Some of them ventured to say that it was easier said than
done, whereupon the great man swore that he would do it
himself without assistance from any one, and getting out a big
duck-gun he proceeded to load it with the smallest shot and
went down to the reed bed and concealed hiniself among the
bushes at a suitable distance. The birds were pouring in, and
when it was growing dark and they had settled down for the
night he fired his big piece into the thick of the crowd, and
by and by when the birds after wheeling about for a minute or
two settled down again in the same place he fired again. Then
he went home, and early next morning men and boys went into
the reeds and gathered a bushel or so of dead starlings. But
the birds returned in their thousands that evening, and his
heart being still hot against them he went out a second time
to slaughter them wholesale with his big gun. Then when he
had blazed into the crowd once more, and the dead and wounded
fell like rain into the water below, the revulsion came and he
was mad with himself for having done such a thing, and on his
return to the house, or palace, he angrily told his people to
"let the starlings alone" for the future--never to molest them
again!
I thought it one of the loveliest stories I had ever heard;
there is no hardness comparable to that of the sportsman, yet
here was one, a very monarch among them, who turned sick at
his own barbarity and repented.
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