THE EAGLES' EYRIE.
'Where, yonder, in the upper air
The solemn eagles watch the sun.'
Did you ever see the sun rise? I hope so; but still I am sure you never
saw it from such a point as that whereon their winged conductors gently
deposited the castle and the forest children that early summer morning.
'Jump out,' said the voice they had all learnt to obey, when the
air-boat came to a stand-still a few feet above the rock. And the
children, who as yet had noticed nothing of the ground above which they
were hovering, for their eyes were fixed on the pink and azure and
emerald and gold, spreading out like a fairy kaleidoscope on the sky
before them, joined hands and sprang fearlessly on to they knew not
what. And as they did so, with a murmuring warble of farewell, the birds
flapped their wings, and the air-boat rose swiftly into the air and
disappeared from view.
The four looked at each other.
'Has godmother sailed away in it? I thought she was going to stay with
us,' exclaimed Maia in a disappointed tone.
'Oh, Maia,' said Silva, 'you don't yet understand godmother a bit. But
we must not stand here. You know the way, Waldo?'
'Here,' where they were standing, was, as I said, a rock, ragged and
bare, though lower down, its sides were clothed with short thymy grass.
And stretching behind them the children saw a beautiful expanse of hilly
ground, beautiful though treeless, for the heather and bracken and gorse
that covered it looked soft and mellow in the distance, more especially
with the lovely light and colour just now reflected from the sky.
But Waldo turned in the other direction. He walked a little way across
the hard, bare rock, which he seemed to be attentively examining, till
suddenly he stopped short, and tapped on the ground with a little stick
he had in his hand.
'It must be about here,' he said. The other three children came close
round him.
'Here,' exclaimed Silva, and she pointed to a small white cross cut in
the stone at their feet.
Waldo knelt down, and pressed the spot exactly in the centre of the
cross. Immediately a large slab of rock, forming a sort of door, but
fitting so closely when shut that no one would have suspected its
existence, opened inwards, disclosing a flight of steps. Waldo looked
round.
'This is the short cut to the face of the cliff,' he said. 'Shall I go
down first?'
'Yes, and I next,' said Rollo, eagerly springing forward.
Then followed Silva and Maia. The flight of steps was a short one. In a
few moments they found themselves in a rocky passage, wide enough for
them to walk along comfortably, one by one, and not dark, as light came
in from little shafts cut at intervals in the roof. The passage twisted
and turned about a good deal, but suddenly Waldo stopped, calling out:
'Here we are! Is not this worth coming to see?'
The passage had changed into a gallery, with the rock on one side only,
on the other a railing, to protect those walking along it from a
possible fall; for they were right on the face of an enormous cliff,
far down at the bottom of which they could distinguish the tops of
their old friends the firs. And far as the eye could reach stretched
away into the distance, miles and miles and miles, here rising, there
again sweeping downwards, the everlasting Christmas-trees!
The passage stopped suddenly. It ended in a sort of little shelf in the
rock, and higher up in the wall, at the back of this shelf as it were,
the children saw two large round holes cut in the rock: they were the
windows of the eagles' eyrie.
Waldo went forward, and with his little stick tapped three times on the
smooth, shining rock-wall. But the others, intently watching though they
were, could not see how a door opened--whether it drew back inwards or
rolled in sidewards. All they saw was that just before them, where a
moment before there had been the rock-surface, a great arched doorway
now invited them to enter.
Waldo glanced round, though without speaking. The other three
understood, and followed him through the doorway, which, in the same
mysterious way in which it had opened, was now closed up behind them.
But that it was so they hardly noticed, so delighted were they with what
they saw before them. It was the prettiest room, or hall, you could
imagine--the roof rising very high, and the light coming in through the
two round windows of which I told you. And the whole--roof, walls,
floor--was completely lined with what, at first sight, the children took
for some most beautifully-embroidered kind of velvet. But velvet it was
not. No embroidery ever showed the exquisite delicacy of tints, fading
into each other like the softest tones of music, from the purest white
through every silvery shade to the richest purple, or from deep glowing
scarlet to pink paler than the first blush of the peach-blossom, while
here and there rainbow wreaths shone out like stars on a glowing sky. It
was these wreaths that told the secret.
