PALACE SECRETS.
Next day Sir Bevis, so soon as ever he could get away after dinner, and
without waiting for the noontide heat to diminish, set out in all haste
for the copse, taking with him his cannon-stick. He was full of
curiosity to know what would happen now that Kapchack was dead, who
would now be king, and everything about it, all of which he knew he
should learn from the squirrel. He took his cannon-stick with him
heavily loaded, and the charge rammed home well, meaning to shoot the
weasel; if the wretch would not come out when called upon to receive the
due punishment of his crimes, he would bang it off into his hole in the
tree, and, perhaps, some of the shot would reach the skulking vagabond.
He went up the field, reached the great oak-tree, and crossed over to
the corner of the wheat-field, but neither the hare nor the dragon-fly
were waiting about to conduct him, as was their duty. He sat down on the
grass to see if they would come to him, but although two dragon-flies
passed over they did not stay to speak, but went on their journey.
Neither of them was his guide, but they both went towards the copse.
Immediately afterwards a humble-bee came along, droning and talking to
himself as he flew. "Where is the hare?" said Bevis; "and where is the
dragon-fly?" "Buzz," said the humble-bee, "the usual course on occasions
like the present--buzz--zz," the sound of his voice died away as he went
past without replying. Three swallows swept by next at a great pace,
chattering as they flew.
"Where's my dragon-fly?" said Bevis, but they were too busy to heed him.
Presently a dove flew over too high to speak to, and then a
missel-thrush, and soon afterwards ten rooks, after whom came a whole
bevy of starlings, and behind these a train of finches. Next a thrush
came along the low hedge, then two blackbirds, all so quick that Bevis
could not make them understand him. A crow too appeared, but catching
sight of Bevis's cannon-stick, he smelt the powder, wheeled round and
went by far to the left hand out of talking distance. Still more
starlings rushed overhead, and Bevis waved his hand to them, but it was
no use. Just afterwards he saw a thrush coming, so he jumped up, pointed
his cannon-stick, and said he would shoot if the thrush did not stop.
Much frightened, the thrush immediately perched on the hedge, and begged
Bevis not to kill him, for he remembered the fate of his relation who
was shot with the same cannon.
"Tell me where the hare is, and where is my dragon-fly," said Bevis;
"and why are all the people hurrying away towards the copse, and why
don't they stop and tell me, and what is all this about?"
"I do not know exactly where the hare is," said the
thrush, "but I suppose she is in the copse too, and I have no doubt at
all the dragon-fly is there, and I am going myself so soon as you will
let me."
"Why are you all going to the copse?" said Bevis. "Is it because
Kapchack is dead?"
"Yes," said the thrush, "it is because the king is dead, and there is
going to be an election, that is if there is time, or if it can be
managed; for it is expected that Choo Hoo will return now Kapchack is
overthrown."
"When did Choo Hoo go, then?" asked Bevis--for he had not yet heard of
the battle. So the thrush told him all about it, and how strange it was
that King Kapchack in the hour of victory should be slain by the very
man who for so many years had protected him. The thrush said that the
news had no doubt reached Choo Hoo very soon afterwards, and everybody
expected that the barbarians would gather together again, and come back
to take vengeance, and so, as they now had no king or leader, they were
all hastening to the copse to take sanctuary from Choo Hoo. The only
doubt was whether the emperor would respect the enclosure hitherto
regarded by all the civilised people as a place where they could meet
without danger. The barbarians knew nothing of these tacit agreements,
which make communication so easy and pleasant among educated people.
Still there was nothing else they could do.
"And what is going on in the copse?" said Bevis, "and who is to be
king?"
"I cannot tell you," said the thrush, "I was just going to see, and if
possible to vote against Ki Ki, who treacherously slew my friend and
relation the ambassador, whom the king sent to Choo Hoo."
"We will go together," said Bevis, "and you can tell me some more about
it as we go along. One thing is quite certain, the weasel will never be
king."
"Before I go with you," said the thrush, "you must please leave off
pointing that dreadful cannon-stick at me, else I shall not be able to
converse freely."
