Scarecrow and the Crow (Short)

 

In a small farming village that isn’t so far away that you’ve never heard of it, yet not so close that you’ve ever seen it, there was a poor farmer who made his living growing whatever he could sell, and selling whatever he could grow. Despite his best efforts to grow as much as he could, the land on which his farm was established was poor soil, and so it did not do a good job of growing much of anything.

What didn’t help were the pests. Birds, small rodent and game animals, and numerous insects ate most of whatever did grow, which wasn’t much. In fact, one particular season they were eating much more than usual, and the farmer knew that in order to avoid letting himself and his family starve to death in the winter, he was going to have to stop them.

Now, this farmer was not without a head on his shoulders, but one cannot expect a man such as him to be particularly clever, for if he had any good sense, he would have sold his land and would have used that money to support his family while he sought another line of work. Unfortunately he was as stubborn as the old mule he owned and would not move. Instead, he sought ways to relieve himself of the pests.

The farmer knew that he was doomed to be plagued by the insects for the rest of his life, so he tried to focus on the large ones that tended to steal larger amounts of his crop. He bought a dog and a cat and placed them in areas around his field so that they might frighten away anything that tried to come near. This worked for the areas where the cat and dog were sitting at, but the areas left unguarded still allowed for the small rodent and game animals to sneak in.

Though the cat and dog did have an effect on the rate which his crop were being eaten, he still had yet to deal with the birds. The cat and dog would chase the birds away, but the birds would simply fly to another part of the field, land, then continue eating. Eventually when the cat and dog grew tired the birds wouldn’t have to worry and then the other pests could come in and eat while the cat and dog weren’t looking.

This problem gave the farmer an idea. He had seen his neighbors use such things before, but he’d always thought they were just crazy. The farmer took an old and worn blanket that had seen many better days, a burlap sack, an old straw hat with a very wide brim, and took them outside. After nailing two pieces of wood together forming what was akin to a cross, he took the blanket, ripped a small hole in the center, and drapped the blanket over the cross of wood, making sure that the top of the cross went through the small hole in the center. The farmer adjusted the blanket so that it would mostly drape over the arms of the cross, with a little bit hanging down over the body. He then stuffed the burlap sack full of straw and then tied one end of it together. He placed the open side over the top of the cross, effectively making a head for the body. Then he took the straw hat and placed it on top of the burlap sack and tied it down to the sack, and then the sack onto the body. Taking a piece of coal, he made the final touch by drawing a face on the burlap sack, that is to say the head, of the body. It wasn’t an elaborate face, just two dots for eyes and a frown. The farmer had tried to draw an angry scowl, but failed and made the face look more melancholic than menacing. Finally, the farmer took his scarecrow and placed it directly in the middle of the field, then took a step back and admired his handy work.

Content with himself and giddy with the idea of having a good harvest this season, he chuckled and said softly to the scarecrow that he was going to do a good job at keeping the birds away and that he was so proud of him.

Though the farmer thought that he was simply speaking nonsense, the fact of the matter is that someone heard him say the words that he did. Someone who was very nearby and was so close, he was actually part of the conversation.

“I’ll do my best to make you happy, Father,” said the scarecrow.

The farmer though, did not hear the scarecrow talking, since he wasn’t actually talking, at least not in the way that we humans consider talking. And since this farmer was human, it is very reasonable to assume that he did not hear the scarecrow speak those words. So, the farmer simply left the spot and went back into his house.

The next day, the birds returned to the farmer’s field to continue their eating. However, something stopped them. Glancing out at the field, they could see a figure standing in the middle of the field with its arms streched out. At first, many of the birds were afraid of this sight, because they thought it was the farmer. After a few days had passed though, the fear dissapated. Slowly they began to realize that the figure never moved and that even in the rain it stood completely still and didn’t bother to seek shelter.

Many of the birds were small minded though, and so none of them were unsure as to whether or not they should proceed to go and eat from the field as they normally do. None of them that is, except for one.

A particular bird who was a bit older than most knew what it was that was in the field. He had seen such a thing before in the fields neighboring the one they were looking at and knew it to be harmless. So he went and ate as he pleased from the field. Of course, the other birds thought him to be either very brave or crazy, though the general opinion was the latter.

One day the other birds decided to approach this older bird, who was in fact a crow, and they wanted to ask him what it was that was down there.

“Tell us, Old Crow, why are you not scared of the farmer in his field? Do you not see him standing down there right now?” the other birds asked.

