“I’d like to see that honey palace,” said Twinkle.
“Then come with me,” answered the Queen Bee, “for it will give me pleasure to show it to you.”
“Shall we go?” asked the girl-lark, turning to Ephel.
“Of course,” he returned. “It is quite a wonderful sight, and may interest you.”
So they all flew away, the Queen Bee taking the lead, and passed directly over the bed of flowers with its swarm of buzzing, busy bees.
“They remind me of a verse from ‘Father Goose,’“ said Twinkle, looking curiously but half fearfully at the hundreds of big insects.
“What is the verse?” asked the Queen.
“Why, it goes this way,” answered the girl:
“‘A bumble-bee was buzzing on a yellow hollyhock
When came along a turtle, who at the bee did mock,
Saying “Prithee, Mr. Bumble, why make that horrid noise?
It’s really distracting, and every one annoys.”
“‘“I’m sorry,” said, quite humble, the busy droning bee,
“The noise is just my bumble, and natural, you see.
And if I didn’t buzz so I’m sure that you’ll agree
I’d only be a big fly, and not a bumble-bee.”‘“
“That is quite true,” said the bee, “and describes our case exactly. But you should know that we are not named ‘bumblebees’ by rights, but ‘Humble Bees.’ The latter is our proper name.”
“But why ‘humble?’“ asked Twinkle.
“Because we are common, work-a-day people, I suppose, and not very aristocratic,” was the reply. “I’ve never heard why they changed our name to ‘bumble,’ but since you recited that verse I imagine it is on account of the noise our wings make.”
They had now passed over the flower beds and approached a remarkable village, where the houses were all formed of golden-yellow honey-combs. There were many pretty shapes among these houses, and some were large and many stories in height while others were small and had but one story. Some had spires and minarets reaching up into the air, and all were laid out into streets just like a real village.
But in the center stood a great honey-comb building with so many gables and roofs and peaks and towers that it was easy to guess it was the Queen Bee’s palace, of which she had spoken.
They flew in at a second-story window and found themselves in a big room with a floor as smooth as glass. Yet it was composed of many six-sided cells filled with honey, which could be seen through the transparent covering. The walls and roof were of the same material, and at the end of the room was a throne shaped likewise of the honey cells, like everything else. On a bench along the wall sat several fat and sleepy-looking bumble-bees, who scarcely woke up when their queen entered.
“Those are the drones,” she said to her visitors. “It is useless to chide them for their laziness, because they are too stupid to pay attention to even a good scolding. Don’t mind them in any way.”
After examining the beautiful throne-room, they visited the sleeping chambers, of which there were many, and afterward the parlors and dining-room and the work-rooms.
In these last were many bees building the six-sided pockets or cells for storing the honey in, or piling them up in readiness for the return of those who were gathering honey from the flowers.
“We are not really honey-bees,” remarked the Queen; “but gathering honey is our chief business, after all, and we manage to find a lot of it.”
“Won’t your houses melt when it rains?” asked Twinkle.
“No, for the comb of the honey is pure wax,” the Queen Bee replied. “Water does not melt it at all.”
“Where do you get all the wax?” Chubbins enquired.
“From the flowers, of course. It grows on the stamens, and is a fine dust called pollen, until we manufacture it into wax. Each of my bees carries two sacks, one in front of him, to put the honey in, and one behind to put the wax in.”
“That’s funny,” said the boy-lark.
“I suppose it may be, to you,” answered the Queen, “but to us it is a very natural thing.”
CHAPTER XVIII
Good News
Ephel and the children now bade the good-natured Queen Bee good-bye, and thanked her for her kindness. The Messenger led them far away to another place that he called a “suburb,” and as they emerged from a thick cluster of trees into a second flower garden they found the air filled with a great assemblage of butterflies, they being both large and small in size and colored in almost every conceivable manner.
Twinkle and Chubbins had seen many beautiful butterflies, but never such magnificent ones as these, nor so many together at one time. Some of them had wings fully as large as those of the Royal Messenger himself, even when he spread them to their limit, and the markings of these big butterfly wings were more exquisite than those found upon the tail-feathers of the proudest peacocks.
The butterflies paid no attention to their visitors, but continued to flutter aimlessly from flower to flower. Chubbins asked one of them a question, but got no reply.
“Can’t they talk?” he enquired of Ephel.
“Yes,” said the Messenger, “they all know how to talk, but when they speak they say nothing that is important. They are brainless, silly creatures, for the most part, and are only interesting because they are beautiful to look at. The King likes to watch the flashes of color as they fly about, and so he permits them to live in this place. They are very happy here, in their way, for there is no one to chase them or to stick pins through them when they are caught.”
Just then a chime of bells tinkled far away in the distance, and the Royal Messenger listened intently and then said:
“It is my summons to his Majesty the King. We must return at once to the palace.”
So they flew into the air again and proceeded to cross the lovely gardens and pass through the avenues of jewelled trees and the fragrant orchards and groves until they came at last to the royal bower of white flowers.
