Chapter 2

They usually obeyed him. Not only was Turkey Proudfoot the biggest gobbler on the farm, but he had a fierce and lordly look about him. It was a bold young turkey cock that dared defy him. Once in a while one of them foolishly ventured to tell Turkey Proudfoot to mind his own affairs. And then there was sure to be a fight--a quick, short, noisy fray which ended always in the same fashion, with Turkey Proudfoot chasing the young cock out of the farmyard.

Luckily for the youngsters, they could run faster than he could, for they were not nearly as heavy.

Although Turkey Proudfoot didn't like to hear others gobble, nevertheless he enjoyed the excuse for a fight that their gobbling gave him. And when he had nothing more important to do he often stood still and listened in the hope of hearing some upstart gobbler testing his voice in a neighboring field. Newly grown cocks had to go a long way off to be safe from Turkey Proudfoot's attacks.

One day in the middle of the summer the lord of the turkey flock was feeding behind the barn when a loud gobble brought his head up with a jerk.

"Ha!" Turkey Proudfoot cried. "That's somebody in the yard, around the barn. He thinks I'm further away than this, or he'd never dare bawl like that."

Turkey Proudfoot dashed around the barn at a swift trot. He was surprised to see not a turkey cock in the farmyard. The rooster was there, however. And Turkey Proudfoot eyed him sternly.

"You weren't trying to gobble a moment ago, were you?" he inquired.

"No, indeed!" said the rooster.

Turkey Proudfoot looked puzzled.

"Somebody gobbled," he declared. "I'm sure the noise came from this yard. I was behind the barn when I heard it. And I hurried around the corner at once."

"Maybe the person that gobbled ran around the other end of the barn, to dodge you," the rooster suggested.

"I'll go and see," said Turkey Proudfoot. And he went back where he came from.

He found nobody there. But that annoying gobble sounded again and brought him back into the yard even faster than before. "Who did that?" he squalled.

And somebody mocked him. Somebody repeated his question after him. It was the same voice that had gobbled.

Turkey Proudfoot's rage was terrible to see.

IX

A STRANGE GOBBLE

"Gobble, _gobble, gobble, gobble!_"

Turkey Proudfoot stood in the farmyard and craned his neck in every direction. That sound certainly was close at hand. Yet there wasn't a turkey cock anywhere in sight, either on the ground or in the trees.

Just for a moment Turkey Proudfoot was worried.

"That wasn't _my_ gobble, was it?" he asked the rooster. "If I gobbled, I didn't know it."

"No! You didn't gobble," said the rooster, "though I must say that gobbling sounded a good deal like yours."

"_Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!_"

"There it goes again!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. He was almost frantic. "How can I fight that fellow if I can't see him?" he cried. He looked up at the roof of the barn; but there was no one there except the gilded rooster that told which way the wind blew. He looked up at the roof of the farmhouse.

"You don't suppose that fellow's hiding in the chimney, do you?" he asked.

"No doubt he is," said the rooster. "If I were you I'd fly up there and catch him."

"The roof's high for one of my weight to fly to," Turkey Proudfoot remarked.

"Still, I could flap up to the top of the woodshed and get to the roof of the house from there.... I'll take a look and see how high the house seems when I'm near it."

To the rooster's delight, Turkey Proudfoot started towards the house. The rooster promptly called to all the hens to "come quick," because Turkey Proudfoot was going to fly to the roof of the farmhouse. "I hope he won't get into trouble," said the rooster with a chuckle. "It would be a pity if he fell down the chimney."

In spite of his words, the rooster didn't look at all uneasy. Indeed, the only thing that worried him was the fear that Turkey Proudfoot _wouldn't_ get himself into a scrape. But he thought it more polite not to say exactly what he hoped.

Turkey Proudfoot stalked up to the farmhouse and stopped near the piazza. He was gazing upwards and measuring the height of the roof with his eye when all at once a loud "_Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!_" almost tipped him over backward.

The outcry came from the farmhouse. There was no doubt of that. But it didn't come from the roof, nor the chimney.

Turkey Proudfoot stared at the windows and the doors and saw no one except Miss Kitty Cat, dozing on a window sill. Then something moved beneath the piazza ceiling. It was a cage, which swayed as a green figure clung to the wires on one side of it.

"I'm a handsome bird," a voice informed Turkey Proudfoot. "_Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!_"

For once in his life Turkey Proudfoot hadn't a word to say. For the moment he was struck dumb.