So Bevis left off pointing it, and carried his gun over his shoulder,
just as he had seen his papa carry his. The thrush flew slowly along
beside him, but he could not quite manage to keep at exactly the same
pace; his wings would carry him faster than Bevis walked, so he stopped
on the ground every now and then for Bevis to come up.
"I am sure," he said, "I hope the weasel will not be king, and there is
a rumour going about that he is disabled by some accident he has met
with. But I greatly fear myself that he will be, notwithstanding what
you say, for he is so cunning, and has so terrible a reputation that no
one can prevail against him."
"Pooh!" said Bevis, "don't tell me such stuff and rubbish; I say the
weasel shall not be king, for I am going to shoot him as dead as any
nail; after which Pan shall tear him into twenty pieces."
"But you tried to kill him once before, did you not?" said the thrush.
"You hold your tongue, this minute, you impudent thrush," said Bevis, in
a great rage; and he took his cannon-stick off his shoulder, and looked
so black that the thrush, alarmed for his safety, took advantage of a
hedge being near, and slipped through it in a second.
"I'm very glad you're gone," said Bevis, calling after him, "but I'll
shoot you next time I see you for leaving me without permission."
"And that will just serve him right," said a blackbird, as he hastened
by, "for the thrush is the greediest bird in the world, and is always
poaching about the places that belong to me."
Bevis was now very near the copse, and had not the least difficulty in
finding the little bridge over the ditch, but he stopped before he
crossed it, to listen to the noise there was inside among the trees.
Whenever he had come before in the afternoon it was always so quiet, but
now there was a perfect uproar of talking. Hundreds of starlings were
chattering in the fir-trees, and flying round the branches with
incessant motion. In the thick hedge which enclosed it there were crowds
of greenfinches, goldfinches, chaffinches, yellow-hammers, and sparrows,
who never ceased talking. Up in the elms there were a number of rooks,
who were deliberating in a solemn manner; it was indeed the rook council
who had met there to consider as the safest place, the very council that
Ah Kurroo so much disliked. Two or three dozen wood-pigeons cowered on
the lower branches of some ashes; they were the aliens who dwelt in
Kapchack's kingdom. Rabbits were rushing about in all directions;
dragon-flies darting up and down with messages; humble-bees droning at
every corner; the woodpecker yelled out his views in the midst of the
wood; everything was in confusion.
As Bevis walked into the copse along the green track, with the tall
thistles and the fern on each side of him, he caught little bits here
and there of what they were saying; it was always the same, who was
going to be king, and what would Choo Hoo do? How long would it be
before the emperor's army could be got together again to come sweeping
back and exact a dire vengeance for its defeat? Where was the weasel?
What was the last atrocity Ki Ki had committed? Had anybody heard
anything more of Kauc, the crow? Had Prince Tchack-tchack arrived? Had
the rooks made up their mind?--and so on, till Bevis shook his head and
held his hands to his ears, so tremendous was the din.
Just then he saw his own dragon-fly and beckoned to him; the dragon-fly
came at once. "What is all this?" began Bevis.
"My dear, how are you?" interrupted the dragon-fly. "I am so busy," and
off he went again.
"Well I never!" said Bevis, getting excited like the rest, when the hare
came across the path and stopped to speak to him. "What is going on?"
said Bevis.
"That is just what I want to know," said the hare. "Everybody says that
somebody is going to do something, but what it is they do not themselves
know. There never was such a confusion, and, for aught we know, Choo
Hoo may be here any minute, and there's not a single regiment in
position."
"Dear me!" said Bevis, "why ever don't they begin?"
"I cannot tell you," said the hare. "I don't think anybody knows how:
and the fact is, they are all thinking about who shall be king, and
intriguing for the sovereignty, when they should be thinking of their
country, and providing for its defence."
"And who is to be king?" said Bevis. "The weasel shall not, that is
certain; for I am just this very minute going to shoot into his hole!"
"It is no use to do that," said the hare; "though I am very glad to hear
you say that he shall not be king. But it is no use shooting into his
hole, for he is not there, nor anywhere in his old haunts, and we are
all very suspicious as to what he is about. I think you had better come
and see the squirrel; he is in the raspberries, and the jay is there
too, and there is an immense deal of talking going on."