The child-larks entered with their guide and found the gorgeous King Bird of Paradise still strutting on his perch on the golden bush and enjoying the admiring glances of his courtiers and the ladies of his family. He turned as the children entered and addressed his Messenger, saying:
“Well, my dear Ephel, have you shown the strangers all the sights of our lovely land?”
“Most of them, your Majesty,” replied Ephel.
“What do you think of us now?” asked the King, turning his eyes upon the lark-children.
“It must be the prettiest place in all the world!” cried Twinkle, with real enthusiasm.
His Majesty seemed much pleased. “I am very sorry you cannot live here always,” he said.
“I’m not,” declared Chubbins. “It’s too pretty. I’d get tired of it soon.”
“He means,” said Twinkle, hastily, for she feared the blunt remark would displease the kindly King, “that he isn’t really a bird, but a boy who has been forced to wear a bird’s body. And your Majesty is wise enough to understand that the sort of life you lead in your fairy paradise would be very different from the life that boys generally lead.”
“Of course,” replied the King. “A boy’s life must be a dreadful one.”
“It suits me, all right,” said Chubbins.
The King looked at him attentively.
“Would you really prefer to resume your old shape, and cease to be a bird?” he asked.
“Yes, if I could,” Chubbins replied.
“Then I will tell you how to do it,” said the King. “Since you told me your strange story I have talked with my Royal Necromancer, who knows a good deal about magic, and especially about that same tuxix who wickedly transformed you in the forest. And the Royal Necromancer tells me that if you can find a tingle-berry, and eat it, you will resume your natural form again. For it is the one antidote in all the world for the charm the tuxix worked upon you.”
“What is a tingle-berry?” asked Twinkle
, anxiously, for this information interested her as much as it did Chubbins.
“I do not know,” said the King, “for it is a common forest berry, and never grows in our paradise. But doubtless you will have little trouble in finding the bush of the tingle-berry when you return to the outside world.”
The children were both eager to go at once and seek the tingle-berry; but they could not be so impolite as to run away just then, for the King announced that he had prepared an entertainment in their honor.
So they sat on a branch of the golden bush beside their friend Ephel, while at a nod from the King a flock of the beautiful Birds of Paradise flew into the bower and proceeded to execute a most delightful and bewildering set of aerial evolutions. They flew swiftly in circles, spirals, triangles, and solid squares, and all the time that they performed sweet music was played by some unseen band. It almost dazzled the eyes of the child-larks to watch this brilliant flashing of the colored wings of the birds, but the evolutions only lasted for a few minutes, and then the birds flew out again in regular ranks.
Then the little brown lady-birds danced gracefully upon the carpet, their dainty feet merely touching the tips of the lovely flowers. Afterward the flowers themselves took part, and sang a delightful chorus, and when this was finished the King said they would now indulge in some refreshment.
Instantly a row of bell-shaped blossoms appeared upon the golden bush, one for each bird present, and all were filled with a delicious ice that was as cold and refreshing as if it had just been taken from a freezer. Twinkle and Chubbins asked for spoons, and received them quickly; but the others all ate the ices with their bills.
The King seemed to enjoy his as much as any one, and Twinkle noticed that as fast as a blossom was emptied of its contents it disappeared from the branch.
The child-larks now thanked the beautiful but vain King very earnestly for all his kindness to them, and especially for telling them about the tingle-berries; and when all the good-byes had been exchanged Ephel flew with them back to the tree where they had left the Guardian of the Entrance and their faithful comrade, Policeman Bluejay.
CHAPTER XIX
The Rebels
They were warmly greeted by the bluejay, who asked:
“Did you enjoy the wonderful Paradise?”
“Very much, indeed,” cried Twinkle. “But we were sorry you could not be with us.”
“Never mind that,” returned the policeman, cheerfully. “I have feasted my eyes upon all the beauties visible from this tree, and my good friend the Guardian has talked to me and given me much good advice that will surely be useful to me in the future. So I have been quite contented while you were gone.”
The children now gave their thanks to Ephel for his care of them and polite attention, and the Royal Messenger said he was pleased that the King had permitted him to serve them. They also thanked the green-robed Guardian of the Entrance, and then, accompanied by Policeman Bluejay, they quitted the golden tree and began their journey back to the forest.
It was no trouble at all to return. The wind caught their wings and blew against them strongly, so that they had but to sail before the breeze and speed along until they were deep in the forest again. Then the wind moderated, and presently died away altogether, so that they were forced to begin flying in order to continue their journey home.
It was now the middle of the afternoon, and the policeman said:
“I hope all has been quiet and orderly during my absence. There are so many disturbing elements among the forest birds that I always worry when they are left alone for many hours at a time.”
“I’m sure they have behaved themselves,” returned Twinkle. “They fear your power so much that the evil-minded birds do not dare to offend you by being naughty.”
“That is true,” said the policeman. “They know very well that I will not stand any nonsense, and will always insist that the laws be obeyed.”