At last he found his voice. "Who are you?" he bellowed.

"Ha! ha! ha! ha!"

"Don't laugh at me!" cried Turkey Proudfoot.

"Polly wants a cracker," said the green bird.

A few quick steps brought Turkey Proudfoot upon the piazza, nearer the cage where the annoying green person swung and made queer, throaty noises--sounds which only angered Turkey Proud foot the more.

Turkey Proudfoot took a little run and rose into the air, to crash against the cage and then fall flapping upon the piazza floor.

The green person shrieked. And the hired man, with an axe in his hand, peered out of the woodshed door.

"Here, you old gobbler! You leave our Polly alone!" he called. And he ran out and gave Turkey Proudfoot a sharp rap with the axe helve.

Turkey Proudfoot ran off and hid behind the barn and sulked.

"There's a bird around here," he muttered, "that mocks Miss Kitty Cat; and they call him a Cat Bird. Now, here's a bird that mocks me; so I should think they'd call him a Turkey Bird. But they don't. I heard the hired man call him Pretty Polly.

"Pretty Polly indeed!" Turkey Proudfoot sniffed. "That creature is nothing but a bunch of green feathers and a loud voice."

X

THE WORM TURNS

Henrietta Hen had no love for Turkey Proudfoot. Beginning with the days of her chickenhood he had always ordered her about, telling her not to do this and not to do that. Even after she was grown up and had a family of her own, Turkey Proudfoot treated her as if she had just begun to scratch for herself.

If Henrietta Hen found a spot where somebody had spilled a few kernels of corn Turkey Proudfoot was more than likely to rush up to her and cry, "Go away! I've had my eye on that corn for some time. I saw it first."

On such occasions there was nothing Henrietta Hen could do except to stand aside and look on while Turkey Proudfoot ate the corn. He was so much bigger than she that he could bowl her over easily.

On her own account Henrietta didn't really think it worth while to try to make any trouble for Turkey Proudfoot. But when she led her first brood of chicks into the yard to teach them to find food for themselves, Turkey Proudfoot's lordly ways made her very angry.

"Move your family over on the gravel drive!" Turkey Proudfoot ordered her.

Henrietta Hen said flatly that she wouldn't.

"There are no bugs--no worms--in the gravel," she told him. "My chicks have a right to go anywhere on this farm."

Turkey Proudfoot looked at her in amazement. Never before had Henrietta Hen spoken to him in such a way.

"Hoity-toity!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you forgetting your manners, Henrietta?"

"No, I'm not!" she snapped. "I've stood too much from you all my life. I warn you now that the worm has turned."

Turkey Proudfoot glanced quickly down at the ground.

"Where's the worm?" he asked. "Point him out to me before he gets away."

"There!" cried Henrietta Hen. "That's just like you. If anybody spies a worm, you think you ought to have it."

"Come! come!" Turkey Proudfoot coaxed her. "Don't let's quarrel over a mere trifle such as a worm. Just you show me where you saw him turn and I'll show you how to snatch a worm up in the neatest and quickest fashion."

Henrietta Hen tossed her handsome head.

"The worm I was talking about is right before you," she sniffed. "If you can't see it, I shan't help you."

Of course she had been talking of herself when she remarked that the worm had turned. She had meant that she had always allowed Turkey Proudfoot to treat her like a worm under his feet. But at last she had made up her mind that he shouldn't order her about any longer.

Meanwhile Turkey Proudfoot was fast losing his temper.

"You've caused me to lose a fine, fat worm; and you shall suffer for it!" he scolded. "The only thing for you to do is to offer me a fine, fat chick in its place."

At that Henrietta Hen set up a great clamor.

"I'll do nothing of the sort!" she shrieked. And then she screamed for the rooster. "Come quick, Mr. Rooster! Help! Help!"

XI

BLUSTER

Soon after Henrietta Hen shrieked for the rooster he came hurrying around a corner of the barn. When he saw Turkey Proudfoot towering above Henrietta and her new brood of chicks in the middle of the farmyard he stopped short. To tell the truth, the rooster was afraid of Turkey Proudfoot and usually took pains to keep out of his way.

"Go back!" Turkey Proudfoot called to him. "You're not needed here. There's been a little difficulty; but I can settle it myself."

"Oh, very well!" the rooster replied. "I'm glad there's no great trouble. When I heard Henrietta calling me I thought she was in danger." He turned, then, to slink away behind the barn.

