Part 10

"Done!" shouted Red Rex. "Here is my hand on it!" And he shook hands first with the Lord Mayor, then with the Librarian, then with the other Leading Citizens. Harold and his chums were standing modestly a little way apart. He called the boy to his side and laid an arm affectionately about his shoulder. "Here is your true peacemaker," said Red Rex. "If Harold had not been so good a reader, I should never have been here in peace with you at this moment. To Harold and his books I owe the vision of what a library really is."

"Your Majesty," said Harold promptly, "will you also shake hands with Richard and Robert? It will make them very proud."

"That will I!" cried Red Rex. And he not only shook hands, but clapped the boys on the shoulder, calling each by name; which was a thing for them to remember all their lives.

"Now!" announced the Red King, taking a large seal ring from his finger and handing it to his soldier who bore the flag of truce. "Take this ring, and go back to my army; bid the generals lead their men home, and busy themselves in some useful work until my return. For as for me, I shall remain for a space in this peaceful city, in this peaceful Kingdom, to learn something further of its ways and wonders, which interest me hugely."

The soldier saluted and retired. And shortly after was heard beyond the walls the _tramp, tramp_ of a retreating army. The Red King was alone in Kisington, among the books.

Little cared he for what went on outside. He was carried away by the fascination of a world new to him. The Librarian led him from room to room, from stack to stack, from shelf to shelf of tempting books. The Red King was fairly bewildered by the opportunities offered. He wanted to read all the volumes at once.

"I never dreamed there were so many books in the world!" he cried. "How can a man live long enough to read them all, if he does nothing else all his days?"

"Do you wonder we have no time for war, Your Majesty?" asked the Librarian.

"No more war for me!" declared Red Rex. They had reached a division of the books labeled in huge letters OUTLAND TALES. The Red King laid his hand upon a volume bound in green-and-silver, like ice. "This has a tempting look," said Red Rex. "Are these also Chronicles of Kisington?"

"Yes, in a sense," answered the Librarian. "The deeds here recorded happened not in our Kingdom; yet, being tales gathered by our forbears in their travels around the world, to and from Kisington, they had a part in our history. They helped our fathers the better to understand and sympathize with the stranger, and so made for the peace which they loved."

"This is a story for me," declared Red Rex, who had been peeping into the ice-bound volume. "I would fain hear another tale interpreted by my little friend. Harold, will you read me this story, as you have read so many ere now? I long to hear your pleasant voice again."

"I will read whatever Your Majesty wishes," replied Harold. "Shall we go into this alcove where we shall be quite undisturbed and undisturbing?"

"By all means," said Red Rex. And here, in a cozy comer under one of the great windows, with Richard and Robert on either side of him, Harold read to the delighted King the Icelandic tale of _The Bear's Daughter_.

XX: THE BEAR'S DAUGHTER

Once upon a time, on an island far to the north of Kisington, whither only the bravest sailors dared to venture, lived a boy named Hans. They called him Hans the Hunter, because he loved so much to hunt and fish. He was a tall, brave, and sturdy lad, and he loved his life and was proud of his nickname. He had a hard spot in his heart, or he would not have been a hunter.

One day Hans went out with two other lads to hunt. It was in the early spring, the season when the ice breaks up in the rivers and begins to move seaward, like the hearts of men. The three wandered for many miles over the ice and snow until they came to the frozen bed of a river; but they did not know it was a river, the water of it flowed so far below the cakes of ice which concealed it, while over all was a thick crust of snow.

At this spot Hans the Hunter, who was after big game, left the others and started toward the south. Presently in the snow his sharp eyes spied the tracks of a huge bear. He was greatly delighted, and began to follow the slot so eagerly that he hardly marked where he was going. But all on a sudden he felt an unsteady motion under his feet. The ground seemed slipping beneath him. The snow parted and the ice cracked, and he spied blue water in the gaps between. Then he realized that he was upon a river, afloat upon a cake of ice!

