Part 6

She has been known to depart and pursue her business in foreign lands, returning at her leisure, before she will be induced to relate the rest of the story of Prince Flamingo.

XIV

PRINCE FLAMINGO'S TRIUMPHANT RETURN

In the gorgeous court of the Emperor, where White Wing had come into such great good fortune, the one person whom everybody feared was the splendid ruler himself. For rulers have been notable in history for their fickle ways and shifting affections, and this emperor was no exception to the rule. First it was one favorite who fell into disfavor, and then another, and even the priests and the councilors, who were the closest to him, were as unsafe as the meanest slave. For while an underling could be made away with quickly and at a word, the Emperor was no less willing to let his anger smolder through a long and carefully plotted revenge in the case of some person who might be next to him in rank. So there were mysterious things happening in the great stone palace, and White Wing observed soon after he came there that nobody seemed really to enjoy the wonderful splendors of the court itself but, on the contrary, they seemed always anxious to be in the parks or the city, or even out on the lonely plains around it, rather than in the vast rooms of stone and silver.

Nevertheless, White Wing had nothing to fear from the stalwart and imperious ruler, for the bird was truly his most treasured possession; and if he were in an evil mood, the Emperor would often betake himself to White Wing's splendid garden, and there he would toy with the bird, asking him many questions, and seeming always content to find his answer in the flamingo's sagacious looks, or a chance nod of the creature's head.

There were the troops of lovely children, too, whose quarters were a whole part of the palace itself, and these were a delight to White Wing, for they were gentle with him and fed him all sorts of dainties from their little brown hands.

Among these was a lovely little girl who grew to be a favorite of the Emperor's and was deeply attached to White Wing.

One day, to the latter's great distress, he saw traces of tears on the child's face as she came hurrying across the enclosed garden to the sunken pool where White Wing was looking down into the water at the gold fish. There happened to be no one in the great courtyard at that moment but the child and the stately bird. She looked around first, to be sure that what she was about to say would not be overheard.

"Oh, Prince of the Dawn, dear Prince," she began, "do you know what has happened? I have run away from the others just to tell you. It's the saddest thing in the world. The Emperor is sending all the children away to the farthermost corner of the land to keep them in hiding. And only the soldiers and the priests are to live here now. There is only one hour left, for down below the great walls there are thousands of bearers and mules laden with everything, and a whole army of escorts. Maybe we shall never come back."

Then she threw herself at White Wing's feet and clutched the flowers on the border of the fountain as she cried.

But this was only the beginning of the troubles in that great palace. What the princess had told White Wing explained much that he had observed, but what the child did not know, and what the Emperor feared the most, was the plotting that went on against his own life and the rivalries among his generals. The kingdom was being attacked to the eastward. Up that same valley that White Wing had followed in his flight, a terrible army was marching against the capital of this realm. It was an army of men from the other side of the world. Such conquerors they were as even the Emperor himself had never dreamed of.

But now excited slaves came rushing in and bore the child off. She had scarcely time to say farewell, and poor White Wing heard her sobs as they died away through the courtyards and arched corridors. Yes, his palace was being deserted, and he could walk through empty rooms and suddenly stilled hallways without meeting a soul. Everybody was in the lower courtyard watching the departure of the household.

But just as White Wing, much depressed and filled with wonder, came to a little doorway in a corner of the great upper hall, he heard voices. They were the Emperor's councilors, he knew, but why they should be there now when everybody was so busy elsewhere, he wondered. They were not talking as usual, but whispering, and a great curtain had been drawn across the doorway.

White Wing knew that the chamber was lighted by a window that opened to a tiny courtyard of its own. To reach this court without passing through the room was impossible to any one but such as White Wing. He could mount the walls by a short flight from the garden, and descend within the secret yard.

This he did, for he was bound to learn what the priests and councilors were up to. The Emperor was not with them, and he felt sure that it was something treacherous that they were doing.

He was just in time as he settled down on the stone copings outside the great window. First he looked to make sure that his shadow was not visible across the pavement. He was assured of his safety, and knew that his arrival there had not been betrayed by so much as a ruffle of his beautiful wings.

The voices were deciding the fate of the Emperor and of White Wing too. The priests were to tell the Emperor that he must sacrifice the thing that he loved the most and that he must do it with his own hand. And it was to be arranged that as he knelt at the great altar of black stone to kill the bird, an arrow should be sent from a secret place on the walls, so that the Emperor with his back turned to the court should perish then and there.

White Wing's blood ran cold. This, then, was why his great master had always been fearful and morose, and often cruel. His own house was full of men that hated him and were yet his own brothers. They were ready now, just as the kingdom was rallying to save itself, to seize it all into their own hands. They would be rid of him, and his mysterious bird too, for they feared in a childish way that White Wing had been sent to the Emperor by some divine agent, and they hated the innocent creature because they were both fearful and jealous of him.