"Don't desert me!" Henrietta Hen besought him. "Help! Help!"

Turkey Proudfoot waved a wing at the rooster.

"Don't pay any attention to her!" he said. "She's excited. I'll have her calmed down in no time."

"Of course I'm excited!" Henrietta Hen cried. "Don't let him deceive you, Mr. Rooster! He's been threatening me!"

Turkey Proudfoot bade her, in an undertone, to be quiet.

"Go along about your business," he told the rooster. "She's mistaken. I haven't said I'd harm her."

"No! But he's talking about eating one of my chicks! And that's worse," Henrietta screamed. "If you're as brave as I always supposed, Mr. Rooster, you'll defend my family."

Although the rooster was terribly frightened, and wanted to run away, he simply couldn't desert Henrietta Hen.

"She's a nuisance," he muttered as he marched across the farmyard. "I don't see why she wanted to bring her chicks out here where Turkey Proudfoot would see them. She's landed me in a scrape. There won't be much left of me when that old gobbler gets through with me."

Nevertheless the rooster put on a bold front. Drawing himself up to look his tallest, he glared at Turkey Proudfoot and said shrilly, "What do you mean by annoying this lady?"

Turkey Proudfoot gulped. He wondered what had come over his neighbors. The rooster had always acted afraid of him. Though small, the rooster was strongly built. And he had a sharp bill and sharp spurs, too. Turkey Proudfoot noted these details carefully.

"I won't have to fight him," he thought. "I'll behave so fiercely that the rooster will be glad to run off. And then I'll run after him so folks will think I am chasing him."

Turkey Proudfoot then began to bluster. He gobbled loudly, without saying anything at all. He even made a few quick passes at the rooster with his bill.

To his dismay, the rooster merely dodged. He didn't turn tail and run, as Turkey Proudfoot had hoped he would.

"I'll have to try something else," Turkey Proudfoot said to himself. So he flapped his wings and jumped up and down and around the rooster.

The rooster was very ill at ease. But he didn't let Turkey Proudfoot know that. He kept turning about, so that he faced Turkey Proudfoot all the time. And he said to Henrietta Hen: "Gather your chicks and get them out of the way. There's going to be trouble here."

Henrietta Hen obeyed him without a word. And she had no sooner shooed her youngsters into the chicken house than Turkey Proudfoot gave a loud laugh--a somewhat forced, yet loud laugh.

"You're just the sort of bird I like," he told the rooster. "I've been testing you to see if you were brave. I'm delighted to find that you are. And I suggest that you and I stand by each other and run things in this yard to suit ourselves. When folks don't do as I tell them to, you and I will attend to them."

"Agreed!" cried the rooster. He was greatly flattered. "We'll make the neighbors step lively." And off he went, to find Henrietta Hen and tell her how he and Turkey Proudfoot were going to help each other.

"You're even sillier than I supposed," she informed the rooster, to his great astonishment. He had expected nothing but praise from her.

He left her hurriedly. And he felt quite glum.

"She's just like the whole Hen family," he grumbled. "You never can tell what they're going to do or what they're going to say. They may squawk and cross the road; they may cross the road and not squawk; they may squawk and not cross the road; they may not cross the road and not squawk. I don't believe they know themselves what they are going to do next."

XII

MR. CROW'S NEWS

There was no denying that the rooster at Farmer Green's place had handsome tail feathers. But they were as nothing, compared with Turkey Proudfoot's. Not only were the rooster's fewer in number; but he couldn't spread them, fan-fashion.

Mr. Grouse, who lived in the woods, beyond the pasture, could spread his tail. But he was a much smaller bird than Turkey Proudfoot and his tail wasn't nearly as big.

Turkey Proudfoot often remarked that he had no rival. To be sure, there were young gobblers on the farm. But in the matter of tails, Turkey Proudfoot outshone them all.

Farmer Green once had another turkey cock that bade fair to have as fine a tail as Turkey Proudfoot's. And for a time this gentleman made Turkey Proudfoot feel a bit uneasy.

"I'll have to fight him and pull out some of his tail feathers," Turkey Proudfoot decided.

But on the very day, in the fall, when Turkey Proudfoot intended to pick a quarrel with this person--and spoil his fatal beauty--he was missing. And oddly enough, nobody ever saw him around the farmyard again.