Hans was greatly terrified, and made haste to leap upon a larger floe, for the former was too small to hold his weight, and threatened to turn upside down. Still he was in great danger; for before he knew it the river had carried him out into a bay of floating ice, far from the steady land. To and fro he leaped on his long legs, over the moving mass, hoping to find a way of escaping back to the shore. But presently he saw to his horror that he was rapidly floating out to the ocean upon a huge ice-floe, which was fast separating from the others. He was adrift upon a barren island of ice!

Scarcely had he had time to realize this, when Hans had another shock. As he came around a huge pillar of ice, he almost stumbled upon a huge white bear lying asleep upon her side. It must have been the very same bear whose tracks had led Hans into danger, and which he had quite forgotten. With a hunter's instinct Hans raised his gun to shoot her. But at the moment, before he pulled the trigger, the bear opened her eyes and spoke to him; and it did not seem so very strange to hear her speak his own language.

"Why do you seek to kill me?" she said piteously. "I have done no harm to you, Hans the Hunter. Moreover, if you kill me you will yourself die of cold within a few hours. If you lie down upon the ice to sleep you will freeze to death. But if you rest against my thick fur I will keep you warm. O man! Why must we be enemies? We are bound on a dangerous sea voyage together. Be my friend! Catch fish for me, so that we shall not starve. So, helping one another, we shall live comfortably on this floating home until we are able to go ashore."

"Gladly will I do what you say," agreed Hans the Hunter, for he saw that her words were wise.

After that Hans and the bear became partners. By day, with the tackle which he always carried in his wallet, Hans fished for their dinner; and, indeed, the bear's huge appetite kept him busy! By night he snuggled against the warm fur of his neighbor and slept soundly, not feeling the cold. So they kept their bargain.

Many days went by, and the bear came to love Hans dearly. Indeed, he liked her, too. But Hans loved himself better, for he was a selfish lad.

One morning Hans awoke with a start, conscious of an unusual movement near him. The bear was stirring uneasily in her sleep. But something else close beside him writhed and wriggled. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Nestled against the bear's white fur was a tiny newborn child, a beautiful baby girl. Hans sat up and stared at the prodigy. What did it mean? Where did the baby come from? At last an idea came to him.

"Oho!" he said to himself. "Now I know what it all means! This is the Enchanted Bear of whom I have heard so much,--the great White Bear of the North. That is why she could talk to me, and why I could understand. That is why her newborn cub is a human child, _until she looks at it_. Mistress Bear has not yet seen her little one. Ho! What a prize for a hunter to take home! This enchanted bear-baby will remain human, if I can steal her away where her mother will never set eyes on her. That will be something to show the other fellows, I should say!"

On the preceding night Hans had noted that the ice-floe was approaching nearer to the land. This morning they were very close to shore. Many ice-cakes floated about, and by jumping from one to another long-legged Hans knew that he could make the land. Very gently he took the little white baby, so soft and warm, in his great hands and wrapped it under his coat, so that the old bear should not see it. Then silently and stealthily he prepared to depart. But when he moved away from her side the old bear wakened suddenly and called after him,--

"Where are you going, friend Hans? What are you doing with my little cub that I have never seen?" Hans did not stop to explain, but clasping the baby tightly, darted off over the ice-field toward the land. Surprised and fearful, the old bear rose and looked after him with wide eyes of reproach. Then when she realized what he meant to do, she shook herself with a mighty roar, and her eyes grew bright and fierce. She started in pursuit.

It was a terrible chase! Hans was swift-footed; but after all the ice was not his natural ground. The bear who had seemed so clumsy traveled over the ice with miraculous speed, as polar bears do. Hans heard her panting behind him, drawing nearer and nearer, and his heart sank low. He knew how sharp her claws were, and how strong her teeth. She was gaining upon him; but he would not give up the baby. The hard spot in his heart grew harder. Burdened as he was, he turned about and raising his gun fired it at the bear. His aim was good,--for was he not Hans the Hunter? With a moan the great bear fell, and he saw a stream of blood dye the ice-floe which he had so long shared with her as a home.

Hans did not pause to mourn over the faithful friend who had kept him alive and warm for so many nights; but leaving her on the ice to die, sped shoreward with his burden, jumping lightly from cake to cake of ice until he reached the land.

