Suddenly the passageway came to an end, Laurie does not remember quite
how it happened, but there he was up in the dove-cote, high above the
farmyard, with the pigeons cooing and circling about him.
What a beautiful dove-cote it was, ever so much larger than one would
have supposed: indeed it was like a real house.
It did not seem at all strange for the cooing to sound more and more
like words, and presently Laurie found that the pigeons were inviting
him to enter. Inside how beautiful it all was! Velvet carpets lay on the
floor, with the most exquisite patterns traced on them; in each room the
pattern was different, yet always changing, for they were made by the
tiny feet of the pigeons as they moved about. Soft curtains hung at the
doors. They were wonderful feather curtains; instead of having to push
them to one side, all that one had to do was to move towards them, and
they folded into wings. Exquisite music sounded in the rooms, that was
the wind, and it sang of the countries and people it had seen in its
travels. It sang of the waving corn, the ships at sea, the flames
leaping in the fireplace, it crooned a lullaby it had heard a mother
singing to her baby--now the voice of the wind was soft and low, that
was when it remembered the places it had been in, where there was peace
and happiness; now it was loud and harsh, for it had also been in
terrible storms, and wild places, ah! they were wonderful stories. No
one was idle in the dove-cote, some pigeons were kept busy writing the
news that the wind brought, others flew here and there, for they were
the messengers, and must carry the news over the farm.
One pigeon had a ring over his ankle: he was very important indeed,
quite a personage in the dove-cote.
[Illustration: Some pigeons were kept busy writing the news that the
wind brought]
"They are going to dance for you," he said to Laurie, and seven pigeons
stepped into the centre of the room. They began with a faint flutter of
their wings, turning their heads from side to side, gradually growing
swifter in their motion, until their brilliant colors blended and
intermingled in a beautiful prismatic effect. It was like a wonderful
rainbow dance, only the colors changed as the pigeons moved about, and
they opened and closed their wings in such a way, that they seemed to
ripple and flow as water does over the stones.
Their cooing gradually sounded more and more like water gurgling, and
Laurie listened and listened, until he found his head nodding--he was
almost asleep--no, he was not asleep, he opened his eyes wide, there was
the pigeon still, with the ring about his ankle, but the dancing pigeons
were no longer there; the blue sky shone between trunks of trees, and a
real brook sparkled over the stones--somehow or other they were walking
through a wood, the same wood on the edge of the fields, that they had
driven past on their way to the farm: how quiet it was and how
deliciously soft the moss underfoot, while a gentle breeze swayed the
trees overhead.
[Illustration: _"Now we will stop at the squirrel house," said the
Pigeon._]
"Now we will stop at the squirrel's house," said the pigeon, as they
stopped at an old tree. "Rap-tap-rap" with his beak on a knot-hole in
the trunk, and a fat squirrel opened the door. What a lot of chattering!
he was inviting them to enter. "How delightful," thought Laurie as they
stepped inside, "now I shall see what a squirrel's house is really
like."
And indeed it was very different from what he had supposed an old tree
to be like inside; instead, there was a real little staircase, carpeted
with green moss, winding up through the hollow trunk, there were
landings at the different branches, with tiny doors opening off them,
and the branches themselves were all little rooms with knot-holes for
windows, across which green leaves were hung for curtains.
The walls were papered with the most beautiful paper in the world; in
one room it was all blossoms with the most delicate odor; in another the
walls were hung with green leaves; in another room great red and yellow
autumn leaves festooned the walls. "You see this is the inside out or
rather the outside in of the tree," explained the squirrel; "this is
where the blossoms and leaves are kept when not in use."
It was all a little confusing at first to Laurie, for the squirrels
seemed to be in such haste, but they were so friendly, and chattered so
pleasantly to him that somehow or other he understood everything they
were saying, though they talked in squirrel language, and so by-and-by
he felt more at home, and sat down while they brought him some
refreshments.
[Illustration: Such delicious morsels, served in the most tempting
manner]
Such delicious morsels, served in the most tempting manner! Purée of
chestnuts, and hickory-nut cake--wonderful cherry cordial, made, the
squirrels explained to Laurie, out of melted sap of the wild cherry
tree--exquisite walnuts baked in acorn cups. Oh! I can't tell you half
what there was, for Laurie did not know himself, but it was all very
delicious, and the squirrels too seemed to think it an important
occasion, for there was a great deal of whisking of tails, and the
squirrel waiters sat up very stiffly with their little paws held up in
front of them, as though they knew how much was expected of them and
meant to do their share. Every now and then Laurie would see a pair of
bright eyes peeping at him over the stair, then off would scurry a baby
squirrel afraid of being caught, "for all the world," thought Laurie,
"the way we do at home when we are forbidden to come down when mother is
giving a party, so watch instead from a landing on the stair when
nurse's back is turned."
[Illustration: _The squirrel led the way down the winding stair._]
After the refreshments, there was more bowing and waving of bushy tails
and hand shaking or paw shaking, I do not know which--for it was time to
be off; Laurie thanked them very much and said he would like to come
again, which was very true indeed, and he said in his most "grown up
way" that he had had a delightful time, and the squirrels seemed pleased
and nodded again, and the same old squirrel, who must have been the
door-keeper, for he kept jingling a great bunch of keys in his hands,
now led the way down the winding stair again, until they reached what
must have been the cellar part of the tree, where the squirrels kept
their stores for the winter. It had grown so dark that their guide now
took a lantern down from the wall and, fastening a glow worm inside to
light the way, showed Laurie great piles of nuts and acorns stacked in
the corners. After a while they came to a little door and, passing
through it--the squirrel leading the way, after him the pigeon, and
Laurie bringing up the rear--they found themselves in a long passage,
smelling of earth and mould. "It surely must be underground," thought
Laurie, "I wonder if the moles and mice have streets just as we do. Oh,
dear! I do hope we don't meet that dreadful turkey-gobbler." Before he
had time to think much about it, they came to another little door, on
the other side of which was a stair that evidently led up into another
tree.
Here the squirrel with the lantern bade them good-bye, and disappeared
down the corridor. The pigeon led the way up the stair, at the top of
which was a rough wooden door. "We must leave a message here," said he,
tapping on the door, and after waiting some time, Laurie thought he
heard a gruff voice say, "To-who-to-who?" "Why doesn't he come and see
instead of asking?" thought Laurie, but just then the door opened, and
an old owl put out his head.
[Illustration: An old owl put out his head]
[Illustration: The owl]