"So I will," said Bevis; and he followed the hare to the raspberries
(all the fruit was now gone), and found the squirrel, who advanced to
welcome him, and the jay up in the oak. Being hot with walking in the
sun, Bevis sat down on the moss at the foot of the oak, and leaned back
against the tree whose beautiful boughs cast so pleasant a shadow. The
hare came close to him on one side, and the squirrel the other, and the
jay perched just overhead, and they all began to tell him the news at
once. Not able to understand what they meant while they were all
speaking together, Bevis held up his hands and begged them to stop a
minute, and then asked the squirrel to explain.
"So I will," said the squirrel, "though I ought to be hiding my stores
as fast as I can from the voracious host of barbarians, who will be here
in a minute. But what am I to do? for I cannot get anybody to help
me--everybody is thinking about himself."
"But the story--the story!" said Bevis; "tell me all about it."
"Well, since I can do nothing," said the squirrel, "I suppose I must,
though there is not a great deal to tell. You must know, then, that the
news of Kapchack's death got here in half-a-minute, for the
missel-thrush came with it, and from here it was all over the country in
less than an hour. Everybody knew it except Ah Kurroo Khan and the
victorious legions, and Choo Hoo and the flying enemy. These were so
busy, the one with slaughter, and the other with trying to escape, that
they could not listen to what the swifts at once flew to tell them, but
continued to fight and fly away till the evening, when the fragments of
Choo Hoo's army took refuge in the forest. Even then they would not
believe so extraordinary a circumstance, but regarded the account that
had reached them as one of the rumours which always fly about at such
times. Choo Hoo continued to go from tree to tree deeper and deeper into
the forest.
"Ah Kurroo Khan, calling off his legions, since nothing further could be
done, drew his victorious army back to some isolated clumps and
avenues, where they intended to make their camp for the night. But in
the course of an hour the rumours increased so much, and so many
messengers arrived with the same intelligence and additional
particulars, that Ah Kurroo Khan, dreading lest it should be true, sent
out a squadron to ascertain the facts.
"Long before it could return, an envoy arrived from the council of the
rooks themselves, with an order to Ah Kurroo Khan to retire at once,
notwithstanding the lateness of the evening, and that the sun was
sinking.
"With much disappointment (for he had hoped to continue the pursuit, and
entirely exterminate the barbarians on the morrow), and not without
forebodings as to his own fate, Ah Kurroo reluctantly communicated the
order to his troops. The wearied legions accordingly started on their
homeward journey, slowly passing over the fields which had witnessed the
conquest of the morning. The sun had already sunk when their van reached
the rooks' city, and Ah Kurroo came to the front to deliver the report
he had prepared upon his way. As he approached the trees where the
council of the rooks was sitting, in dark and ominous silence, an
official stopped him, and informed him that he had been dismissed from
the command, degraded from the rank he held, and the title of Khan taken
from him. He was to retire to a solitary tree at some distance, and
consider himself under arrest.
"Thus they punished him for daring to move without their orders (even at
the direct instance of the king), and thus was he rewarded for winning
the greatest battle known to history. The legions were immediately
disbanded, and each individual ordered to his home. Meantime, the news
had at last reached Choo Hoo, but neither he, nor the fugitive host,
could believe it, till there arrived some of the aliens who had dwelt
with us, and who assured the barbarians that it was correct. Directly
afterwards, the intelligence was confirmed by the retreat of Ah Kurroo
Khan.
"All that livelong night Choo Hoo, once more beginning to hope, flew to
and fro from tree to tree, endeavouring to animate his host afresh with
spirit for the fight; and as messengers continually came in with fresh
particulars of the confusion in Kapchack's kingdom, he began to succeed.
Early this morning, when the sun rose, the mystic syllables,
'Koos-takke,' resounded once more; the forest was alive, and echoed with
the clattering of their wings, as the army drew together and re-formed
its ranks. The barbarians, easily moved by omens, saw in the
extraordinary death of Kapchack the very hand of fate. Once more they
believed in their emperor; once more Choo Hoo advanced at their head.