After wandering about for some time Hans found a deserted fisherman's hut, where he built a fire and cherished the baby which he had stolen. The little thing seemed to thrive under his clumsy care. He tarried in the hut for some days, managing to get food for the baby and himself. Then he took the child and made his way inland until he came to a little village. He found that it was miles and miles from his former home; but the people were kind and urged him to stay. So Hans decided to settle down and live here, practicing his trade as a hunter, and earning enough to keep himself and the child in comfort. And every day the stolen baby grew dearer and dearer to Hans the Hunter.

Years went by. Hans became a big man, the mightiest, most famous hunter in all the countryside. Presently the little girl was grown up, too. And she had become the most beautiful tiny maiden in the land. Her name was Ursula, which means "Little Bear-Girl," though no one knew why Hans had given her this name. Folk supposed that she was called after the holy Saint Ursula. Hans, as you may guess, never told the lass about her bear-mother whom he had so cruelly wronged.

Hans loved Ursula so dearly that he hoped some day she would become his little wife. For a long time Ursula laughed and put him off; but at last she consented.

One fine day they drove to Church and were married. After the wedding all the village folk crowded around the sleigh in which Hans was to carry his young bride home, and wished the couple joy and good luck. For everybody liked big Hans, who was cruel only to animals; and they adored his little Ursula, who was cruel to nobody. She looked very pretty as she sat beside Hans, all pink and white and smiling, wrapped from head to foot in snowy furs which Hans had given her for a wedding present. Merrily they waved good-bye to the crowd as they drove away. And every one said, "Was there ever seen a handsomer, finer couple?"

It was a gay, long ride home through the forest, and the pair were very happy. The sun shone dazzlingly on the jeweled snow, and the evergreens sparkled with icicles. The little brook, hidden under the ice, peeped at them through sundry chinks here and there, chuckling merrily as he ran. The sleigh-bells jingled heartily and the horse pranced as if he, too, shared the joy of that happy wedding day.

Suddenly, as they came out into an open space, the horse stopped short with a frightened snort, and stood gazing with wild eyes, trembling in every limb. Something huge and terrible blocked the road. In the middle of the way stood a great white bear, upright upon her hind legs.

Hans recognized her at once; it was his old friend whom he had betrayed! After all, she was not dead, as he had hoped, but after twenty years had come back to confront him. She was staring fixedly at Hans,--she had not yet seen little Ursula muffled in her furs. With a cry Hans threw himself between his young bride and this terrible sight.

"Come to me, my Daughter, my Cub!" cried the mother-bear in a deep voice. "Come to me!"

Ursula gave a strange, wild cry and struggled in the arms of Hans. "What is it?" she said. "Oh, what is it? I must see!"

At the same moment her voice died away into a low whine, then rose into a howl such as an animal gives in pain. Struggling from her husband's arms she leaped from the sleigh.

Instantly Hans followed, holding out his arms piteously and calling, "Ursula! Ursula!"

But the white, furry figure did not hear. It was hurrying forward toward the great bear.

"Come to me, my Child!" said the bear again. "Leave the wicked man who betrayed his friend and sought to kill her. Come, let us punish him!"

Her words ended in a fierce growl, which was echoed by the other white figure, as she turned about and looked at Hans. And oh, what was this! With horror he saw that his little bride had, indeed, turned into a furry white bear. Her eyes burned red and angry as she looked at him, and she showed her teeth as if her mother's words had turned all her love of Hans into hatred, for the old bear's sake.

She seemed about to spring upon Hans and tear him to pieces. But suddenly her look changed. She folded her paws upon her furry breast, and Hans saw tears, human tears, come into the little bear's eyes. It was the last token of her human life, the last gleam of her fondness for him. She could not punish him as her mother bade. She would not let evil happen to him, even though he had done such a cruel wrong, because she had once been his little Ursula.

Dropping upon all fours she ran toward her mother, and they laid noses together for their first caress. She seemed to say something to the old bear in a silent language, which was answered by a deep, sullen growl. After this, without a further glance at Hans, the two bears turned about and trotted away together into the forest. Hans the Hunter never saw them again.