Turkey Proudfoot went so far as to hint that he had scared the fellow away. Not many believed that that was what happened, however. For old dog Spot claimed to have seen one of the missing gobbler's wings hanging in the kitchen of the farmhouse.

"Mrs. Green uses it for a brush," Spot had explained.

When he heard that story Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed, "Nonsense! A Fox's tail is a brush. But a Turkey's wing is a wing. Old dog Spot doesn't know what he's talking about. No doubt Mrs. Green has a Fox's brush hanging up beside her kitchen range."

Still, most of the farmyard folks insisted that the missing gobbler had met with an accident. Anyhow, the question as to what had become of him didn't trouble Turkey Proudfoot. The fellow was gone. And there wasn't another young gobbler on the farm that was likely to have a tail out of the ordinary. So Turkey Proudfoot was content.

His peace of mind lasted only a few days. He was ranging through the meadow one morning when he heard a great commotion in the farmyard. Old Mr. Crow soon came sailing over from the edge of the woods to see what was the matter. And after a while he went sailing back again. On his way he stopped to drop down into the meadow and speak to Turkey Proudfoot.

"You ought to hurry home," Mr. Crow croaked. "Johnnie Green has a new pet. You ought to see him."

"Johnnie Green's pets don't interest me," Turkey Proudfoot sniffed. "He's never owned a pet yet that had a tail worth looking at twice. As for his Guinea Pigs--well, they haven't tails that you could look at even once. They haven't any tails at all. I must say I don't admire Johnnie Green's taste in pets," said Turkey Proudfoot.

"Ah! This one is different," Mr. Crow told him with a hoarse laugh. "When you see his tail you'll fold yours up in a hurry. And you'll never spread it again."

"Impossible!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "Impossible!" He was so angry with Mr. Crow that he couldn't say anything more.

For all that, he strode away towards the farmyard. And he had a most uneasy feeling under his wishbone.

XIII

THE NEW PET

Turkey Proudfoot came hurrying back to the farmyard from the meadow where Mr. Crow had stopped and advised him to go home and see Johnnie Green's new pet.

When Turkey Proudfoot scurried around the barn he found everybody all a-flutter. No one paid any attention to Turkey Proudfoot, though he spread his tail and strutted up to his neighbors with a most important air.

"What's going on here?" Turkey Proudfoot demanded in his most lordly tone.

Henrietta Hen went out of her way to answer him. "Johnnie Green has a new pet," she explained. "He's a wonderful creature."

"I don't think much of him," said the rooster. He had a surly look, as if something--perhaps a pebble--had stuck in his crop.

"I can't quite swallow this new pet," the rooster told Turkey Proudfoot.

"Ah! You haven't seen him with his tail spread!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed. "His tail is simply gorgeous."

His tail! That was exactly what old Mr. Crow had mentioned. "Oh, well!" Turkey Proudfoot thought. "I'm foolish to be stirred up over this affair. The new pet's tail can't be as grand as mine. There's nothing for me to worry about."

But there was. What Henrietta Hen said with her next breath made Turkey Proudfoot miserable.

"You'd better put down your tail," she advised him.

"Put down my tail!" he squawked. "Anybody would think you were talking about an umbrella. What's wrong with my tail, madam? I hope you don't think I'm ashamed of it."

"I fear you will be, when you see Johnnie Green's new pet," Henrietta Hen rattled on. "You'll want to hide your tail then."

"Stop!" cried Turkey Proudfoot sternly. "You have said too much."

"Good!" the rooster chimed in. "I agree with you. She always talks too much." Once such a remark about Henrietta Hen would have made the rooster angry. Now, however, it pleased him.

"I know what's the matter with you," Henrietta Hen told the rooster. "Your nose is out of joint."

"I beg your pardon," said the rooster. "My nose--and by that no doubt you mean my bill--is _not_ out of joint."

"Oh, yes it is!" she insisted. "And Turkey Proudfoot's will be out of joint too, as soon as he sees the newcomer."

"Where is he?" Turkey Proudfoot suddenly demanded. "Let me have a look at him! I'll soon show _him_ whether there's anything wrong with my bill." He puffed himself up and looked very fierce.

To his amazement, Henrietta Hen only laughed.

"Tell that to the new pet!" she said. "You'll find him in front of the farmhouse."

Turkey Proudfoot didn't thank her. He was so angry that he was almost choking. And he strode off with a gleam in his eyes that the younger gobblers knew only too well--and feared.

