SPRING COMES

Forest and Bird, Issue 54, 1 November 1939, Page 16

SPRING COMES

By Flora Patie

Children s Page .. .

ONE mild evening towards the end of winter, a gentle breeze went whispering through the forest, and as it passed, it touched the leaves of the trees, and the shrubs, and the beautiful fern fronds, saying: “Spring is coming!” On went the breeze through the gully where the little creek murmured and tinkled over its rocky bed, on to the hillside where it met the birds coming home for the night. “Spring is coming!” gaily it called to them as it passed away over the hilltop. “Did you hear the message of the breeze?” Tui asked the Bellbird, as they flew swiftly towards their favourite tree. “I heard it,” replied the Bellbird, “and it made me long for the nectar of the fuchsia.” “I must call for the birds’ winter report this very evening,” said Tui, who, on account of his position as chief of the forest birds, felt some responsibility for the well-being of the feathered tribe. Such a chattering and a twittering there was amongst the highest branches of the trees, as the birds chose the warmest spots under the leaves, and fluffing out their feathers, nestled down contentedly. The pigeons were the first to give their report. “The miro berries were not so plentiful this year,” they said; “and we are afraid that the men with the axe, saw and fire were to blame, together with opossums and other trespassers in our domain which took a heavy toll of our winter food berries, besides seriously damaging our homes.” Tui was much distressed when other birds also told of the scarcity of their usual food. “But what are you tiny ones twittering about?” he asked, bending to look at a group of merry Silver-eyes who couldn’t keep still a moment, even at bed-time. “We want to tell of the good times we are having in the gardens of the children of men,” they said, “every morning we find tables laid for us with sweet water in little

glass pots, soft suet, dates, honey, sweetened porridge and milk, and other good things. To show our gratitude we search the fruit trees for grubs and insects. In some gardens we find shallow baths of water and have such fun sprinkling each other.” “We, too, found gardens,” cried the Tuis and Bellbirds, “where high above the ground the children placed sweet food on a tree stump. You remember how some of our family died last year, but this year we have been saved by the children’s kindness.” The tiny Riroriro chirped softly to attract attention. “Well, wee one,” said Tui, “what have you to say?” “I found gardens where our own trees are growing,” answered Riroriro, “kowhai, karamu, poroporo, and many shrubs: there I feel quite at home and find the food I like. The children of the past planted the trees and now teach their children to love them and to watch for our coming. All the winter I have sung my little song of thanks, and I have heard the children say: ‘Pretty little darling! What a sweet song!’ ” “After what I have heard this evening,” said Tui, “I think we may depend upon the children of men. They are our hope for the future and their love will save us. Let us delight them with our concerts this spring.” The birds settled down for the night and tucked their heads under their wings. A deep silence fell on the forest. Children living near the forest and who slept with their windows wide open, were awakened early one morning at the beginning of spring by the first bird concert. Mingling with the bird voices were the tinkling of the little creek and the whispering of the breeze in the trees. The children listened to the music with delight. Soon the sun rose over the hill-top and shone into the children’s rooms and gradually the lovely bird chorus died away.