But after that the gun of Hans hung rusty on the wall of his lonely hut. The hard spot in his heart had melted.

XXI

RED REX AND KING VICTOR

Hardly had Harold finished speaking these last words in the tragic story of the Bear's Daughter, when there arose from the market-place such a hubbub and commotion that the Red King's comments on the tale were quite lost. Voices were shouting and cheering; trumpets were blowing and drums beating; over the clang of weapons and neighing of horses one caught the _tramp, tramp_ of marching feet.

Red Rex sprang to his feet, drawing his sword and growing very red in the face. Once again he was the fierce and terrible War-Lord. But Harold did not notice. He was too much excited at the tumult going on outside. He ran hastily to the window and looked out. The square was full of soldiers and banners and gayly decked horses. Men-at-arms crowded the side streets, pouring continuously into the square. The ruined porch of the library was crowded. A guard stood at the portal.

In the center of the square, bestriding a white horse, sat a stately figure, dressed all in white armor. His snowy head was uncovered and he spoke to the cheering people smilingly.

A great shout arose as he finished his speech. "Long live our good King Victor!"

Harold joined in the shout. "Hurrah! Hurrah!"

And Robert and Richard, scrambling up beside him, echoed the cheer,--"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live King Victor!"

"Our good King has come to Kisington at last!" cried Harold, turning back into the library.

He had quite forgotten his warlike guest and why King Victor had come to Kisington. Indeed, for the moment every one seemed to have forgotten Red Rex. The Librarian, the Lord Mayor, and the other Leading Citizens had disappeared, and the library seemed quite empty. But in one corner of the alcove where the last story had been read, Red Rex was standing at bay. He had drawn up before him a heavy table, behind which he stood, sword in hand, one foot advanced, his red beard bristling.

"Yes, I am trapped!" snarled Red Rex. "You have caught me, boy. But you shall pay for this!"

Harold and the Red King stood staring at one another. The _tramp, tramp_ of feet sounded on the staircase, coming nearer. Along the hall came the tread. The door of the hall opened, and a martial group crossed the threshold. Foremost came their King, King Victor himself, the splendid, white-haired peace hero. The three boys dropped each on one knee before him.

For a moment the King stood gazing about him mildly, without speaking. He was tall and stately, but his eyes were kind, even merry, and with all his dignity there was nothing to strike fear even into the heart of a child. Presently his eyes caught the figure of the trapped War-Lord, barricaded and at bay in the corner.

He stepped forward with a friendly air and held out his hand. "Welcome, Cousin!" he said in a hearty voice.

Red Rex glared at him, fairly bristling with rage. "Do not mock me!" he blustered. "I know well enough that I have been trapped and that the word of the Lord Mayor of this town, given to me, will not count now. But you shall not take me alive. I will slay the first who lays hand on me!" He waved his sword furiously. Harold had never seen him look so terrible.

"Nay, nay!" cried King Victor mildly. "You mistake, indeed, Cousin!"

But the enraged Red King would not listen, and went on with his wild accusations.

"I have been trapped by children!" he raged. "Delayed by tales! Deceived by promises! I trusted all these and disbanded my army, fool that I was! But take me if you can!" Again he flourished his sword and ground his teeth.

King Victor stood looking at the War-Lord without speaking. At last he raised his hand with a grand gesture and said with emphasis and sincerity, "You are making a great mistake, Cousin! You are not trapped. The promise of the Lord Mayor is sacred. In my land a word is as good as a treaty. You are quite free to go, if you list. But, indeed, we hope you will deign to stay, as our honored guest. It is the first time you have graced our Kingdom with your presence, Cousin. We long to be friends with you; to see lasting peace between our neighboring lands."

"You come with an army," retorted Red Rex sullenly. "You came in response to summons. You came to combat me."

"That is true," assented King Victor. "When we heard that Kisington was besieged, we gathered together our peaceful army and hastened hither in the interests of peace. But we arrive to find, instead of a bloody siege, a peaceful King enjoying this library. We hasten to add our own welcome to that of Kisington's Leading Citizens. We invite you to remain, Cousin, and enjoy not only these but other treasures of our Kingdom which it may be to your advantage to know better."

