mery and me's goin' to pick thimbleberries for you. . . . What's that you' got?"
He showed her the strange nest.
She chuckled. "Oh, don' you know what that's for, Durek? Gosh, them little birds are sly! I'll tell you now. They built their nice little nest, and the little squaw-bird, she laid a pretty blue egg in it, then she flew away to eat a strawberry and rest a while before she laid some more. When she got back her ole man was perched on the side of the nest, scratchin' his head and lookin' awful mad. 'Come here missus,' he says, 'and jus' see what some darned cowbird's did. Laid her egg alongside what's goin' to be our little papoose.' She hurried up to see if he was lyin', 'cos he often lied to her. But this time, sure enough, he was tellin' the truth. She swore pretty fierce and pecked him 'cos he hadn't guarded her egg better. Then they both set to work and built a new bottom to the nest, right on top of the cowbird's egg, and then she laid some more eggs and hatched 'em out but the cowbird's egg got cold and died—and so did her first poor little egg lyin' there beside it. But the ole man thought, 'Oh, well, I don' care—it's one less to feed'." She smiled roguishly and shrugged her plump shoulders. "You like that story? Yes? Well, kiss me then."
"I like your story, but your cheeks are berry-stained and if I kissed you everyone would know. The stains are purple. Have you been trying the thimbleberries? You'll be sick, Fawnie, they're not ripe."
"Yes, they're gettin' ripe fast—millions of them. Oh, I forgot, Durek, my paw wants to see you. He's waitin' by the shack. Come along."
"Do you think he's coming back to pick for me?" asked Derek, hopefully, as they passed the thimbleberry canes