The crow shook his head. “That is not the farmer, my cousins. What you are looking at is nothing more than some peices of wood with cloth draped over them to give the appearance that it is a person standing down there.”

Some of the birds were shocked that they could be so fooled, were as others simply thought Old Crow to be more simple minded than they were. The latter spoke up to him. “If it really isn’t a person down there, then prove it to us by flying down there and eating some corn right in front of it.”

The crow was more than happy to show them that they were wrong. He flew down to the spot directly in front of the scarecrow and began picking at the husk of an ear of corn. It wasn’t long though, before even Old Crow was startled by something he hadn’t anticipated.

“Begone bird! That is my Father’s crop. You may not eat from it as long as I am here!” The voice sounded weak and pitiful, yet full of determination.

Old Crow was bewildered. His immediate response was to fly away, but he stopped himself for just a moment to look around to see where the voice may have come from. He did not see anyone, and decided maybe he had overheard someone yelling from a field over, which would account for why the voice sounded so weak. Returning to eating though, garnered yet another pitiful threat.

“You should not be here! Go, for I am my Father’s son and I want to make him proud by doing the job he asked me to do. Shoo, bird, shoo!”

This time the crow was sure he had heard the voice coming from nearby. The thing was though, he knew that the farmer of this field did not have any sons, only daughters. He continued to glance around, checking to make sure that the cat and dog weren’t sneaking up on him while he was searching for the source of the voice. As he was turning his head, searching the field in all directions, he once again heard the voice, but this time it sounded more desperate than determined.

“Why are you not leaving, bird? If you do not leave, I will have failed my Father, which will make him sad with me.” The voice sounded like it might start crying. “Leave at once! I wish for you to leave and never return, bird! Shoo!”

By now the crow, being as clever as he was, realized where the voice was coming from, but that does not mean that it shocked him any less. It was the scarecrow that he had tried to convince the other birds was harmless. Though he still was harmless, it was interesting to see that the scarecrow could talk. Old Crow could detect the sadness in the scarecrow’s voice, and being moved by pity, he looked at the scarecrow and bowed his head for a brief moment.

“I’m sorry, fieldkeeper. I had not realized that such a field was so precious to you and your father. I will leave at once.”

With that, he took flight and went to the trees at the end of the field where the other birds were staying, having watched the whole thing.

Immediately they asked him everything that had transpired. At first, he began to tell them the truth, that he heard a voice, but decided it was for the better that he not tell them it was from the scarecrow, for if they didn’t believe him at first about the scarecrow being harmless, they definitely wouldn’t believe him this time, especially after he told them it could speak. Instead he told them that the farmer must have been watching the scarecrow and was seeing if it was keeping birds away like it should. When he landed near it, the farmer must have started to shout seeing that his scarecrow was not doing that job it was supposed to, and this was why Old Crow left.

The other birds believed every word he said, and all of them decided that they would simply eat away from the scarecrow.

And so the summer continued on in this manner: The cat and dog would patrol the outer rim of the fence, and the land animals would sneak in through the areas where the cat and dog were not; the birds would stay away from the cat, dog and scarecrow and only eat in areas that were clear of all three; and the farmer would from time to time come and check on his crop and would be pleased that less and less of it was being eaten, especially around the scarecrow.

As the months wore on, autumn replaced summer. During the fall season, the corn, wheat, beans, and other things grew so tall and high that the scarecrow could not see over them. This made him very sad, for he missed seeing his father check the crop from the edge of his field.

It was on a particularly windy day that the scarecrow heard a noise that he had never heared before. It sounded like wind rushing through the corn, but he was not sure that was what it was, for the wind was indeed blowing in the corn already, yet this sound was distinct, as if the corn was falling over. In a few moments time, the scarecrow saw exactly what was making the noise: it was the farmer and his wife and their daughters. All of them were pulling down the corn and putting it into hand-woven baskets made of the leaves of the corn stalkes they were breaking down.

At first, the scarecrow was horrified. It was his job to protect this crop, yet here they were tearing down exactly what they wanted to keep safe. His fears were quieted, however, when he saw the smiles on their faces and the laughter in their voices.

“Joan, my dear, this is the largest crop we’ve had in years! We’ll eat, dare I say, like nobility this winter!” said the farmer.

The farmer’s wife was not as upbeat as her husband, but was still impressed with the amount of food they were bringing in. “I agree with your statement very much; that is if you mean that nobility eat like common folk who have only a few scraps to eat everyday.”

“A few scraps to eat is better than having nothing at all, as have always been the winters in our house, my dear. Cheer up! We will eat, according to our standards, better than kings this evening.” responded the farmer.

