“It is very kind of you to remember our wish,” said Twinkle. “We are all ready.”
So they flew above the tree-tops and began their journey toward the center of the forest.
“Where’s your p’liceman’s hat and club?” Chubbins asked the bluejay.
“Why, I left them at home,” was the reply. “I’m not on official duty today, you know, and the Guardian does not like to see anything that looks like a weapon. In his country there are no such things as quarrels or fighting, or naughtiness of any sort; for as they have everything they want there is nothing to quarrel over or fight for. The Birds of Paradise have laws, I understand; but they obey them because they are told to, and not because they are forced to. It would be a bad country for a policeman to live in.”
“But a good place for everyone else,” said Twinkle.
“Perhaps so,” agreed the policeman, reluctantly. “But I sometimes think the goody-goody places would get awful tiresome to live in, after a time. Here in our part of the forest there is a little excitement, for the biggest birds only obey our laws through fear of punishment, and I understand it is just the same in the world of men. But in the Birds’ Paradise there lives but one race, every member of which is quite particular not to annoy any of his fellows in any way. That is why they will admit no disturbing element into their country. If you are admitted, my dears, you must be very careful not to offend any one that you meet.”
“We’ll try to be good,” promised Chubbins.
“I would not dare to take any of my own people there,” continued the bluejay, flying swiftly along as they talked together; “but you two are different, and more like the fairy Birds of Paradise themselves than like our forest birds. That is the reason I feel sure the Guardian will admit you.”
“I’m naughty sometimes, and so is Chubbins,” said Twinkle, honestly. “But we try not to be any naughtier than we can help.”
“I am sure you will behave very nicely,” replied the bluejay.
After a time the rosy glow appeared reflected in the blue sky, and as they flew toward it the soft and delightful radiance seemed to grow and deepen in intensity. It did not dazzle their eyes in the least, but as the light penetrated the forest and its furthest rays fell upon the group, they experienced a queer sense of elation and light-hearted joy.
But now the breeze freshened and grew more strong, pressing against their feathered breasts so gently yet powerfully that they soon discovered they were not advancing at all, but simply fluttering in the air.
“Drop down to the ground,” whispered the bluejay; and they obeyed his injunction and found that close to the earth the wind was not so strong.
“That is a secret I learned some time ago,” said their friend. “Most birds who seek to enter the Paradise try to beat against the wind, and are therefore always driven back; but there is just one way to approach the Guardian near enough to converse with him. After that it depends entirely upon his good-will whether you get any farther.”
The wind still blew so strongly that it nearly took their breath away, but by creeping steadily over the ground they were able to proceed slowly, and after a time the pressure of the wind grew less and less, until it suddenly ceased altogether.
Then they stopped to rest and to catch their breaths, but before this happened Twinkle and Chubbins both uttered exclamations of amazement at the sight that met their eyes.
Before them was a grove composed of stately trees not made of wood, but having trunks of polished gold and silver and leaves of exquisite metallic colorings. Beneath the trees was a mass of brilliant flowers, exceedingly rare and curious in form, and as our little friends looked upon them these flowers suddenly began a chant of greeting and then sang a song so sweet and musical that the lark-children were entranced and listened in rapt delight.
When the song ended the flowers all nodded their heads in a pretty way, and Twinkle drew a long breath and murmured:
“Isn’t it odd to hear flowers sing? I’m sure the birds themselves cannot beat that music.”
“They won’t try,” replied the policeman, “for Birds of Paradise do not sing.”
“How strange!” exclaimed the girl.
“The land they live in is so full of music that they do not need to,” continued the bluejay. “But before us is the entrance, leading through the limbs of that great golden tree you see at the left. Fly swiftly with me, and perch upon the middle branch.”
With these words he darted toward the tree, and Twinkle and Chubbins followed. In a few seconds they alighted upon the branch and found themselves face to face with the first Bird of Paradise they had yet seen.
He possessed a graceful carriage and a most attractive form, being in size about as large as a common pigeon. His eyes were shrewd but gentle in expression and his pose as he stood regarding the newcomers was dignified and impressive. But the children had little time to note these things because their wondering eyes were riveted upon the bird’s magnificent plumage. The feathers lay so smoothly against his body that they seemed to present a solid surface, and in color they were a glistening emerald green upon the neck and wings, shading down on the breast to a softer green and then to a pure white. The main wing-feathers were white, tipped with vivid scarlet, and the white feathers of his crest were also tipped with specks of flame. But his tail feathers were the most beautiful of all his gay uniform. They spread out in the shape of a fan, and every other feather was brilliant green and its alternate feather snow white.
“How lovely!” cried Twinkle, and the bird bowed its head and with a merry glance from its eyes responded:
“Your admiration highly honors me, little stranger.”
“This,” said Policeman Bluejay, “is the important official called the Guardian of the Entrance of Paradise. Sir Guardian, permit me to introduce to you two children of men who have been magically transformed into skylarks against their will. They are not quite birds, because their heads retain the human shape; but whatever form they may bear, their natures are sweet and innocent and I deem them worthy to associate for a brief time with your splendid and regal race. Therefore I have brought them here to commend them to your hospitality and good-will, and I hope you will receive them as your guests.”