On the lawn before Farmer Green's house Turkey Proudfoot saw such a sight as he had never expected to behold. A big bird stood proudly on the grass plot, looking for all the world as if he owned not only the house, but the whole farm. His colors were like the blues and greens of a rainbow. And behind him he carried aloft a tail that made Turkey Proudfoot all but ill with envy.

"Who-who-who is this person?" Turkey Proudfoot gasped, turning to old dog Spot.

"Don't you know?" said Spot. "He's Johnnie Green's new pet. He's the Peacock."

XIV

A PROUD PERSON

The peacock in front of the farmhouse paid no heed to Turkey Proudfoot, but moved very slowly and very haughtily about the lawn. His huge tail was spread like a sail. In the light summer breeze it swayed and rippled, sending out a thousand shimmering gleams. And on his tail were dozens of eyes. At least they looked like eyes to Turkey Proudfoot. And they all seemed to be trying to out-stare him.

For a minute or two Turkey Proudfoot glared at this newcomer--this new pet of Johnnie Green's. Then, after first spreading his own tail to its fullest size, he swaggered up to the peacock.

"You needn't pretend not to see me," Turkey Proudfoot gobbled. "You can't fool me. You've a hundred eyes on your tail. And they've been looking at me steadily."

The peacock calmly turned his head and glanced at Turkey Proudfoot. He did not answer.

Turkey Proudfoot thrust his own head forward.

"Maybe I'm not good enough for you to speak to," he began. "Maybe I'm not enough of a dandy--"

Just then somebody interrupted him. It was Henrietta Hen. Being a prying sort of person she had followed Turkey Proudfoot around the house to see what happened when he and the newcomer met.

"Don't be rude to this gentleman," said Henrietta Hen. "He hasn't spoken since he arrived in the wagon an hour ago. We've about decided that he is dumb. And it's a great pity if he is. No doubt his voice--if he had one--would be as beautiful as his tail."

At that the peacock opened his mouth. Out of it there came the harshest sounds that had ever been heard on the farm. Turkey Proudfoot was so startled that he threw his head into the air and took several steps backward. As for Henrietta Hen, she cackled in terror and ran out of the yard and crossed the road, where she narrowly escaped being run over by a passing wagon.

"My goodness!" Turkey Proudfoot thought. "It's no wonder this Peacock doesn't talk much. If I had a voice like his I'd never use it." He didn't know what the peacock had said. Somehow his voice was so awful that Turkey Proudfoot had caught no actual words that meant anything to him.

Again the peacock screamed. Henrietta Hen heard him. And she was so flustered that she ran back and forth across the road three times and was almost trampled on by a horse.

At last Turkey Proudfoot understood what the peacock said. "Are you a barnyard fowl?" he had asked.

"Yes, I am," said Turkey Proudfoot. "Aren't you?"

"No!" the peacock replied. "My place is out here in front of the house where people can see me when they drive by.... Probably," he added, "we shan't see much of each other."

So saying, he walked stiffly away and mounted the stone wall, where passing travellers would be sure to notice him and admire his beauty.

All this was a terrible blow to Turkey Proudfoot. For a moment he was tempted to rush at the haughty stranger and tear his handsome feathers into tatters. But the peacock looked so huge, standing on top of the wall with his great tail rising above him, and his voice was so frightfully loud and harsh, that Turkey Proudfoot didn't even dare threaten him. And that was something unusual for one who had long claimed to be ruler of the farmyard.

XV

MRS. WREN'S ADVICE

Turkey Proudfoot never knew that the peacock was no bigger than he was. The elegant creature had such a huge tail and such a loud, harsh voice that Turkey Proudfoot stood in great awe of him.

Being very peevish, after his first meeting with the peacock, Turkey Proudfoot went behind the barn and found a young gobbler and gave him a terrible drubbing. Then Turkey Proudfoot felt better.

That night he roosted in a tree near the farmhouse. And in the morning when he awoke no thought of the peacock entered his head. He indulged in a few early morning gobbles--according to his custom--when a rasping scream reminded him of his hated rival. The peacock had slept in another tree not far away, even nearer the farmhouse than Turkey Proudfoot's.

"Huh!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "Farmer Green won't care for that racket every morning just outside his window. And neither will Rusty Wren. He always goes to the trouble of waking Farmer Green with his singing. This new pet of Johnnie's has taken it upon himself to do Rusty's work."

It was true that Rusty Wren was upset. He scolded a good deal to his wife that day about the peacock.