'Why,' exclaimed Maia, 'it is all _feathers_!'
'Yes,' said Silva, 'I had forgotten. I never was here before, but
godmother told me about it.'
'And where----?' Maia was going on, but a sound interrupted her. It was
that of a flutter of wings over their heads, and looking up the children
perceived two enormous birds slowly flying downwards to where they
stood, though whence they had come could not be seen.
They alighted and stood together--their great wings folded, while their
piercing eyes surveyed their guests.
'We make you welcome,' they said at last, in a low soft tone which
surprised the children, whose heads were full of the idea that eagles
were fierce and their only voice a scream. 'We have been looking for
your visit, of which our birds gave us notice. We have ordered a
collation to be prepared for you, and we trust you will enjoy the view.'
Waldo, who seemed to be master of the ceremonies to-day, stepped forward
a little in front of the others.
'We thank you,' he said quietly, making his best bow as he spoke.
The eagle queen raised her great wing--the left wing--and with it
pointed to a spot among the feather hangings where, though they had not
noticed it, the children now saw gleaming a silver knob.
'Up that stair leads to the balcony overhanging the cliff,' she said.
'There you will find our respected attendants, the falcon and the hawk,
who have purveyed for your wants. And before you leave, the king and I
hope to show you something of this part of our domains. _Au
revoir!_--the sun awaits us to bid him good-morning.'
And with a slow, majestic movement the two strange birds spread their
wings and rose upwards, where, though the children's eyes followed them
closely, they disappeared they knew not how or where.
Then Waldo turned the silver knob and opened a door, through which, as
the eagle queen had said, they saw a staircase mounting straight
upwards. It led out on to a balcony cut in the rock, but carefully
carpeted with moss, and with rustic seats and a rustic table, on which
were laid out four covers evidently intended for the four children. Two
birds, large, but very much smaller than the eagles, stood at the side,
each with a table-napkin over one wing, which so amused the children
that it was with difficulty they returned the exceedingly dignified
'reverence' with which the hawk and the falcon greeted them. And they
were rather glad when the two attendants spread their wings and flew
over the edge of the balcony, evidently going to fetch the dishes.
'What will they give us to eat, I wonder?' said Maia. 'I hope it won't
be pieces of poor little lambs, all raw, you know. That's what they
always tell you eagles eat in the natural history books.'
'Not the eagles of _this_ country,' said Silva. 'I am sure you never
read about them in your books. _Our_ eagles are not cruel and fierce;
they would never eat little lambs.'
'But they must kill lots of little birds, whether they eat them or not,'
said Maia, 'to get all those quantities and quantities of feathers.'
'Kill the little birds!' cried Silva and Waldo both at once. 'Kill their
own birds! Maia, what are you thinking of? As if any creature that lives
in Christmas-tree Land would kill any other! Why, the feathers are the
birds' presents to the king and queen. They keep all that drop off and
bring them once a year, and that's been done for years and years, till
the whole of the nest is lined with them.'
'How nice!' replied Maia. 'I'm very glad the eagles are so kind. But
they're not so _funny_ as the squirrels. They look so very solemn.'
'They must be solemn,' said Waldo. 'They're not like the squirrels, who
have nothing to do but jump about.'
'I beg your pardon,' said Rollo. 'Have you forgotten that the world
would stop if Mr. Bushy didn't climb to the top of the tree?'
'And what would happen if the eagles left off watching the sun?' said
Waldo.
'I don't know,' said Maia eagerly. 'Do tell us, Waldo.'
Waldo looked at her.
'I don't know either,' he said. 'Perhaps the sun would go to sleep, and
then there would be a nice confusion.'
'You're laughing at me,' said Maia, in rather an offended tone. 'I don't
see how I'm to be expected to know everything; if the squirrels and the
eagles and all the creatures here are different from everywhere else,
how could I tell?'