They were now deciding which one of them should let fly the arrow which should kill the Emperor. White Wing could hear them rattling the jeweled discs or dice with which he had often seen them playing. Evidently the process of making the decision was a complicated one, for he heard the little carved discs rattling in their box a number of times. Then there was silence and a voice which he knew was that of the Emperor's half-brother spoke in clear tones:

"I am glad that it has fallen on me!"

Suddenly the sound of drums and horns and a great deal of shouting broke the silence. The Emperor had said farewell to his household, and in great clamor the slaves and the favorites and the troops of beautiful children were departing from the city. The Emperor's heralds were calling his councilors to the great audience chamber. White Wing heard the treacherous creatures scuttle from the little room in haste, and he heard the dice which they had been using rattle to the floor as they upset a table in their hurry to get out. Slowly and cautiously, he looked into the room. It was deserted. Then he went in and looked around him and picked up one of the little dice. It was a small, black jewel, curiously engraven. He tucked it under his wing and stalked quietly through the curtained doorway, and down the long corridor with its shadowy arches until it brought him to the sunny courts that bounded his own walled garden.

What he achieved by this simple act of sagacity is quickly told. The Emperor, who had known nothing of the secret council, guessed immediately that it had taken place when White Wing dropped the black counter at his feet. They were alone in the garden, and it was late in the evening. The bird little knew that this was not one of the gaming dice at all, but the sacred dice used to settle life and death decisions in the Emperor's secret debates with his court.

Puzzled as the Emperor was at first, he was not long in establishing his conclusions. He had just been told by the priests that he must sacrifice the white flamingo, and his half-brother had been alarmingly affectionate, having even caressed his shoulder as he thanked the great ruler for having placed him at the head of certain troops which were of the greatest importance in the forthcoming battles.

Then the Emperor knew what to do. He said nothing but was exceedingly watchful. Coming early in the morning to White Wing he bade the great bird good-by.

"You must fly over to your own people, dear bird," he said. "My enemies will eventually kill you if you do not go. And perhaps, when these great invaders have taken my city, I shall be reduced to slavery. You have been my greatest pleasure, and you have served here all that you were intended to. You have saved my life, for the scheme to kill me while I was to be offering you in sacrifice has all come out. I drew confession from certain of the councilors when I had them in the dungeons but an hour ago. Never would I have suspected them but for your wonderful means of warning me."

Then, in the earliest dawn, before the blazing sun had blanched the palace walls, White Wing soared slowly into the air, leaving the great Emperor standing alone by the deserted altar. There were no cheering crowds as there had been when he came to that terrible city, and in their stead were camps and tents and all the sights of preparing war upon the plains. But the Emperor's hands were upraised and his face was very splendid as he gazed off into the heavens whither his wonderful white flamingo was disappearing.

All that consoled the bird in the sorrow of leaving his master was the thought of having saved the great man's life. But for that, he would have died from misery, believing that he should have stayed there until his own life was taken. He little knew that thousands of his own kind were waiting for him. But such was the case, and he soon learned as he flew toward the setting sun, retracing his journey, that he was already the prince of birds. Whole flocks of beautiful parrots, and great orioles, and tropic thrushes would greet him and fly in hosts ahead of him. From the great city down through the wide valley and the dark forests to the coast, he traveled with couriers to tell all the birds of his coming. And as he passed, at last, out over the ocean to find the island whence he had come, there were flocks and flocks of flamingoes overtaking and surrounding him.

One strange thing he saw, and that was a fleet of ships with sails greater than ever he had dreamed of. These were galleons of the conquerors, come to destroy the city of barbaric splendors where White Wing had been a courtier. But he did not know this, and only marveled at the sight.

At last, when his escort had grown to such numbers that, flying as they did in single file, the line of birds seemed to arch the sky from east to west, he came to the coast which he knew to be his own. Then to the selfsame stretch of coral beach, where the palms were leaning over the dunes exactly as he had left them. With slackened speed and flying lower and lower until he caught the scent of the old familiar earth, he skimmed above the lagoon and was suddenly over his home! White Wing flew straight to his mother.

The thousand relatives and as many new ones were there too, and with the arrival of White Wing's friends, who had glided in, one after another, the confusion of greetings in Flamingotown was deafening.

From then until his death, which was not to be for many, many years, White Wing, whose adventures had become known until they were household words, was the ruler of all flamingoes everywhere.

That he was beneficent, you may be sure. And for one thing, quite the greatest thing in his life, he instituted a change in family life by decreeing that all the gentlemen should take their turn in helping the lady birds to hatch their eggs. It is from his reign that this admirable custom dates, as Mrs. Leatherback will assure you.