“What are your names, little strangers?” asked the Guardian.
“Mama calls me Twinkle,” said the girl.
“I’m Chubbins,” said the boy.
The Guardian looked attentively at the bluejay.
“You know our regulations,” said he; “no birds of the forest are admitted to our Paradise.”
“I know,” replied the policeman. “I will await my little friends here. It is pleasure enough for me to have just this glimpse of your beautiful fairyland.”
The Guardian nodded his approval of this speech.
“Very well,” he answered, “you shall remain and visit with me. If all forest birds were like you, my friend, there would be little danger in admitting them into our society. But they are not, and the laws must be regarded. As for the child-larks, I will send them first to the King, in charge of the Royal Messenger, whom I will now summon.”
He tossed his head upward with an abrupt motion, and in the tree-top a chime of golden bells rang musically in the air. The flowers beneath them caught up the refrain, and sang it softly until another bird came darting through the air and alighted on the golden limb beside the Guardian.
The newcomer was differently garbed from the other. His plumage was orange and white, the crest and wing-feathers being tipped with bright blue. Nor was he so large as the Guardian, nor so dignified in demeanor. Indeed, his expression was rather merry and roguish, and as he saw the strangers he gave a short, sharp whistle of surprise.
“My dear Ephel,” said the Guardian, “oblige me by escorting these child-larks to the presence of his Majesty the King.”
“I am delighted to obey your request,” answered Ephel the Messenger, brightly. Then, turning to Twinkle and Chubbins, he added: “I trust you will
find my society agreeable during our flight to the royal monarch of Paradise.”
Twinkle was too much embarrassed by this politeness to answer at once, but Chubbins said “Sure thing!” in a matter-of-fact voice, and the Messenger nodded gaily and continued:
“Then we will go, if it pleases you.”
He spread his wings in a flash of color and sped away into the Paradise, and the children eagerly followed him.
CHAPTER XIII
The King Bird
More and more magnificence was unfolded as they advanced into this veritable fairyland of the birds. Vines of silver climbed up the golden trunks of trees and mingled their twining threads with the brilliant leaves. And now upon the trees appeared jewelled blossoms that sparkled most exquisitely in the rosy-hued radiance that, in this favored spot, had taken the place of sunshine. There were beds of plants with wide-spreading leaves that changed color constantly, one hue slowly melting into another and no two leaves on the same plant having the same color at the same time. Yet in spite of the vivid coloring that prevailed everywhere, each combination seemed in perfect harmony and served to delight the senses.
Bushes that emitted a grateful fragrance bore upon slender branches little bells that at times tinkled in the perfumed breeze and played sweet melodies, while here and there were clusters of fountain-lilies that shot sprays of crystal water high into the air. When the water fell back again and the drops struck against the broad leaves of the plants, they produced a melodious sound that was so delightful that Twinkle thought she could listen to it for hours.
Their guide flew silently on, and the two children were so much amazed by their surroundings that they had no words for questions or even remarks.
The scene was ever shifting and becoming more and more lovely and fascinating, and the paradise was more extensive than they had thought it.
By and bye Ephel the Messenger approached the central part, where was a great arbor thickly covered with masses of pure white flowers. Some of these were large, like chrysanthemums and mammoth white double roses, while among them were twined smaller and more delicate blossoms, like the bells of lilies-of-the-valley.
Ephel entered the arch of the arbor and flew on, for it was of great extent and continually enlarged from the point of entrance, so that at last the child-larks found themselves in a lofty circular chamber banked on sides and roof with solid masses of the snow-white flowers, which filled the air with a sweet and agreeable perfume. The floor was also a mass of white blossoms, so that the place resembled the inside of a huge cornucopia.
But the eyes of the little strangers were not directed so much to the arbor itself as to the group of splendid birds that occupied the flower-chamber and perched upon a wide-spreading bush of filigree gold that rose from the middle of the floor and spread its dainty branches in every direction.
On the lower branches sat many birds of marvellous colorings, some having blue the predominant tint in their feathers, and others green, or scarlet, or brilliant yellows. In strong contrast with these were a few modest-looking birds with soft brown feathers covering their graceful forms, that sat silently upon the lowest and most retired branch of the golden bush; but still greater was the contrast of all present with the magnificence of the one occupying the topmost branch.
This gorgeous creature, whose splendor dominated the white bower, at once won the children’s attention, and they had no doubt they were gazing upon the King Bird of Paradise.
The feathers of his head and neck were so fine that they looked like a covering of velvet. These seemed to be, at first, of a delicate lavender color, but the children observed that they shone with a different tint at every movement the King made. The body feathers, also as glossy as velvet, were of a rich royal purple, shading to lavender and then to white upon his breast. His wing plumes were white, tipped with specks of lustrous gold.
But by far the most astonishing part of the King’s plumage was that which consisted of the dainty, fern-like plumes that rose from his body and tail and spread in graceful and bewildering curves both right and left, until his form seemed to be standing in a feathery bower of resplendent beauty. All the colors of the rainbow were seen in these delicate feathers, and against the white background of the arch this monarch of the feathered world appeared more royally magnificent than any words can describe.