'Here's the collation!' exclaimed Rollo, and looking up, the others saw
the falcon and the hawk flying back again, carrying between them a large
basket, from which, when they had set it down beside the table, they
cleverly managed, with beaks and claws, to take all sorts of mysterious
things, which they arranged upon the table. There was no lamb, either
raw or roasted, for all the repast consisted of fruits. Fruits of every
kind the children had ever heard of, and a great many of which they did
not even know the names, but which were more delicious than you, who
have never tasted them, can imagine.
'You see the eagle king and queen have no need to kill poor little
lambs,' said Silva. And Maia agreed with her that no one who could get
such fruits to eat, need ever wish for any other food. While she was
speaking, the same soft rustle which they had heard before sounded
overhead, and again the two great majestic birds alighted beside them.
The four children started to their feet.
'Thank you so much for the delicious fruit, eagle king and eagle queen,'
said Maia, who was seldom backward at making speeches.
'We are glad you found it to your taste,' said the king. 'It has come
from many a far-away land--lands you have perhaps scarcely even dreamt
of, but which to us seem not so strange or distant.'
'Do you fly away so very far?' asked Maia, but the eagles only gleamed
at her with their wonderful eyes, and shook their heads.
'It is not for us to tell what you could not understand,' said the king.
'They who can gaze undazzled on the sun must see many things.'
Maia drew back a little.
'They frighten me rather,' she whispered to the others. 'They are so
solemn and mysterious.'
'But that needn't frighten you,' said Silva. 'Rollo isn't frightened.'
'Rollo's a boy,' replied Maia, as if that settled the matter.
Waldo now pointed out some steps in the rock leading up still higher.
'The eagles want us to go up there,' he said. 'We shall see right over
the forest and ever so far.'
And so they did, for the steps led up a long way till they ended on
another rock-shelf right on the face of the cliff. From here the great
fir-forests looked but like dark patches far below, while away, away in
the distance stretched on one side the great plain across which the
children had journeyed on their first coming to the white castle; and on
the other the distant forms of mountain ranges, gray-blue, shading
fainter and fainter till the clouds themselves looked more real.
It was cold, very cold, up here on the edge of the great bare rocks. The
beauty of the sunrise had sobered down into the chilly freshness of an
early summer morning; the world seemed still asleep, and the children
shivered a little.
'I don't think I should like to live always as high up as this,' said
Maia. 'It's very lonely and very cold.'
'You would need to be dressed in feathers like the eagles if you did,'
replied Silva; 'and if one had eyes like theirs, I dare say one would
never feel lonely. One would see so much.'
'I wonder,' said Maia--and then she stopped.
'What were you going to say?' asked Rollo.
Maia's eyes looked far over the plain as if, like the eagles, they would
pierce the distance.
'It was from there we came,' she said. 'I wonder if it will be from
there that father will come to take us away. Do you think that the
eagles will know when he is coming? do you think they will see him from
very far off?'
Silva looked over the plain without speaking, and into her dark eyes
there crept something that was not in Maia's blue ones.
'Maia,' exclaimed Rollo reproachfully, 'Silva is crying. She doesn't
like you to talk of us going away.'
In an instant Maia's arms were round Silva's neck.
'Don't cry, Silva--you mustn't,' she said. 'When we go away you and
Waldo shall come too--we will ask our father, won't we, Rollo?'
'And godmother?' said Silva, smiling again. 'What would she say? We are
her children, Maia, and the children of the forest. We should not be fit
to live as you do in the great world of men out away there. No; we can
always love each other, and perhaps you and Rollo will come away out of
the world sometimes to see us--but we must stay in our own country.'
'Never mind--don't talk about it just now,' said Maia. 'I wish I hadn't
said anything about father coming. I dare say he won't come for a very
long while, and when we can see you and Waldo we are never dull. It's
only at the castle when they give us such lots of lessons and everybody
is so prim and so cross if we're the least bit late. Oh, dear!--I was
forgetting--shan't we be late for breakfast this morning? Is godmother
coming to fetch us?'