"Not half-an-hour since a starling came in with the intelligence that
Choo Hoo's advanced guard had already reached his old camp. We suppose
the barbarians will halt there a little while for refreshment, and then
move down upon us in a mass. Would you believe it, instead of preparing
for defence, the whole state is rent with faction and intrigue! Yonder
the council of the rooks, wise as they are, are indeed deliberating,
having retired here for greater safety lest their discussion should be
suddenly interrupted by the enemy; but the subject of this discussion is
not how to defend the country, but what punishment they shall inflict
upon Ah Kurroo. There is a difference of opinion. Some hold that the
established penalty for his offence is to break his wings and hurl him
helpless from the top of the tallest elm. Some, more merciful, are for
banishment, that he be outlawed, and compelled to build his nest and
roost on an isolated tree, exposed to all the insults of the crows. The
older members of the council, great sticklers for tradition, maintain
that the ancient and only adequate punishment is the hanging up of the
offender by one leg to a dead and projecting branch, there to dangle and
die of starvation, a terror to all such evil-doers.
"While they thus talk of torture the enemy is in sight, and their own
army, it is more than whispered, is discontented and angry at the
reception meted out to the victorious Khan. But this, alas! is not all.
"So soon as ever Ki Ki was certain that Kapchack was really dead, he
returned, and he has gathered to himself a crew of the most terrible
ruffians you ever beheld. He has got about him all the scum of the
earth; all the blackguards, villains, vermin, cut-throat scoundrels have
rallied to his standard; as the old proverb says: 'Birds of a feather
flock together'. He has taken possession of the firs, yonder, on the
slope (which are the property of my friend the jay), and which command
my copse. He has proclaimed himself king, and seeks to obtain
confirmation of his title by terrorism. Already he has twice sent forth
his murderous banditti, who, scouring the fields, have committed fearful
havoc upon defenceless creatures. I am in dread every minute lest he
should descend upon the copse itself, for he respects no law of earth or
heaven.
"At the same time Kauc, the crow, has come forth in his true colours; he
too has proclaimed himself king. He has taken his stand in the trees by
the Long Pond--you came close by them just now--they are scarce a
quarter of a mile hence. To our astonishment, he has got at least thrice
as many retainers as he is entered to have in the roll which was read
before Kapchack. He had reckoned, it seems, upon the assistance of
Cloctaw, of St. Paul's, who has great influence among the jackdaws.
Cloctaw, however, avoided him and came hither, and Kauc vows he will
destroy him.
"I know not which is most formidable, the violent Ki Ki or the ruthless
Kauc. The latter, I feel sure, is only waiting till he sees an opening
to rush in and slaughter us. There is not a generous sentiment in his
breast; he would not spare the fledgling in the nest. Between these two,
one on either hand, we are indeed in a fearful predicament; Choo Hoo is
to be preferred to them.
"Whether Raoul, the rat, intends to strike a blow for the throne, I know
not; he is here; he bears an evil character, but for myself I like him
far better than Kauc or Ki Ki. The fox is, of course, out of the
question. But my great fear is the weasel; should he obtain the throne
which of us will be safe? By night as well as by day we shall be
decimated. His Machiavellian schemes, indeed, have thus far gone astray,
and although he could arrange for everything, he could not foresee his
own illness. Yet, though lying by now with a broken rib and other
injuries, I have not the least doubt he is weaving new webs and
preparing fresh deceptions. Thus, while the invader threatens us hourly,
the kingdom of Kapchack is torn to pieces with the dissensions of those
who should defend it."
"But why does not Prince Tchack-tchack take the throne and be king?"
said Bevis. "He is the heir; he is Kapchack's son."
"So he ought," said the squirrel; "but the truth is, people are weary of
the rule of the magpies; nor is this young and flighty prince capable of
taking up the reins of state. He is vain, and dissipated, and
uncertain--no one can depend upon him. And besides, even if they could,
have you not heard the extraordinary secret he has let out, like the
great lout he is, and of which everybody is talking?"
"No," said Bevis; "I have heard nothing--how should I? I have only just
got here. What is the secret? Tell me the secret this minute."
"To think," said the jay, "that we should have been so long deceived.
But I had my suspicions."
"I cannot say I suspected anything," said the hare; "but I remember Kauc
did make a very curious remark on one occasion; he was always looking
askew into things and places that did not concern him, so that I did
not much heed, especially as he had started slanders about me."
