THE FAIRY'S STORY CONCLUDED
"The owl replied softly, telling her errand, praising the bravery of the
frog, and evidently pleasing the kingfisher with the news of the death
of his enemy the night-hawk.
"'I will go,' he answered. 'I do not pretend to be chivalric; I should
prefer to sleep; nevertheless, I will go. Rise, follow-me. I expected to
breakfast at home; now we will get some seafood.'
"'He is always thus,' whispered the owl, as Arthur and she rose high in
the air. 'He is a wonderful naturalist, a student of ichthyology, has a
vast and profound fund of knowledge, but a great gourmand, always
considering what he will eat; but he is reliable; we may trust him.'
"They sailed now high, now low, over ravines and gulfs, until the
continuous murmur which had accompanied them deepened into the steady,
solemn roar of the ocean. Great crags, broad sands, and huge waves
tossing their white crests now met their eyes.
"The soft faint gray of early dawn lit the heavens. The kingfisher
perched himself on the top of a rock, and watched the seething waves
with a steady and keen outlook. The owl fluttered down to the long line
of breakers, and bade Arthur notice the immense quantity of sea-weed
fringing the rocks in all directions.
"'Now how to carry it back is the question,' said Arthur, rather
dolorously.
"'My friend, have no fear,' said the owl. 'Go to work bravely, and
gather all you can, then we will arrange to transport it. Hasten,
however, as much as you can.'
"Arthur hopped about zealously. He was half deafened with the thunder of
the waves, half blinded with the dashing spray, half drowned with the
salt-water pouring from every cliff and cranny of the rocks. Still he
tore and clutched at the sea-weed, dragging it in masses larger than his
own frog body to where the owl waited for him on the beach, in a sort of
grotto hollowed out by the waves. There they piled it until they both
were assured they had the proper quantity. Then the owl flew to a
promontory and hailed the kingfisher. Arthur, quite worn out, fell
asleep. When he awoke, he found him self most strangely placed.
"So soundly had he slept that the owl and kingfisher, having completed
their arrangements for the removal of the sea-weed, had removed Arthur
also, and he woke to find himself on the back of an enormous sturgeon,
with sea-weed under him, over him, and about him. Tightly about the
sturgeon was bound an old rope, which the kingfisher had procured from
the remains of a wreck on the rocks, and in which he had entangled
the sturgeon; this rope the owl and kingfisher took turns in holding,
keeping the sturgeon near the surface of the waves by its check upon his
movements, which were very bold and rapid. Thus, by the double force of
flying and swimming, Arthur was carried with immense speed into the
quiet waters of a bay from which they had emerged on arriving at the
ocean.
[Illustration: MAKING THE STURGEON USEFUL]
"From the bay they sailed up into the river, and were coursing rapidly
on to its narrower surface, when the sturgeon suddenly gave a great
leap, very nearly throwing Arthur and his precious load off his back.
"The owl screamed, the kingfisher shouted hoarsely, but tightened his
hold upon the rope, while the sturgeon dashed madly on.
"Again he made another frantic leap, whereupon the kingfisher gave him a
thrust with his beak, to which the sturgeon replied,
"'The current is becoming too shallow; I can go no farther. I _must_
have air. How can you expect me to go up this trout stream? have you no
mercy for such a beast of burden as you have made me?'
"'Forward again!' shouted the kingfisher, tightening the rope once
more.
"Arthur felt the sturgeon shiver, and was conscious that his movements
were weaker. Another leap, and he burst the rope; but as he jumped he
tossed his load of sea-weed high in the air; it fell, and Arthur with
it, on a rock.
"The owl gave a long, dismal cry, the kingfisher swept madly away after
the sturgeon, and Arthur, bruised and sore, lay panting on the rock. For
a long while he could do nothing. The owl went off in search of food,
promising to return at nightfall. The day wore on. Arthur, weak with
hunger, tried to devour some of the sea-weed. It was too bitter and
salty. Leaning over the edge of the rock, he saw a shoal of tiny fishes
playing hide-and-seek in the eddies of the stream. He clutched at one of
them and devoured it. Never had he tasted a sweeter morsel. He caught
another, and another, until his hunger was fully appeased. Evening came
again; the moon shone early; Arthur was awakened from a long nap by the
hooting of the owl, which said,
"'Here I am again, my distressed friend.'
"At the same moment the kingfisher swooped down on them, and stood
tilting and flapping his wings on a corner of the rock. 'Now,' said he,
'as I am a bird of my word, and have promised to help you, we will
proceed to business. This sea-weed is dry, as you see, and very much
lighter. You, Mrs. Owl, can easily carry it, while I will take your
young friend Mr. Frog. Let us be off at once, you, madam, directing the
flight.'
"The kingfisher and Arthur then heaped the sea-weed upon the owl, and
Arthur, clambering on the rather oily back of the kingfisher, was once
again going over the tree-tops.
"Before morning they had reached the desired spot, the flat rock under
the chestnut-tree, placed the sea-weed upon it, and, hardly waiting for
thanks, the kingfisher left them.
"Arthur thanked the owl warmly, assuring her of his deep gratitude. To
which the owl replied, 'You have done me quite as good service, and my
thanks are quite as due to you. I return to my empty nest a desolate
mother, but never shall I forget your generous sympathy. Possibly I may
find consolation, but should I ever raise another brood, it could never
equal the beauty of my lost darlings. Alas! we feathered creatures have
great trials: we toil diligently for our families, build nests at great
cost of time and effort, often to see them swept away by the winds; or,
our nests lasting, and unattacked by enemies, many a young bird is
thrown to the earth by the violence of storms, and comes to an untimely
end through starvation. Sympathy, therefore, we appreciate; it helps us
to bear our sorrows with becoming fortitude. Never shall I forget your
gallantry, my friend; the thought of it will cheer many a solitary hour
when all the world is asleep. I bid you farewell.' So saying, the owl
flapped her wings and was gone.
"Arthur hopped away from the chestnut-tree to the place where he had
lost himself. It was early morning, but he was wearied, and slept in
spite of all his anxiety. When he awoke he was no longer a frog, but a
very hungry boy. The noonday sun was shining, and at his side hopped a
little brown bird. It twittered gladly, as if congratulating him, but
not one word could he understand. Before this adventure he would have
probably frightened it away, but now he reached out his hand softly and
stroked its feathers, then seeking berries, he placed them where the
little creature could feast upon them. It peered at him with its bright
little eyes, and even perched upon his shoulder. Never again did Arthur
idly destroy any living creature of the woods--not the humblest weed or
flower, bright-winged insect or speckled egg. Nor did he loiter again
when sent upon errands. The elves thereafter left him in peace."
"Good-bye, dear Phil; I am off now. This is my last story."
"Where am I? Has the music stopped? Was it my wind harp--my poor little
wind harp?"
"Why, Phil, your wind harp is broken. Did you not know that it fell from
your window last night?" said Lisa, coming into the dining-room.
"No. I wonder if I shall ever see the wind fairy again?"
"Dreaming again, Phil?" said Lisa.
"You always think I dream, Lisa, whenever I speak of fairies."
"Do I, dear? Well, you must get ready now for Graham; he is coming to
take you out on the lake. Miss Schuyler will not be home to dinner, and
we three are to have ours on Eagle Island."
Phil went up-stairs and gathered together the broken pieces of his wind
harp. He folded each piece up carefully in paper, and put them all away.
"No more fairy stories," he said to himself. "Well, I suppose I am
getting beyond them, and must put up with sober facts; but they are not
half so nice," he said, with a sigh--"not half so nice." Then he took
out his sketch-book and pencils, and prepared for work.