As for that generous lady, she came to have her part in the history of the times. For the great explorers who came to ravish the kingdom where White Wing received such honors, happened to take Mrs. Leatherback captive on one of the islands. They took her aboard ship and were all for taking her back with them to the great court of Spain. But even after they had branded her with the arms of the court of Castile and Aragon, and had secured her to the deck of the galleon, she eluded them and fell into the sea. Consequently she has lived these hundreds of years a member, as she is pleased to think, of the greatest court in Europe. She soon came in the round of her journeys to White Wing's island and there she visited him a long time. So they could recount their adventures; and he has never ceased to love her for the cheer she gave him that first night of his lonely journey. For her part, she is only too proud of her Prince Flamingo, as she calls him, thereby disputing honors with the gentle mother bird, who has always been too happy to talk much about her little White Wing.

So all the above is just as the Heron tells it. And he is the one who knows Mrs. Leatherback the best, and he has had it from her many times. Moreover, he always ends with the wish that in some way that old turtle could have the last desire of her life fulfilled. Strange as it may seem, she has never seen the wonderful device of the Spanish Arms which was branded and carved upon her back. It gives her a wry neck to attempt it and she has given up trying. So she always lives in hope of finding a looking-glass some day at the bottom of the sea.

But meanwhile she contents herself with getting her friends to tell her how it looks, and it is because the Heron is very particular to do this, and do it well, thereby making the old lady feel comfortable, that he can always get her to relate the story of Prince Flamingo.

XV

MOTHER FOX'S HOSPITAL

Virginia was a very little girl when she visited the home of the animals under the garnet hill. She was the only person who had ever been there, as the good Mrs. Fox assured her, and the only way, indeed, that she can prove that she had actually been there at all is to ask her pet cat, who accompanied her, whether it is all true or not. Always the cat blinks his eyes with the most knowing air, and nods his head. So that is proof enough.

Virginia was gathering blueberries and she had strayed farther and farther away from the farm house until she suddenly found that she could no longer see the top of the red chimney, nor the peak of the barn. Never had her little feet carried her so far into the pastures as this. To make it worse, she could not seem to find her way back. The low birch trees and the sweet fern seemed taller, and the light beneath them was not so warm and bright.

Virginia started to run, but she had taken only a few steps when she tripped and fell. It almost seemed that the briary vine in the grass had reached out and entangled her. But she was a brave little girl and would sooner do anything than cry out. It was discouraging to have all the berries in her pail spilled over the ground, but she set to work picking them out of the moss and leaves, while she kept wishing that somebody would come to help her.

Then she pricked her finger on a thorn. It was then, she knows, that she began to hear lovely voices; for no sooner had she felt the sharp scratch than she heard a sweet sighing song all around her.

Of all the wishes in her life the greatest was to know what the trees and the birds were saying. Now she knew.

For on all sides the voices were as sweet as music. "What pretty blue eyes she has!" and "How lovely her cheeks are!" and "Just see her golden hair!" were remarks she caught between the sounds of silvery laughter.

She jumped up, leaving her berries on the ground, and started again to run. For she was suddenly afraid of these voices, even though they were so sweet.

A familiar _Me-ew_ greeted her. It was her pet cat, Tiger, who then began talking to her as plainly as though he had been to school and could read and write.

"How fine this is!" he exclaimed. "To think you can hear at last!" and he went on explaining that no one had ever understood what he was saying before.

"How often," he purred, "have I followed you into the pasture, hoping that you would prick your finger on the right sort of thorn, so that at last we could talk things over! My, but won't all the world be glad to know of this!" he added. "Why, it doesn't happen once in a thousand years!"

With that the beautiful gray cat ran off into the woods, only to return accompanied by troops and troops of beautiful little creatures: the field mice, who didn't seem to object to the cat at all, and the squirrels, even the shiny moles, and some very excited birds, who flew round and round the little girl, calling her name, and telling her how they loved her.

Why she should have followed the cat into the woods, Virginia did not know, but he ran ahead and bade her follow, and she seemed only too willing to do so. The trees spoke so pleasantly as she passed them that it was impossible not to go on.

"How she does resemble her great-grandmother!" said one of the trees. It was an aged oak who had known Virginia's family ever since it had settled in those parts. She felt that she must stop and return the greetings, for she was always carefully polite to old people.

"Why, it was my little brother," the tree continued, "who was ordained to the ministry in your grandfather's church. Your grandfather did the preaching, and my brother held the floor up. He also was cut by the builders to carry the major load of the roof. You see I have known your family a long while. I am the oldest white oak in this woodland."

But before he could say another word, a beautiful red fox jumped out of the bushes and told the tree to stop talking.

"Don't weary that little girl with all your memories," Red Fox said. "If you get started, you'll never stop. And she has an invitation to Mother Fox's Hospital. She must come immediately."