"Well," said the jay, "the truth is, my wife--she is, you know, the most
beautiful creature in the world, and quite turned the head of the late
monarch--told me that she all along had her ideas; and Kapchack himself
indeed told her in confidence that he was not so old as he looked, being
jealous of the youth of Tchack-tchack, who objected to having his eye
pecked out, and his feathers ruffled, as if he had any claims to be
handsome;" and the jay surveyed his own bright feathers with pride.
"You stupids!" said Bevis, "what is the use of talking in that way? I
want to know the secret."
"There is no secret," said the jay; "and I am not stupid. How can there
be a secret, when everybody knows it?"
"Hush! hush!" said the hare, trying to make peace; "do not let us
quarrel, at all events, if all the rest do."
"No," said the squirrel; "certainly not."
"Certainly not," repeated the jay.
"Well, what is it, then?" said Bevis, still frowning.
"The fact is," said the squirrel, "Tchack-tchack has babbled out the
great state secret. I myself knew a little of it previously, having
overheard the crow muttering to himself--as Ulu said, he peers into
things that do not concern him. And, if you remember, Bevis, I was in a
great fright one day when I nearly let it out myself. Now Prince
Tchack-tchack, finding that he could not get the crown, has babbled
everything in his rage, and the beautiful jay has told us many things
that prove it to be true. It now turns out that Kapchack was not
Kapchack at all."
"Not Kapchack!" said Bevis. "How could Kapchack not be Kapchack, when he
was Kapchack?"
"Kapchack could not be Kapchack," said the squirrel, "because he never
was Kapchack."
"Then who was Kapchack?" said Bevis, in amazement.
"Well, he was not who he was," said the squirrel; "and I will tell you
why it was that he was not, if you will listen, and not keep
interrupting, and asking questions. The reed once told you how stupid it
is to ask questions; you would understand everything very well, if you
did not trouble to make inquiries. The king who is just dead, and who
was called Kapchack, was not Kapchack, because the real old original
Kapchack died forty years ago."
"What?" said Bevis.
"Extraordinary!" said the jay.
"Extraordinary!" said the hare.
"But true," said the squirrel. "The real old original Kapchack, the
cleverest, cunningest, most consummate schemer who ever lived, who built
the palace in the orchard, and who played such fantastic freaks before
the loving couple, who won their hearts, and stole their locket and
separated them for ever (thinking that would serve his purpose best,
since if they married they would forget him, and have other things to
think about, while if they were apart he should be regarded as a sacred
souvenir), this marvellous genius, the founder of so illustrious a
family, whose dominion stretched from here to the sea--I tell you that
_this_ Kapchack, the real old original one, died forty years ago.
"But before he died, being so extremely cunning, he made provision for
the continuation of himself in this way. He reflected that he was very
old, and that a good deal of the dignity he enjoyed was due to that
fact. The owner of the orchard and warden of his fortress regarded him
with so much affection, because in his youth he had capered before the
young lady whom he loved. It was not possible for the old gentleman to
transfer this affection to a young and giddy magpie, who had not seen
any of these former things. Nor, looking outside the orchard wall, was
it probable that the extensive kingdom he himself enjoyed would pass
under the sway of a youthful prince in its entirety.
"Some of the nobles would be nearly certain to revolt: the empire he had
formed with so much labour, ingenuity, and risk, would fall to pieces,
the life of one ruler not being sufficiently long to consolidate it. The
old king, therefore, as he felt the years pressing heavy upon him, cast
about in his mind for some means of securing his dynasty.
"After long cogitation one day he called to him his son and heir, a very
handsome young fellow, much like the Tchack-tchack whom we know, and
motioning him to come close, as if about to whisper in his ear, suddenly
pecked out his left eye. The vain young prince suffered not only from
the physical pain, but the intense mortification of knowing that his
beauty was destroyed for ever. If he wanted even to look at himself in
the pond, before he could see his own reflection, he had to turn his
head upon one side. He bitterly upbraided his unnatural father for this
cruel deed: the queen joined in the reproaches, and the palace resounded
with rage and lamentation.
