Winter had been long in going. It seemed to Tommy that it never would go. He liked winter. Oh, yes, Tommy liked winter! He liked to skate and slide, to build snow forts and houses, and make snow men. He liked to put on his snow-shoes and tramp through the Green Forest, for many are the secrets of the summer which the winter reveals to those with eyes to see, and Tommy was trying to train his eyes to be of that kind. But when it was time for winter to go, he wanted it to go quickly, and it hadn’t. It had dragged on and dragged on. To be sure, there had been a few springlike days, but they had been only an .
But this day was different, and Tommy knew that at last spring had arrived. It was not that it was long past time, for it was now almost April. It was something more. It was just a something that, all through him, told him that this time there was no[86] mistake—spring was really here. There was a softness in the touch of gentle Sister Southwind which was like a . From over in the Green Forest came the gurgle of the Laughing , and with it was the soft whistle of Bluebird, the cheery song of Welcome , the greeting of Little Friend the Song-sparrow, the clear lilt of Carol the Meadow-lark, the sweet love call of Tommy Tit, the Chickadee, and under all a , sensed rather than really heard, as of a gentle stirring of reawakened life. So Tommy heard the spring.
And in each long breath he drew there was the odor of damp, warm soil such as the earth gives up only at this season. And so Tommy smelled the spring.
And looking from the top of the hill above the wishing-stone down across the Green Meadows to the Old Pasture and beyond to the Purple Hills, he saw all as through a soft and beautiful , which was neither fog nor smoke, but as if old Mother Nature had an veil over the face of the earth until it should be made beautiful. And so Tommy saw the spring.
He whistled as he tramped down to the dear old wishing-stone and sat down on it, his hands clasped about his crossed knees. Seasons came and went, but the wishing-stone, the great, gray stone which overlooked the Green Meadows, remained always the same. How many, many winters it must have seen go, and how many, many springs it must have seen come, some early and some, like this one, late, but all beautiful!
In all the years it had been there how many of old Mother Nature’s children, little people in fur, little people in feathers, little people in suits, and little people with neither fur nor feathers nor scales, but with gauzy or beautifully colored wings, or crawling with many feet, must have rested there just as he was doing now!
Somehow Tommy always got to thinking of these little people whenever he sat on the wishing-stone. From it he had watched many of them and learned much of their ways. But he had learned still more by wishing. That seems queer, but it was so. He had wished that he was a meadow-mouse, and no sooner had he wished it than he had[89] been one. In turn he had wished himself into a red squirrel, a rabbit, and a , and he had lived their lives; had learned how they work and play; how sometimes they have plenty, but quite as often go hungry, sometimes very hungry, and how always they are under the shadow of fear, and the price of life is eternal .
“I suppose some people would say that I fell asleep and dreamed it all, but I know better,” said Tommy. “If they were dreams, why don’t I have the same kind at home in bed? But it’s only out here on this old stone when I wish I were something that I become it. So of course it isn’t a dream! Now I think of it, every single time I’ve wished myself one of these little animals, it has been because I thought they had a better and an easier time than I do, and every time I’ve been glad that I’m just what I am. I wonder——” He paused a minute, for a sudden thought had popped into his head. “I wonder,” he finished, “if those wishes came true just to teach me not to be discontented. I wonder if a wish would come true if I weren’t discontented!”
He was still wondering when, floating down out of the sky, came a clear “, honk, honk, k’honk, honk, honk, k’honk.” Instantly Tommy turned his face and eager eyes skyward.
“Wild geese!” he exclaimed.
“Honk, honk, k’honk, honk!” The sound was loud and clear, but it seemed to come from nowhere in particular and everywhere in general. Of course it came from somewhere up in the sky, but[91] it was very hard to place it as from any particular part. It was a good two minutes before Tommy’s eyes, sharp as they were, found what he was looking for—a black wedge moving across the sky, a wedge made up of little, black living spots. At least they looked little. That was because they were so high, so very high in the sky.
He knew that each of those black spots was a great, broad-winged bird—a Canada goose. He could see the long outstretched necks as tiny black lines. One behind another in two long lines which met in a letter V, like well-drilled soldiers maintaining perfect formation, the leader at the of the V, and behind him each bird a given distance from the one in front, they moved across the sky, straight into the north.
“Honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk, k’honk, honk!” There was something indescribably thrilling in the sound. It made the blood leap and race through Tommy’s . Long after the living wedge had passed beyond his vision those notes rang in his ears—“honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk, k’honk, honk!” They were at once a challenge and a call to the wild freedom of the great . They filled his heart with a great . It and pulsed with a vast desire.
“Oh,” he sighed, “it must be great to be able to fly like that. I would rather fly than do anything I know of. I envy old Honker in the lead there, I do. I wish I could join him this very minute!”
Of course that wish had slipped out unthinkingly. But that made no difference. Tommy had wished, and now here he was high in the air, no longer a boy, but a great bird, the last one in a long line of great birds beating the thin air with , tireless wings as they followed Honker, the leader, straight into the North. Far, far below lay the Great World. It seemed to Tommy that he had no part in it now. A fierce tumultuous joy surged through him and demanded expression. Spring had come, and he must tell those creatures, , crawling on the distant earth. Honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk!
Never in all his life had Tommy felt such a thrill as him now. Looking down, he saw brown meadows and pastures showing just a hint of green here and there, green forests and bare[94] woodlands, silver threads, which he knew to be rivers, shining spots which were lakes and ponds, and villages which looked like toys.
Once they passed over a great city, but it did not look great at all. Seen through the murk of the smoke from many factory chimneys, it was not unlike an ant-hill which had been opened,—tiny black objects, which were really men, women, children, horses, and motor-cars, seeming to hurry aimlessly in all directions, for all the world like ants.
So all day they flew, crying the glad message of the spring to the crawling things below. Just a little while before the setting of the sun, Honker, the leader, down toward a shining spot in the heart of a great forest, and the others followed. Rapidly the shining[95] spot grew in size until below them lay a pond far from the homes of men, and to the very middle of this Honker led the way, while the whole flock broke into excited gabbling, for they had flown far and were tired. With a splash Honker struck the water, and with splash after splash the others followed, Tommy the last, because, you know, he was at the end of one of those long lines.
Then for a while they rested, the wise old leader scanning the shores with keen eyes for possible danger. Satisfied that all was well, he gave a signal and led the way to a where the water was shallow and the shore . It was clear that he had been there before, and had come with a purpose. Slowly they swam, Honker well in the lead, necks held high, the eyes of all alert and[96] studying the nearing shore. There was no now, not a sound. To Tommy, in his inexperience, such watchfulness seemed needless. What possible danger could there be in such a lonely place? But he wisely kept his place and did as the others did.
At length they were close to shore, and Honker gave a low signal which meant that all was well. Instantly the formation was broken, and with a low, gabbling the flock began feeding on eel-grass, roots, and sedges from the mud at the bottom. For an hour they fed, then they swam about, or sat on the shore their feathers while the shadows deepened. But all the time Honker and some of the older ganders with eyes and ears alert were on guard. And when at last Tommy put his head under his wing to sleep, a great content filled his heart.
The next day was much like the first. With break of day they had breakfasted, and then, at a signal from Honker, they had mounted up, up into the blue , and all day they had the spring to the earth below as they flew into the north. So it was the next day and the next, wise old Honker leading them to some chosen secluded resting-place each night.
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading
(Left Keyword <-) Previous:
CHAPTER THREE
Back
Next:
TOMMY’S CHANGE OF HEART CHAPTER ONE
(Right Keyword:->)