big redbird that appeared neither peaceful nor timid. He uttered
an impudent "Chip" of challenge, which, as it left his beak, was
flung back to him. The Cardinal flared his crest and half lifted
his wings, stiffening them at the butt; the bird he was facing
did the same. In his surprise he arose to his full height with a
dexterous little side step, and the other bird straightened and
side-stepped exactly with him. This was too insulting for the
Cardinal. Straining every muscle, he made a dash at the impudent
stranger.

He struck the water with such force that it splashed above the
willows, and a kingfisher, stationed on a stump opposite him,
watching the shoals for minnows, saw it. He spread his beak and
rolled forth rattling laughter, until his voice reechoed from
point to point down the river. The Cardinal scarcely knew how he
got out, but he had learned a new lesson. That beautiful,
shining, creeping thing was water; not thick, tepid, black marsh
water, but pure, cool, silver water. He shook his plumage,
feeling a degree redder from shame, but he would not be laughed
into leaving. He found it too delightful. In a short time he
ventured down and took a sip, and it was the first real drink of
his life. Oh, but it was good!

When thirst from the heat and his long flight was quenched, he
ventured in for a bath, and that was a new and delightful
experience. How he splashed and splashed, and sent the silver
drops flying! How he ducked and soaked and cooled in that
rippling water, in which he might remain as long as he pleased
and splash his fill; for he could see the bottom for a long
distance all around, and easily could avoid anything attempting