Both Twinkle and Chubbins gasped with amazement and delight as, at the command of Ephel, they alighted upon a lowly branch of the golden bush and bowed their heads before the ruler of the birds’ fairyland.
“Ah, whom have we here?” asked the King, in a soft voice, as he strutted and proudly turned himself upon his perch.
“Strangers, your Majesty,” answered the Messenger. “They are sent to you by the Guardian of the Entrance because they are gentle and innocent, and are neither birds nor mortals, but a part of both.”
“They are certainly very curious,” remarked the King, staring at the human heads upon the lark bodies. “May I ask you, little strangers, how you happen to exist in your present form?”
Twinkle, tossing her head to throw back a straggling lock of hair that had fallen across her eyes, began in her sweet voice to tell the story of their enchantment, and not only the King but all the Birds of Paradise present listened intently to her words.
When she had finished the King exclaimed:
“Indeed, my dear child-larks, you are worthy to be our guests in fairyland. So it will please me if you will be as happy and comfortable as possible, and enjoy your stay with us as much as you can. My people will delight to honor and amuse you, and Ephel shall continue to guide you wherever you go.”
“Thank you,” returned Twinkle, earnestly; and Chubbins added, in his blunt way: “Much obliged.”
“But, before you go,” continued his Majesty, “tell me what you think of my royal person. Am I not beautiful?”
“You are, indeed,” replied Twinkle; “only — ”
“Only what?” asked the King, as she hesitated.
“Only I’m sorry you are so vain, and strut around so, and want everyone to see how beautiful you are.”
“Why should I not? Is not vanity one of the great virtues?” asked the King, in a surprised voice.
“My mama says people ought not to think themselves nice, or pretty,” said the child. “With us, to be vain is a fault, and we are taught to be modest and unassuming.”
“How remarkable!” exclaimed the King. “And how very thoughtless your mother must be. Here we think that if God creates us beautiful it is a sin not to glory in His work, and make everyone acknowledge the kindly skill of the Supreme Maker’s hand. Should I try to make others think, or should I myself think, that I am not most gracefully formed and most gorgeously clothed, I would be guilty of the sin of not appreciating the favor of God, and deserve to be punished.”
Twinkle was amazed, but could find no words to contradict this astonishing idea.
“I had not thought of it in that way,” she answered. “Perhaps I am wrong, your Majesty; and certainly you are very beautiful.”
“Think it over,” said the King, graciously. “Learn to be grateful for every good thing that is yours, and proud that you have been selected by Nature for adornment. Only in this way may such rare favors be deserved. And now the royal Messenger will show you the sights of our Paradise, and try to entertain you pleasantly while you are our guests.”
He turned aside, with these words, and fluttered his waving feathers so that their changing tints might dazzle the eyes of all observers. But immediately afterward he paused and cried out:
“Dear me! One of my wing plumes is disarranged. Help me, you ladies!”
At once the small brown birds on the lower branches, who had been modestly quiet because they had no gay plumage, flew up to the King and with their bills skillfully dressed his feathers, putting the wing plume into its place again and arranging it properly, while the other birds looked on with evident interest.
As the lark-children turned away
to follow the Messenger Chubbins remarked:
“I’m glad I haven’t got all those giddy feathers.”
“Why?” asked Twinkle, who had been rather awed by the King’s splendor.
“Because it would take all my time to keep ‘em smooth,” answered the boy. “The poor King can’t do much more than admire himself, so he don’t get time to have fun.”
CHAPTER XIV
A Real Fairyland
As they left the royal arbor of white flowers the Messenger turned to the left and guided his guests through several bright and charming avenues to a grove of trees that had bright blue bark and yellow leaves. Scattered about among the branches were blossoms of a delicate pink color, shaped like a cup and resembling somewhat the flower of the morning-glory.
“Are you hungry?” asked Ephel.
“Oh, I could eat something, I guess,” said Chubbins.
The Messenger flew to one of the trees and alighted upon a branch where three of the pink, cup-shaped flowers grew in a row. The children followed him, and sitting one before each blossom they looked within the cups and found them filled with an unknown substance that both looked and smelled delicious and appetizing.
“It is royal amal,” said their guide, busily pecking at his cup with his bill. “Help yourselves, little ones. You will find it very nice indeed.”
“Well,” said Twinkle, “I’d be glad to eat it if I could. But it wouldn’t do Chubbins and me a bit of good to stick our noses into these cups.”
Ephel turned to look at them.
“True,” he remarked; “it was very careless of me to forget that you have no bills. How are you accustomed to eat?”
“Why, with spoons, and knives and forks,” said the girl.
“You have but to ask for what you need,” declared the royal Messenger.
Twinkle hesitated, scarcely knowing what to say. At last she spoke boldly: “I wish Chub and I had spoons.”
Hardly had the words left her lips when two tiny golden spoons appeared in the flower-cups. Twinkle seized the spoon before her in one claw and dipped up a portion of the strange food, which resembled charlotte russe in appearance. When she tasted it she found it delicious; so she eagerly ate all that the blossom contained.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 379
