak, and bore it off in triumph. Of course it was very foolish of the crow to mistake a ping-pong ball for an egg; for, granted that he was not a society bird, acquainted with the mysteries of ping-pong, the weight of the ball should have sufficed to convey to his corvine mind the fact that it could not contain a very substantial breakfast. But crows, although the cleverest of birds, are really very silly, if judged by human standards. They have not the wit to discover when a koel has dropped an egg into the nest, nor have they the sense to distinguish the interloper, when it is hatched, from one of their own kind.
Having secured its prize, the worthy crow took up a commanding position on the branch of a bamboo tree. After a little “prospecting” he caught sight of a small stone post, which appeared to be admirably adapted to his purpose. To this he flew, and dropping the ball, pecked at it to break it. Instead of breaking, the ball hopped on to the ground; the crow retrieved it and again had a peck at it, with the same result. Having repeated the process half a dozen times the crow grew thoughtful. Never before had he come across such an obstinate egg. He then decided to tackle it upon the ground; here he met with no better success. He next flew to a neighbouring tree, and from that altitude contemplated the ball, which he had left lying on the ground. A happy thought suddenly seized him. He took up the egg in his beak, and flew with it to a branch some six feet above the ground, and let it fall. It survived the shock intact.
This was too much for another crow that had been attentively watching the first bird. Said he to himself: “If that juggins can’t break the egg, there is nothing left but for me to show him how to do it.” Having delivered himself of these sentiments he made a swoop at the ball, snapped at it as he flew over, but since the first crow was in hot pursuit he missed it. Then followed a long contest between the second bird and the rightful owner. Every time the former attempted to capture the egg, the latter flew after him and tried to peck him. After a little both birds came to rest on different trees within full view of the ball, each with his back towards the other. Crows are not straightforward birds. They live chiefly by deceit. Each wanted the other to think that he had forgotten all about the bone of contention. After the struggle had continued some twenty minutes, the first bird was seized with a sudden fit of generosity, and decided to let his rival have an innings. The latter’s score was no larger than that of the first crow. The result of all his efforts was simply a duck’s egg—I mean a ping-pong ball. In vain he pecked at the ball, which bounded away at each peck; in vain he jumped upon it. He was clearly losing his temper when a third crow arrived on the scene, and, little knowing what was in store for him, gaily tackled the egg, which the second crow gave up to him in the most self-denying manner. Before he had quite exhausted his energy two more crows arrived and forthwith attacked the ball. The other three crows remained placidly looking on from a neighbouring tree.
After a time the two new-comers who had taken alternate pecks at the celluloid sphere grew “shirty,” and leaving it in disgust, they joined the other three birds in the tree, and the whole five cawed in unison, in a manner betraying the most unspeakable disgust. The caws to which they gave vent were identical in tone with those which they emit when they are deceived by an eclipse of the sun. It grows dark, and all the crows of the vicinity, as is their wont at eventide, come to roost on the accustomed tree. Just as they have comfortably settled themselves for the night, and before they have enjoyed a wink of sleep, the sun comes out again. This is too much for the feelings of the crows. Never before has such a trick as this been played upon them, so their righteous indignation is correspondingly great. In exactly the same manner did those five crows caw as they surveyed that ping-pong ball.
Most of the crows of the neighbourhood have come to know that ping-pong ball. Whether they now recognise its true nature I know not, but this I do know, that they have left it in a most conspicuous place; and one or two of them are usually hanging around, waiting on the chance of seeing some unsophisticated crow go up to the ball and try to break it. They then begin to look interested, and encourage him in his futile efforts by loud caws of derision.