"Old King Kapchack the First bore all this disturbance with equanimity,
sustained by the conviction that he had acted for the welfare of the
royal house he had founded. After a time, when the young one-eyed prince
ceased to complain, and was only sullen, he seized an opportunity when
they were alone in the apple-tree, and explained to him the reason why
he had done it.
"'I,' said he, 'I have founded this house, and through me you are
regarded everywhere as of royal dignity; but if I were gone, the wicked
and traitorous world which surrounds the throne would certainly begin to
conspire against you on account of your youth; nor would the warden of
this orchard take any interest or defend you, as you were not the
witness of the caresses bestowed upon him by his young lady. If you look
at me, you will see that a wound, received in the wars which I waged
long since, extinguished my left eye. You will also see that my tail is
not, to say the least, either so glossy or so ample as of yore, and my
neck and temples are somewhat bare, partly because in those wars I
received divers swashing blows upon my head, and partly because of my
increasing age.'
"The prince looked at him, and remarked that he certainly was a draggled
old scarecrow. Not the least annoyed by this unfilial expression, the
old king proceeded to show his heir how, in order for him, first, to
retain the kingdom, and secondly, to keep the interest of the old
gentleman owner of the orchard, it was necessary for him to present the
same appearance as Kapchack himself did. 'In short,' said he, 'when I
die you must be ready to take my place, and to look exactly like me.'
The prince began to see the point, and even to admire the cunning of his
father, but still he could not forgive the loss of his eye.
"'Ah!' said Kapchack I., 'you see I was obliged to take you upon the
hop, otherwise it would never have been accomplished; no persuasion
could have induced you to submit to such a deprivation, and, now I am
about it, let me advise you, indeed, strictly enjoin upon you, when it
becomes your turn, and you, too, are old and failing, to do the same as
I did. Do not tell your son and heir what you are going to do, or depend
upon it he will slip aside and avoid you; but do it first. And now,
since you have already so far the same bleared aspect as myself, you
will feel no difficulty in submitting to certain curtailments behind,
and to the depilation of your head and neck.'
"Well, the result was, that the prince, full of ambition, and
determined to rule at any price, in the end submitted to these
disfigurations; the only thing he groaned over was the fear that none of
the young lady magpies would now have anything to say to him.
"'My dear and most dutiful son,' said the old king, greatly pleased at
the changed attitude of his heir, 'I assure you that you will not
experience any loss of attention upon that score. It is in early youth
indeed a very prevalent mistake for gaudy young fellows (as you appeared
the other day) to imagine that it is the gloss of their feathers, the
brilliance of their eyes, and the carriage of their manly forms that
obtains for them the smiles and favours of the fair. But, believe me,
this gratifying idea is not founded on fact; it is not the glossy
feather, or the manly form, my son, it is the wealth that you possess,
and even more than that, the social dignity and rank, which is already
yours, that has brought a circle of charming darlings around you.
"'It is certainly somewhat mortifying to feel that it is not ourselves
they care for, but merely the gratification of their own vanity. Of
course you must bury this profound secret in your own breast. But if you
ponder over what I have said you will soon see how you can use this
knowledge to your own advantage. And it will at least save you from the
folly of really falling in love, than which, my most dutiful son, there
is no disease so terrible, and so lasting in its effects, as witness
that drivelling fool who keeps this orchard for us, and surrounds our
palace as with an impregnable fortification. Believe me,
notwithstanding your now antique appearance--except at very close
quarters, and without close examination (I don't think you have quite as
many crow's-feet round your cyclopean eye as myself), it is not possible
to distinguish you from me--believe me, in spite of this, the circle of
charming darlings, reflecting that you are the heir to the greatest
crown in the universe, will discover that you are even more attractive
than before.'
"The prince in a day or two found that the old king was right, and
recovered much of his former spirit. As for the old king, having
provided for his dynasty, and feeling certain that his royal house would
now endure, he feasted and laughed, and cracked the oddest jokes you
ever heard. One afternoon, after spending the whole time in this way, he
recollected that he had not yet informed his heir of one important
secret, namely, the entrance to his treasure house.