All this was very strange. Virginia wished to talk to the good old oak some more, but Red Fox gave her a knowing look and held out his hand in such a cordial way, and so urgently, that she bade the venerable tree good-afternoon and ran to catch up with her new friend, who was already beckoning to her from some distance ahead. Bounding along the path beside her came Tiger Kitty, whom Virginia was indeed glad to have with her.

She was no longer on familiar ground. The woods were dense, and she felt that she was running a long way from home.

But suddenly Red Fox stopped. They had come to what appeared a jagged and moss-grown rock. It was the side of an old pit that had been dug into the shoulder of the hill, and at any other time Virginia would have remembered it as the old quarry where once she had been taken by her brothers and sisters on a picnic. But now she saw that it concealed in reality a doorway. Moss-grown and dark, the door was hardly discoverable, but it opened easily enough when Red Fox applied his key. And standing there to greet Virginia and Tiger Kitty was a wonderful old fox, with spectacles and a frilled bonnet and the kindliest face in the world.

"This is my mother," said Red Fox; "she's the matron."

"Yes," the good old soul admitted, "I am Mother Fox, and this charitable home for the destitute of the field and forest is named after me."

Virginia was embarrassed, but only for a minute, for sweet old Mother Fox invited her into the parlor and then, after she had been offered the most delicious of cakes, and the creamiest of milk, and had eaten a refreshing supper, she was shown through the home.

Living there was every poor animal that Virginia had ever known. And they were all in such supreme comfort and having such a good time that she was sure she had never seen so many people so happy all at once, never in her whole life.

"Our only discontented inmate is Mr. Wolf," said the matronly Mrs. Fox. "Would you like to see him?"

She led the way down a long hall to where Mr. Wolf was seated in a little room of his own, gnawing and snapping at his nurses, who were none other than the hedgehog and the big snapping turtle.

"Two rather sharp people for nurses," Red Fox remarked, almost in apology; "but you see it takes some one with a good deal of character to handle him."

In a great room which was a dining-hall, with high tables for the big animals, and low ones for the little folk, she saw the animals that were privileged to be there eating the most tempting dishes. There was lettuce salad for the rabbits, and corn-bread for the field mice, and blackberry pudding for the whole partridge family, and persimmon jam for the 'possums, and even lily roots creamed and on toast for the poor old muskrats.

"All charity," said Red Fox. "All charity! Out in the world every one of these poor animals was cruelly hurt, or starved. Of course, we're hunted and stoned, and chased, and shot at. That's all men want--a chance to kill us. Here's where we take care of our cripples and paupers."

Virginia was wonderstruck and was about to ask a question, when a lame but beautiful lady tapped Mother Fox's shoulder and asked her to introduce the visitor.

"Oh, surely! Pardon me, Lady Orchid."

Lady Orchid put the sweetest, tenderest hand into Virginia's, and the little girl looked into the loveliest flower face in the world.

"I'm Lady Arethusa," the wonderful creature breathed, as she curtsied very low to the little girl. "You see I'm crippled. I was pulled up by the roots in such a careless way. You did it yourself, if you remember, only the other day."

The little girl wanted to cry, but the lovely orchid repented having come too close to the truth, and quickly added:

"No; it was your brother, possibly. At any rate, I beg you never to pull any of us out in that violent way again. I am sure we all love you too much. We Arethusas have lived on your place a great many years. The small white violets, by the way, that live by the door-step at your home, tell me that they can't get close enough to you and your sweet mother, they love you so. And there is a lovely begonia living here whom your mother lost, despite her care. Some one neglected it, and it died of thirst. Your mother was visiting at the time, I believe."

"Yes," said Mother Fox; "that is so often the case. Fathers and brothers are very careless in such matters. They are not so tender as a rule with their plant cousins under their roof."

Then, as they left the dining-room, where the animals were just reaching the dessert, who should come flying up to Virginia but a beautiful oriole. He too, it seems, knew the little girl.

"Yes, indeed, dear child," he sang out to her; "I have known you a long time. I live in the elm-tree. And I want to thank you for those lovely threads that you put out on the lawn for me when I was refurnishing my house. I am here to call on some relatives, but I will sing to you by your window in the morning."

Then Virginia remembered that a ball of beautiful worsted had been missing from her mother's work-basket after it had been left on the porch. This explained it all. She was astonished, but the gray cat laughed out merrily:

"Yes, he stole it; but the dear bird thinks you left it there for him. If you look out of the attic window when we get home you can see his nest in the elm. It's mostly blue worsted."

"Why didn't you tell me before, if you knew it?" Virginia asked, really grieved at Tiger Kitty's lack of confidence.

"Why," repeated the cat, and then he only smiled very broadly, "because you were always deaf, my dear."