THE LITTLEST SNOWBIRD

There is a runt in all broods. Johnny was the littlest snowbird born that year in his parent's brood. His larger brothers and sisters shoved Johnny aside when the parents brought food to the nest. So, instead of growing as fast as the brothers and sisters, he grew slowly at first; then, he quit growing altogether and began to weaken.

One day his mother told him that there was a cruel, harsh world beyond the warmth and security of the nest. She said that not every snowbird is meant to succeed in the world beyond the nest. With great sadness, she said that he was one of the "Innocents," destined to die young, perhaps without ever leaving the nest.

"While that might seem cruel," she sighed, "maybe it is for the best. The largest and strongest snowbirds produce the most successful offspring, which means that our species will survive and prosper."

Saddened, the littlest snowbird snuggled down in the farthest corner of the nest to wait for what he believed to be his lot in life-an early death. But even as he slept, something began to stir in the deepest recesses of his tiny bosom. He did not want to die. Johnny wanted to go forth from the nest into the world, even if it was a cruel, harsh and dangerous world. He awoke with a strong desire to live. Peeping loudly, Johnny pushed his way into the center of the noisy throng waiting for food. He had made the choice to live.

Johnny succeeded-just often enough-in getting his share. He managed to stay alive until, one-by-one, his brothers and sisters left the nest. Although his mother and father were reluctant to do so, once Johnny's brothers and sisters fledged, his spirited pleading kept them delivering food to him. Since he was now alone in the nest, he got more than enough food.

At last, Johnny was able to leave the nest. Right away he found out that his mother was right. It was a cruel, harsh and dangerous world. Dangers lurked everywhere. First he was nearly caught by a cat. Then he barely avoided getting eaten by a hawk. He found that it was difficult to compete for food.

His parents, his brothers and sisters, and many other snowbirds got their food from a large feeder near the home nest. The food was good, but there was only room for two or three birds at a time. The largest, strongest and most aggressive birds drove the weaker birds away. The competition also was fierce for the food that dropped from the feeder to the ground. Johnny was almost always the last to feed. He barely got enough to stay alive. Once again, his strength began to ebb.

In desperation, he left the feeder and began to look for other food. He flew farther and farther away. He flew so far, finally, that he could no longer hear the cheerful or aggressive sounds of the birds at the feeder. When he was almost exhausted, he found some grasses that had gone to seed. He ate until he was totally full. He decided that being completely full was a wonderful feeling.

After he had eaten, Johnny found a sheltered bower near the grasses. Fluffing his feathers, he buried his head beneath one wing and settled down for a long nap. While he slept, he dreamed of the feeder where he had left his nest mates and the many other birds. As if watching from above, he realized that his brothers and sisters and the other birds in the large flock were so spoiled by the easy dining at the feeder that they had forgotten how to find natural food. Sometimes, the natural food rotted into the ground because the flock from the feeder no longer recognized it as food.

A cat and a hawk, knowing that there were birds to be found, set up territories around the feeder. They captured and ate the sick, the old, and the careless. In spite of the danger from the hawk and the cat, the birds stayed near the feeder.

When Johnny woke from his dream, he immediately went looking for more of the delicious grass seeds. After eating his fill, he began to explore. He flew this way and that way. Everywhere he went, he found more food.

Day after day, Johnny, who started out as the littlest snowbird, gained in size, strength and stamina. He found many new sources and kinds of food. He also learned where the best places to hide from the cat, the hawk, and other dangers were. He was learning how to be more than just a survivor. His early determination not to be one of the weak and innocent snowbirds who died young now meant that he was able to survive the most severe tests that the cruel, harsh, dangerous world would bring his way.

All through the first winter, Johnny, now large and strong, stayed warm and safe. He also ate well. Back at the feeder, the other birds continued to rely on the easily available food. The fact that one of their numbers disappeared from time to time seemed normal to them. "Oh, well," they reasoned, "such disappearances are just part of life."

In early spring, food suddenly stopped appearing in the feeder. Just as the last food in the feeder was eaten, a bitter snowstorm struck. The snowbirds were without food. They were also without adequate shelter, since they had chosen to roost near the feeder rather than in the denser undergrowth away from the feeder.