'We are going home now,' said Waldo. 'But first we must say good-bye to
the eagles. Here they are,' for as he spoke the two royal birds came
circling down from overhead and settled themselves on the very edge of
the cliff, whose dizzy height they calmly overlooked--their gaze fixed
far beyond.
'That is where they always stay watching,' said Waldo, in a low voice,
and then the children went forward till they were but a few steps behind
the pair. Farther it would not have been safe to go.
'Good-bye, king and queen,' they said all together, and the eagles,
slowly turning round, though without moving from their places, answered
in their grave voices:
'Farewell, children. We will watch you, though you may not know it.
Farewell.'
Then Waldo led the others down the rock stair by which they had come
up--down past the balcony where they had had their collation of fruit,
till they found themselves in the feather-lined hall.
'There is something rather sad about the eagles,' said Maia. 'Do you
think it is watching so much that makes them sad?'
'Perhaps,' said Silva. 'Come and sit down here in this snug corner.
Look, there is a feather arm-chair for each of us--it is a little
chilly, don't you think?'
'Yes, perhaps it is. But tell me if you know why the eagles are sad.'
'I think they are more grave than sad,' replied Silva. 'I dare say
watching so much does make them so.'
'Why? Do they see so far? Do they see all sorts of things?' asked Maia
in a rather awe-struck tone. 'Are they like fairies, Silva?'
'I don't know exactly,' said Silva. 'But I think they are very wise, and
I expect they know a great deal.'
'But they can't know as much as godmother, and she isn't sad,' said
Maia.
'Sometimes she is,' said Silva. 'Besides, she has more to do than the
eagles. They have only to watch--she puts things right. You'll
understand better some day,' she added, seeing that Maia looked puzzled.
'But isn't it cold? Oh, see there--that's to wrap ourselves up in,' for
just at this moment there flapped down on them, from no one could tell
where, the great soft fluffy cloak or rug which had kept them so
beautifully warm during their air-journey.
'Come under the shawl,' cried Maia to the two boys, and all the children
drew their seats close together and wrapped the wonderful cloak well
round them.
'But aren't we going home soon?' said Maia. 'I'm so afraid of being
late.'
'Godmother knows all about it,' said Waldo. 'She's sent us this cloak on
purpose. There's nothing to do but sit still--till she tells us what
we're to do. I don't mind, for somehow I'm rather sleepy.'
'I think I am too,' said Rollo, and though Silva and Maia were less
ready to allow it, I think they must have felt the same, for somehow or
other two minutes later all the four were taking a comfortable nap, and
knew nothing more till a soft clear voice whispered in their ears:
'Children, it is time to wake up.'
'Time to go home! Are the birds coming for us again?' said Maia, rubbing
her eyes and staring about her. A voice softly laughing replied to her:
'Birds--what birds are you talking about? You're not awake yet, Maia,
and I've been telling you to wake ever so long.'
It was Rollo.
'You, why I thought it was godmother,' said Maia; 'I heard her say,
"Children, it is time to wake up," and I thought we were all in the
feather-hall still. How did we get back, Rollo?'
For 'back' they were. Maia in her own little bed in the white castle,
and Rollo standing beside her in his ordinary dress. Where were Waldo
and Silva--where the feather-hall--where the wonderful dresses in which
godmother had clothed them for the air-journey? Maia looked up at Rollo
as she spoke, with disappointment in her eyes.
'We _are_ back,' he said, 'and that's all there is to say about it, as
far as I can see. But come, Maia, don't look so unhappy. We've had great
fun, and we must be very good after it to please godmother. It's a
lovely day, and after we've finished our lessons we can have some nice
runs in the fields. Jump up--you're not a bit tired, are you? I'm not.'
'Nor am I,' said Maia, slowly bestirring herself. 'But I'm rather dull.
I'm afraid we shan't see them again for a good while, Rollo.'