"This was a chink, covered over with an excrescence of the bark, in the
aged apple-tree, at the juncture of a large bough (the very bough that
was lately cracked by the hurricane), and it was here that he had
accumulated the spoils of the many expeditions he had undertaken, the
loot of provinces and the valuable property he had appropriated nearer
home, including the diamond locket. So cunningly had he chosen his
treasure vault that not one of all his courtiers, not even his queens,
could ever discover it, though they were all filled with the most
intense desire and burning cupidity. The monarch thoroughly enjoyed the
jest, for all the time they were sitting right over it, and that was,
no doubt, why they could not see it, being under their feet. Well, the
old king recollected that afternoon that he had not communicated the
secret to his heir, and decided that the time had come when it was
necessary to do so. He therefore gave out that he felt sleepy after so
much feasting, and desired his friends to leave him alone for a while,
all except the missel-thrush (not the present, of course, but his
ancestor).
"Accordingly they all flew away to flirt in the copse, and so soon as
the court was clear the king told the missel-thrush to go and send his
son to him, as he had something of importance to communicate in private.
The missel-thrush did as he was bid, and in about half-an-hour the young
prince approached the palace. But when he came near he saw that the
king, overcome perhaps by too much feasting, had dozed off into slumber.
As it was a rule in the palace that the monarch must never be awakened,
the prince perched silently close by.
"Now, while he was thus sitting waiting for the king to wake up, as he
watched him it occurred to him that if any one came by--as the warden of
the orchard and--saw the two magpies up in the tree, he would wonder
which was which. Instead of one old Kapchack, lo! there would be two
antique Kapchacks.
"Thought the prince: 'The king is very clever, exceedingly clever, but
it seems to me that he has overreached himself. For certainly, if it is
discovered that there are two old ones about, inquiries will be made,
and a difficulty will arise, and it is not at all unlikely that one of
us will be shot. It seems to me that the old fellow has lived a little
too long, and that his wits are departing (here he gave a quiet hop
closer), and gone with his feathers, and it is about time I succeeded to
the throne. (Another hop closer.) In an empire like this, so recently
founded, the sceptre must be held in vigorous claws, and upon the whole,
as there is no one about----' He gave a most tremendous peck upon the
poor old king's head, and Kapchack fell to the ground, out of the tree,
stone dead upon the grass.
"The prince turned his head upon one side, and looked down upon him;
then he quietly hopped into his place, shut his eye, and dozed off to
sleep. By-and-by the courtiers ventured back by twos and threes, and
gathered on the tree, respectfully waiting till he should awake, and
nodding, and winking, and whispering to each other about the body in the
grass. Presently his royal highness woke up, yawned, complained that the
gout grew worse as he got older, and asked for the prince, who had been
sitting by him just now. Then looking round and seeing that all were a
little constrained in their manner, he glanced in the same direction
they did, and exclaimed that there was his poor son and heir lying in
the grass!
"With great lamentation he had the body laid out in state, and called in
the court physicians to examine how the prince (for so he persisted in
calling the dead monarch) came by his fate. Now, there was no
disguising the fact that the deceased had been most foully murdered,
for his skull was driven in by the force of the blow; but you see those
were dangerous times, and with a despotic king eyeing them all the
while, what could the physicians do? They discovered that there was a
small projecting branch which had been broken off half-way down the tree
and which had a sharp edge, or splinter, and that this splinter
precisely fitted the wound in the head. Without doubt the prince had
been seized with sudden illness, had fallen and struck his head against
the splinter. It was ordered that this bough should be at once removed.
Kapchack raised a great lamentation, as he had lost his son and heir,
and in that character the dead monarch was ceremoniously interred in the
royal vaults, which are in the drain the hunted hare took refuge in
under the orchard.
"And so complete was the resemblance the prince bore to his dead parent,
owing to the loss of his eye and the plucking of his feathers, that for
the most part the courtiers actually believed that it really was the
prince they had buried, and all the common people accepted it without
doubt. One or two who hinted at a suspicion when they were alone with
Kapchack the Second received promises of vast rewards to hold their
tongues; and no sooner had they left his presence than he had them
assassinated. Thus the dynasty was firmly consolidated, just as the dead
founder had desired, though in rather a different manner to what he
expected.