Johnny was feeding at one of his favorite places when he heard a plaintive cry. He flew toward the sound. Once there, he found one of his sisters perched on a branch. She was cold, hungry, sick, and near death.

He flew up to her. With great difficulty, because of her weakened state, she explained that the food at the feeder had disappeared and that the terrible storm had caught all of the birds at the feeder unprepared for its fury.

Johnny urged her to follow him into his most sheltered bower. She was barely able to make the short flight. He brought food from his best sources. She revived as he fed her. As soon as she was well enough to stay alone, Johnny flew to the feeder. There, he discovered that the cat and the hawk were at their grim business. As the birds became too weak to flee, they became prey for the hawk or the cat.

Johnny found his mother and led her back to the bower where his sister waited. The mother had to stop twice on the way. Each time, he fetched her some food. When they finally reached the bower, Johnny put his sister in charge of feeding their mother.

All the rest of the day, he made trip after trip to the area near the feeder, gathering more and more of the cold and hungry birds. Twice, the hawk nearly got him, but quick reactions saved his life. Two of the birds from the flock, birds that Johnny did not know, were not so lucky. The hawk got one of them, the cat the other, while Johnny was getting the weakened birds away from the areas near the feeder.

Johnny's bower was nearly full of birds by the time darkness came. Those birds that were the first to recover helped the weakest ones by bringing them food.

By huddling together in the warm and secure bower, all of the birds survived the bitter cold of the night. The morning dawned cold but sunny. All of the birds flew out and feasted on Johnny's choicest food supplies. There was plenty for all, once they again learned how to recognize the natural food and to find it beneath the spring snow. By noon, all of the birds were-once more-strong, healthy and well fed. Johnny, the littlest snowbird of the previous nesting season, had saved most of his family and most of the other birds.

One fine day, soon after the sudden snowstorm, Johnny came across an old fence. Bushes had grown up around it, making it almost invisible from above. This gave him an idea. He flew out in plain sight and chirped loudly, right in front of the hawk. Almost at once, the hawk swooped down to kill the defenseless little snowbird. The hawk was so close that Johnny could feel the draft of the hawk's powerful wings. Just then, Johnny flew between the mesh of the fence. The mesh was just barely large enough to allow the little snowbird through. The hawk slammed against the mesh with a heavy thud. Johnny flew to a safe perch and watched the hawk.

The hawk remained where it had crashed for nearly an hour. At last it flew into a nearby evergreen tree where it rested the remainder of the day. It was still there when Johnny flew home for the night. It was still there the next day when Johnny cautiously flew out to check on it. Later in the day, the hawk flew away and was never seen again.

The success that Johnny had with the hawk gave him another idea. He studied the way the cat stalked those birds still using the feeder. The feeder was now being filled on a regular basis. The cat's hunting methods gave the snowbird an idea.

Johnny had all of the birds in the area divide into two groups. One small group gathered on the ground below the feeder, where the cat could easily see and hear them. The second group, with much greater numbers, hid in the shrubs, as close to the birds on the ground as they could without being seen or heard by the cat.

The cat started to sneak up on the flock on the ground. Just as he was about to pounce on one of the birds, the hidden birds flew down on the cat. The birds flew at the cat all at once and from every direction. The tiny birds clawed and pecked at the cat. The startled cat let out a frightened screech and fled. As the cat fled, more and more of the birds, including those that had been pretending to feed on the ground, attacked it. The frenzied retreat by the cat led it to large pile of wood where it disappeared between two poles. It was the last time the birds had to worry about being hunted by that cat.

Among the birds now living in the bower was a large, handsome female named Janet. She was impressed by the tricks Johnny had played on the hawk and on the cat. She accepted his mating displays. Soon Johnny and Janet began to build a nest. Not long after they had finished the nest, Janet laid several eggs. Sometimes Johnny brought her food while she was on the nest, and sometimes he sat on the nest while Janet foraged for food.

As the babies hatched, Johnny and Janet worked hard to bring enough food to satisfy the always-hungry babies. In the brood there was a runt. Both Johnny and Janet made sure that the runt got a fair share of the food they brought to the brood.

"Even the littlest snowbird deserves to live," they reasoned. "What would have happened if the littlest snowbird from the year before had accepted what seemed to be his fate, laid down and died? Maybe the entire flock would have been lost. Fate is not written in indelible ink!"