“Kings,” said the wife, “my dear husband, will always eat better than us, for we are not wealthy, and wealth can bring in spices and sugar and things to flavor food that do not have a place in a poor farmer’s kitchen.”

The farmer, who normally was grumpy, irritable, and easily provoked, was too pleased with himself for coming up with such good ways to protect his crop to be brought down by anyone. “Though what you say is true, you also need to hold your tongue. Sugar and salt may bring flavor to food, but you will need to keep adding it in order to get the taste you want every time, and these things can run out. In this way hunger is the best sauce, for it can make even the most stale crust of bread taste like a Roman cake if the man eating it is hungry enough. And since there is no shortage of hunger in this house — and I doubt, though I pray, that there ever will be a time that we are short on such a thing — we will eat like kings and emperors and rich men every day as long as there is food in front of us. But, enough time has been wasted; we need to finish clearing this field before the sun sets.”

And with that the farmer and his family stopped talking and quickly went back to work. In very little time, they cleared the field with such speed and confidence that a mere passerby might not have thought them to be starved and malnurished.

That night, when the sun had gone down and the stars and moon came out, the scarecrow took time to look around the field and beyond. It was so empty, where as only a few hours ago it had been filled and had been so high that the scarecrow had not been able to see even what as on the otherside of the few rows of corn in front of him, and this made the scarecrow sad. He had been protecting the field as best as he could because his father wanted him to, yet his father had come and taken everything. Was he not needed anymore? Did his father not love him? Why did they take what he had been tasked to guard?

The scarecrow had so many questions like these, that after thinking about them for so long, he began to feel very, very sad. Though he could not cry tears, the scarecrow wailed such pitiful moans and cries that even a stone would have melted if it heard him. This was the first time that the scarecrow felt so heartbroken, and worst of all he did not understand why. All he knew was that he did not know, and that made him sad.

The noise that came from the center of the field, though it was not loud, was so melancholic and depressing that it travelled to the edges of the field and beyond, so that all manner of wildlife heard the cries, despite the softness they had. There was one set of ears in particular that heard the crying, and unlike everyone else who heard it, these ears knew exactly where it was coming from.

Jet black wings beat into the stiff night air, and soon the pair of discerning ears stood before the scarecrow. The mouth attached to the same head as the discerning ears spoke. “Why are you crying, fieldkeeper?”

The scarecrow stopped his lamentatious noisemaking to see where the voice came from. Even though the moon was out, it was still quite dark, and this made it more difficult to see who was calling his name.

“Who goes there?” asked the scarecrow.

“I am the same one that you chased off some months ago.” answered a voice.

The scarecrow still was unsure, but he did recognize the voice. “What was it that you called me then?”

“I called you ‘fieldkeeper’ as you are the keeper and guardian of this field. You proved to me as much when I tried to eat the ear of corn closest to you and you stopped me from doing so.” replied the voice.

“I remember you now. You were that wretched bird that tried to steal from my father. What do you want now? As you can see, they have taken everything out of the field. Have you come to mock me and tell me that now I am useless to them? No doubt you will get your bird friends and make fun of me and pull my hat off and throw it to the ground. And I bet you will–” The scarecrow started crying his pitiful sobs again, much to the dismay of the crow.

“Now, now. There is no reason for that. Your crying won’t get you anything but a bad name with every wildlife creature in this area, as such noises are currently keeping them awake.” said the crow.

Instantly, the scarecrow composed himself. He disliked disappointing others. “I am sorry. I do not want to make enemies. It is just that…” the scarecrow took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.”I am so lonely now, and I feel like I have no purpose anymore.”

Old Crow was clever, and he knew exactly how to remedy the problem. “I tell you, fieldkeeper, that you do have a purpose. Tomorrow I shall tell you what that purpose is. I will not tell you now, because now it is late and the moon is out to watch over us while we sleep. You must promise me though, that you will halt your needless crying. For you are keeping myself and everyone else awake with it.”

The scarecrow was not sure about trusting this bird, but the bit about needing to keep quiet did make sense to him. He decided that he would do as the crow asked and would keep his sadness inside of him. “I understand that I must keep quiet now, bird. Even if you do not come back tomorrow I will continue to stay so.”

Old Crow smiled, that is, as much as a bird can smile. “Though to you I seem a trouble maker, I am honorable in my words; I have not nor will I lie to you. And with that, I shall see you tomorrow.”

The crow took to flight and left the scarecrow in the field.