"But the new (or as he appeared the old) king had not been many days on
the throne when he remembered the immense treasure of which his parent
had been possessed. Sending every one away on one pretext and another,
he searched the palace from attic to basement, peeped into all the
drawers his father had used, turned over every document, sounded every
wall, bored holes in the wainscot, ripped up the bark, and covered
himself with dust in his furious endeavours to find it. But though he
did this twenty times, though he examined every hollow tree within ten
miles, and peered into everything, forcing even the owl's ancestor to
expose certain skeletons that were in his cupboard, yet could he never
find it.
"And all the while the greatest difficulty he encountered was to hold
his tongue; he did not dare let out that he was looking for the
treasure, because, of course, everybody thought that he was Kapchack,
the same who had put it away. He had to nip his tongue with his beak
till it bled to compel himself by sheer pain to abstain from reviling
his predecessor. But it was no good, the treasure could not be found. He
gave out that all this searching was to discover an ancient deed or
treaty by which he was entitled to a distant province. As the deed could
not be found (having never existed), he marched his army and took the
province by force. And, will you believe it, my friends, the fact is
that from that time to this (till the hurricane broke the bough the
other day) none of the King Kapchacks have had the least idea where
their treasure was. They have lived upon credit.
"Everybody knew there was a treasure, and as time went on and new
generations arose, it became magnified as the tale was handed down, till
only lately, as you know, the whole world considered that Kapchack
possessed wealth the like of which had never been seen. Thus it happened
that as each succeeding Kapchack got farther and farther away from the
reality and lost all trace of the secret, the fame of these riches
increased. But to return. In course of years this Kapchack also found
himself growing old, and it became his turn to prepare a son and heir
for the throne by pecking out his left eye, and denuding him of his tail
feathers. I need not go into further details; suffice it to say the
thing was managed, and although the old fellows well knew their danger
and took all sorts of precautions, the princes thus mutilated always
contrived to assassinate their parents, and thus that apple-tree has
been the theatre of the most awful series of tragedies the earth has
ever known.
"Down to the last King Kapchack, the thing was always managed
successfully, and he was the sixth who had kept up the deception. But
the number six seems in some way fatal to kings, the sixth always gets
into trouble, and Kapchack VI. proved very unfortunate. For in his time,
as you know, Choo Hoo arose, the kingdom was invaded, and quite half of
it taken from him. Whether he shrank from the risk attending the
initiation of Prince Tchack-tchack (his heir) I do not know, but for
some reason or other he put it off from time to time, till the prince in
fact grew rather too old himself, and too cunning, and getting about
with disreputable companions--that gross old villain Kauc, the crow,
for one--it is just possible that some inkling of the hereditary
mutilation in store for him was insinuated (for his own purposes) by
that vile wretch.
"Still, most likely, even if he had known of it he would have come in
time to submit (so powerful a motive is ambition) rather than lose the
crown, had not it happened that both he and Kapchack fell violently in
love with the beautiful young jay, La Schach. Very naturally and very
excusably, being so young and so beautiful, she was perhaps just a
little capricious. Jealous to the last degree, old King Kapchack told
her the secret, and that he really was not nearly so old as the world
believed him to be--he was the sixth of the race, and not the original
antiquity. No doubt the beauty laughed in her sleeve at him, and just
for fun told Tchack-tchack all about it, and that she would never marry
a one-eyed bird. Kapchack, full of jealousy, bethought him that it was
high time to destroy his heir's good looks, so he attempted to peck out
his left eye in accordance with the usage of the house.
"But Tchack-tchack, having now learnt the secret, vain of his beauty,
and determined to have the lovely jay at any cost, was alive to the
trick, and eluded his parent. This was the reason why Tchack-tchack
towards the last would never go near the palace. Thus it happened that
the hereditary practice was not resorted to, for poor old Kapchack VI.
fell, as you know, in the very hour of victory. Tchack-tchack, who has
both eyes, and the most glossy tail, and a form of the manliest beauty,
is now at this minute chattering all round the copse in a terrible rage,
and quite beside himself, because nobody will vote for him to be king,
especially since through the breaking of the bough the vaunted treasure
is at last revealed and found to consist of a diamond locket and one
silver spoon--a hollow business you see--so that he has no money, while
the beautiful jay has just been united to our friend here--and, goodness
me, here she comes in a flutter!"