"If my army had not disbanded," blustered the War-Lord, "you would not be speaking to me so debonairly."

"Maybe not, maybe not!" agreed King Victor.

"Yet, our volunteer police force embraces every citizen of our Kingdom. We should have surrounded you without trouble or bloodshed, Cousin. We could have persuaded your army by sheer force of numbers and opinion, without doubt. But let us not think of that. Let us rather consider the pleasanter things which surround us. Shall we not be friends, Cousin? We know your Kingdom well. We have read and studied about it thoroughly in our books. We have, indeed, traveled all over it in peaceful disguise. Come, you ought to become as well acquainted with ours; then I am sure we should never misunderstand one another again. Say, Cousin Rex, shall it be?"

He advanced a step nearer the other, holding out his hand and smiling genially. His sincerity was plain.

The War-Lord dropped his sword. "I believe you!" he cried, stepping forward and grasping the proffered hand. "Cousin, Neighbor, let there be peace between our whole kingdoms; even as we promised between myself and Kisington."

"So be it!"

The two monarchs embraced in kingly fashion, and sat down in a retired alcove for a pleasant chat.

It was not long before Harold was summoned to the pair. King Victor received him kindly, and Red Rex grinned. "We have heard the tale of your service to the State and to our Royal Friend, Harold," said King Victor graciously. "We would fain give you a suitable reward, my brave Bookworm. What shall it be? Tell me your wish."

Harold flushed and stammered. "I do not wish a reward for the little I did, Sire," he said. "I had no thought of that. Indeed, it was a pleasure to read for His Majesty."

"Yea, so we believe!" smiled the King. "Yet some reward we owe for your true office. What shall it be?"

Harold hesitated, thinking. "Truly, for myself I ask nothing," he said. "Yet, perhaps, Sire, you would help my mother, my dear mother, so that she need not work so hard while I am learning to be a scholar."

"It shall be so!" cried the King. "She shall have a little maid to help her; money to pay the rent, buy food and clothes and modest pleasures. These shall she have. But for yourself, Harold? We must show you some special favor, for our own comfort."

"Well," said Harold, "one thing I scarcely dare to ask. But I should like more time to read in the library while His Majesty is here. Maybe I could serve him better if I had not to go to school these days. May the school children have a vacation of a week, Sire?"

"A fortnight!" cried King Victor, beaming. "It is the very pith of our talk, my boy. For a week the King our Cousin is fain to tarry in Kisington, and he asks no better than yourself to be his guide, philosopher, and friend. Then for a week he will be my guest, traveling with me over the Kingdom, visiting certain places whereabout you have made him curious by your stories. He asks that you may go as his page. Both these things are possible if we grant the school a fortnight's recess. It shall be done. But still, this is little reward for your wise doings, my boy. Ask something more."

"Then, Sire, I beg this," said Harold, with shining eyes. "Let Robert and Richard go with me as assistant pages. That will be a merry vacation for us all; no better boon could I ask!"

The King laughed merrily. "A boy's wish!" he said, "but it shall be granted. Now, come hither, Harold." With these words King Victor threw over the boy's shoulders a heavy gold chain with a cross hanging from it. "'Blessed are the peacemakers,'" quoted King Victor. "Wear this, Harold, a token from your grateful country. And with it goes the gift of a hundred books, which you shall choose for yourself, to be the beginning of a library of your own,--Book Wizard, as they call you!"

The bells of Kisington began to peal gayly and continuously, a triple rejoicing. The beloved King being in town was sufficient reason for festival. Therefore,--_Ding dong!_ Peace was declared forever between the two neighboring nations. Therefore, _Ding dong! Ding dong!_ A holiday for the school children of Kisington, Harold's friends. Therefore,--_Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!_

Harold went home to his mother with the glad news. And proud enough she was of her lad when she heard why all the bells were ringing, and saw his golden cross.

XXII: THE BOOKS CONQUER

Thus began the wonderful fortnight of vacation that Harold and Robert and Richard never forgot in all their lives.