Once upon a time, when the world was very new and when the birds had
just learned from Mother Magpie how to build their nests, some one said,
"We ought to have a king. Oh, we need a king of the birds very much!"
For you see, already in the Garden of Birds trouble had begun. There
were disputes every morning as to which was the earliest bird who was
entitled to the worm. There were quarrels over the best places for
nest-building and over the fattest bug or beetle; and there was no one
to settle these difficulties. Moreover, the robber birds were growing
too bold, and there was no one to rule and punish them. There was no
doubt about it; the birds needed a king to keep them in order and peace.
So the whisper went about, "We must have a king. Whom shall we choose
for our king?"
They decided to hold a great meeting for the election. And because the
especial talent of a bird is for flying, they agreed that the bird who
could fly highest up into the blue sky, straight toward the sun, should
be their king, king of all the feathered tribes of the air.
Therefore, after breakfast one beautiful morning, the birds met in the
garden to choose their king. All the birds were there, from the largest
to the smallest, chirping, twittering, singing on every bush and tree
and bit of dry grass, till the noise was almost as great as nowadays at
an election of two-legged folk without feathers. They swooped down in
great clouds, till the sky was black with them, and they were dotted on
the grass like punctuation marks on a green page. There were so many
that not even wise Mother Magpie or old Master Owl could count them, and
they all talked at the same time, like ladies at an afternoon tea, which
was very confusing.
Little Robin Redbreast was there, hopping about and saying pleasant
things to every one, for he was a great favorite. Gorgeous Goldfinch was
there, in fine feather; and little Blackbird, who was then as white as
snow. There were the proud Peacock and the silly Ostrich, the awkward
Penguin and the Dodo, whom no man living has ever seen. Likewise there
were the Jubjub Bird and the Dinky Bird, and many other curious
varieties that one never finds described in the wise Bird Books,--which
is very strange, and sad, too, I think. Yes, all the birds were there
for the choosing of their king, both the birds who could fly, and those
who could not. (But for what were they given wings, if not to fly? How
silly an Ostrich must feel!)
Now the Eagle expected to be king. He felt sure that he could fly higher
than any one else. He sat apart on a tall pine tree, looking very
dignified and noble, as a future king should look. And the birds glanced
at one another, nodded their heads, and whispered, "He is sure to be
elected king. He can fly straight up toward the sun without winking, and
his great wings are so strong, so strong! He never grows tired. He is
sure to be king."
Thus they whispered among themselves, and the Eagle heard them, and was
pleased. But the little brown Wren heard also, and he was not pleased.
The absurd little bird! He wanted to be king himself, although he was
one of the tiniest birds there, who could never be a protector to the
others, nor stop trouble when it began. No, indeed! Fancy him stepping
as a peacemaker between a robber Hawk and a bloody Falcon. It was they
who would make pieces of him. But he was a conceited little creature,
and saw no reason why he should not make a noble sovereign.
"I am cleverer than the Eagle," he said to himself, "though he is so
much bigger. I will be king in spite of him. Ha-ha! We shall see what we
shall see!" For the Wren had a great idea in his wee little head--an
idea bigger than the head itself, if you can explain how that could be.
He ruffled up his feathers to make himself as huge as possible, and
hopped over to the branch where the Eagle was sitting.
"Well, Eagle," said the Wren pompously, "I suppose you expect to be
king, eh?"
The Eagle stared hard at him with his great bright eyes. "Well, if I do,
what of that?" he said. "Who will dispute me?"
"I shall," said the Wren, bobbing his little brown head and wriggling
his tail saucily.
"You!" said the Eagle. "Do _you_ expect to fly higher than I?"
"Yes," chirped the Wren, "I do. Yes, I do, do, do!"
"Ho!" said the Eagle scornfully. "I am big and strong and brave. I can
fly higher than the clouds. You, poor little thing, are no bigger than a
bean. You will be out of breath before we have gone twice this tree's
height."
"Little as I am, I can mount higher than you," said the Wren.
"What will you wager, Wren?" asked the Eagle. "What will you give me if
I win?"
"If you win you will be king," said the Wren. "But beside that, if you
win I will give you my fat little body to eat for your breakfast. But if
I win, Sir, I shall be king, and you must promise never, never, never,
to hurt me or any of my people."
"Very well. I promise," said the Eagle haughtily. "Come now, it is time
for the trial, you poor little foolish creature."
The birds were flapping their wings and singing eagerly, "Let us
begin--begin. We want to see who is to be king. Come, birds, to the
trial. Who can fly the highest? Come!"