They were now approaching that part of the forest where they lived, and as the policeman concluded his speech they were surprised to hear a great flutter of wings among the trees, and presently a flock of big black rooks flew toward them.
At the head of the band was a saucy-looking fellow who wore upon his head a policeman’s helmet, and carried under his wing a club.
Policeman Bluejay gave a cry of anger as he saw this, and dashed forward to meet the rooks.
“What does this mean, you rascal?” he demanded, in a fierce voice.
“Easy there, my fine dandy,” replied the rook, with a hoarse laugh. “Don’t get saucy, or I’ll give you a rap on the head!”
The rooks behind him shrieked with delight at this impudent speech, and that made the mock policeman strut more absurdly than ever.
The bluejay was not only astonished at this rebellion but he was terribly angry as well.
“That is my policeman’s helmet and club,” he said sternly. “Where did you get them?”
“At your nest, of course,” retorted the other. “We made up our minds that we have had a miserable bluejay for a policeman long enough; so the rooks elected me in your place, and I’m going to make you birds stand around and obey orders, I can tell you! If you do as I command, you’ll get along all right; if you don’t, I’ll pound you with your own club until you obey.”
Again the rooks screamed in an admiring chorus of delight, and when the bluejay observed their great numbers, and that they were all as large as he was, and some even larger and stronger, he decided not to risk an open fight with them just then, but to take time to think over what had best be done.
“I will call the other birds to a meeting,” he said to the rook, “and let them decide between us.”
“That won’t do any good,” was the reply. “We rooks have decided the matter already. We mean to rule the forest, after this, and if any one, or all of the birds, dare to oppose us, we’ll fight until we force them to serve us. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?”
“I’ll think it over,” said Policeman Bluejay.
“Oho! oho! He’s afraid! He’s a coward!” yelled the rooks; and one of them added:
“Stand up and fight, if you dare!”
“I’ll fight your false policeman, or any one of you at a time,” replied the bluejay.
“No, you won’t; you’ll fight us all together, or not at all,” they answered.
The bluejay knew it would be foolish to do that, so he turned away and whispered to the lark-children:
“Follow me, and fly as swiftly as you can.”
Like a flash he darted high into the air, with Twinkle and Chubbins right behind him, and before the rooks could recover from their surprise the three were far away.
Then the big black birds gave chase, uttering screams of rage; but they could not fly so swiftly as the bluejay and the larks, and were soon obliged to abandon the pursuit.
When at last he knew that they had escaped the rooks, Policeman Bluejay entered the forest again and went among the birds to call them all to a meeting. They obeyed the summons without delay, and were very indignant when they heard of the rebellion of the rooks and the insults that had been heaped upon their regularly elected officer. Judge Bullfinch arrived with his head bandaged with soft feathers, for he had met the rook policeman and, when he remonstrated, had been severely pounded by the wicked bird’s club.
“But what can we do?” he asked. “The rooks are a very powerful tribe, and the magpies and cuckoos and blackbirds are liable to side with them, if they seem to be stronger than we are.”
“We might get all our people together and fall upon them in a great army, and so defeat them,” suggested an oriole.
“The trouble with that plan,” decided the judge, “is that we can only depend upon the smaller birds. The big birds might desert us, and in that case we would be badly beaten.”
“Perhaps it will be better to submit to the rooks,” said a little chickadee, anxiously. “We are neither warriors nor prizefighters, and if we obey our new rulers they m
ay leave us in peace.”
“No, indeed!” cried a linnet. “If we submit to them they will think we are afraid, and will treat us cruelly. I know the nature of these rooks, and believe they can only be kept from wickedness by a power stronger than their own.”
“Hear me, good friends,” said the bluejay, who had been silent because he was seriously thinking; “I have a plan for subduing these rebels, and it is one that I am sure will succeed. But I must make a long journey to accomplish my purpose. Go now quietly to your nests; but meet me at the Judgment Tree at daybreak to-morrow morning. Also be sure to ask every friendly bird of the forest to be present, for we must insist upon preserving our liberty, or else be forever slaves to these rooks.”
With these words he rose into the air and sped swiftly upon his errand.
The other birds looked after him earnestly.
“I think it will be well for us to follow his advice,” said Judge Bullfinch, after a pause. “The bluejay is an able bird, and has had much experience. Besides, we have ever found him just and honorable since the time we made him our policeman, so I feel that we may depend upon him in this emergency.”
“Why, it is all we can do,” replied a robin; and this remark was so true that the birds quietly dispersed and returned to their nests to await the important meeting the next morning.
CHAPTER XX
The Battle
Twinkle and Chubbins flew slowly home to their nests in the maple tree, pausing to ask every bird they met where tingle-berries grew. But none of them could tell.
“I’m sorry we did not ask Policeman Bluejay,” said Chubbins.
“I intended to ask him, but we hadn’t time,” replied Twinkle. “But he will be back to-morrow morning.”
“I wonder what he’s going to do,” remarked the boy.
“Don’t know, Chub; but it’ll be the right thing, whatever it is. You may be sure of that.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 381