Then the Eagle spread his great wings and mounted leisurely into the
air, straight toward the noonday sun. And after him rose a number of
other birds who wanted to be king,--the wicked Hawk, the bold Albatross,
and the Skylark singing his wonderful song. The long-legged Stork
started also, but that was only for a joke. "Fancy me for a king!" he
cried, and he laughed so that he had to come down again in a minute. But
the Wren was nowhere to be seen. The truth was, he had hopped ever so
lightly upon the Eagle's head, where he sat like a tiny crest. But the
Eagle did not know he was there.
Soon the Hawk and the Albatross and even the brave little Skylark fell
behind, and the Eagle began to chuckle to himself at his easy victory.
"Where are you, poor little Wren?" he cried very loudly, for he fancied
that the tiny bird must be left far, far below.
"Here I am, here I am, away up above you, Master Eagle!" piped the Wren
in a weak little voice. And the Eagle fancied the Wren was so far up in
the air that even his sharp eyes could not spy the tiny creature. "Dear
me!" said he to himself. "How extraordinary that he has passed me." So
he redoubled his speed and flew on, higher, higher.
Presently he called out again in a tremendous voice, "Well, where are
you now? Where are you now, poor little Wren?"
Once more he heard the tiny shrill voice from somewhere above piping,
"Here I am, here I am, nearer the sun than you, Master Eagle. Will you
give up now?"
Of course the Eagle would not give up yet. He flew on, higher and
higher, till the garden and its flock of patient birds waiting for their
king grew dim and blurry below. And at last even the mighty wings of the
Eagle were weary, for he was far above the clouds. "Surely," he thought,
"now the Wren is left miles behind." He gave a scream of triumph and
cried, "Where are you now, poor little Wren? Can you hear me at all,
down below there?"
But what was his amazement to hear the same little voice above his head
shrilling, "Here I am, here I am, Sir Eagle. Look up and see me, look!"
And there, sure enough, he was fluttering above the Eagle's head. "And
now, since I have mounted so much higher than you, will you agree that I
have won?"
"Yes, you have won, little Wren. Let us descend together, for I am weary
enough," cried the Eagle, much mortified; and down he swooped, on heavy,
discouraged wings.
"Yes, let us descend together," murmured the Wren, once more perching
comfortably on the Eagle's head. And so down he rode on this convenient
elevator, which was the first one invented in this world.
When the Eagle nearly reached the ground, the other birds set up a cry
of greeting.
"Hail, King Eagle!" they sang. "How high you flew! How near the sun! Did
he not scorch your Majesty's feathers? Hail, mighty king!" and they made
a deafening chorus. But the Eagle stopped them.
"The Wren is your king, not I," he said. "He mounted higher than I did."
"The Wren? Ha-ha! The _Wren_! We can't believe that The Wren flew
higher than you? No, no!" they all shouted. But just then the Eagle
lighted on a tree, and from the top of his head hopped the little Wren,
cocking his head and ruffling himself proudly.
"Yes, I mounted higher than he," he cried, "for I was perched on his
head all the while, ha-ha! And now, therefore, I am king, small though I
be."
Now the Eagle was very angry when he saw the trick that had been played
upon him, and he swooped upon the sly Wren to punish him. But the Wren
screamed, "Remember, remember your promise never to injure me or mine!"
Then the Eagle stopped, for he was a noble bird and never forgot a
promise. He folded his wings and turned away in disgust.
"Be king, then, O cheat and trickster!" he said.
"Cheat and trickster!" echoed the other birds. "We will have no such
fellow for our king. Cheat and trickster he is, and he shall be
punished. You shall be king, brave Eagle, for without your strength he
could never have flown so high. It is you whom we want for our
protector and lawmaker, not this sly fellow no bigger than a bean."
So the Eagle became their king, after all; and a noble bird he is, as
you must understand, or he would never have been chosen to guard our
nation's coat of arms. And besides this you may see his picture on many
a banner and crest and coin of gold or silver, so famous has he become.
But the Wren was to be punished. And while the birds were trying to
decide what should be done with him, they put him in prison in a
mouse-hole and set Master Owl to guard the door. Now while the judges
were putting their heads together the lazy Owl fell fast asleep, and out
of prison stole the little Wren and was far away before any one could
catch him. So he was never punished after all, as he richly deserved to
be.
The birds were so angry with old Master Owl for his carelessness that he
has never since dared to show his face abroad in daytime, but hides away
in his hollow tree. And only at night he wanders alone in the woods,
sorry and ashamed.