L. Frank Baum (6 page)

"I am sure of that," replied Twinkle, earnestly. "You are too soft and
fluffy and pretty to be bad."

"It isn't the prettiness," said the gray owl, evidently pleased by the
compliment. "It is the nature of owls to be kind and sympathetic. Those
who do not know us very well say harsh things about us, because we fly
in the night, when most other birds are asleep, and sleep in the
daytime when most other birds are awake."

"Why do you do that?" asked Chubbins.

"Because the strong light hurts our eyes. But, although we are abroad
in the night, we seek only our natural prey, and obey the Great Law of
the forest more than some others do."

"What is the Great Law?" enquired Twinkle, curiously.

"Love. It is the moral law that is above all laws made by living
creatures. The whole forest is ruled by love more than it is by fear.
You may think this is strange when you remember that some animals eat
birds, and some birds eat animals, and the dreadful creeping things eat
us both; but nevertheless we are so close to Nature here that love and
tenderness for our kind influences us even more than it does mankind—
the careless and unthinking race from which you came. The residents of
the forest are good parents, helpful neighbors, and faithful friends.
What better than this could be said of us?"

"Nothing, I'm sure, if it is true," replied the girl.

"Over in the Land of Paradise," continued the owl, thoughtfully, "the
birds are not obliged to take life in order to live themselves; so they
call us savage and fierce. But I believe our natures are as kindly as
those of the Birds of Paradise."

"Where is this Land of Paradise you speak of?" asked Twinkle.

"Directly in the center of our forest. It is a magical spot, protected
from intrusion not by any wall or barred gates, but by a strong wind
that blows all birds away from that magnificent country except the
Birds of Paradise themselves. There is a legend that man once lived
there, but for some unknown crime was driven away. But the birds have
always been allowed to inhabit the place because they did no harm."

"I'd like to see it," said Chubbins.

"So would I," confessed the gray owl, with a sigh; "but there is no use
of my attempting to get into the Paradise of Birds, because the wind
would blow me back. But now it is getting quite dark, and I must be off
to seek my food. Mrs. 'Possum and I have agreed to hunt together,
tonight."

"Who is Mrs. 'Possum?" the girl asked.

"An animal living in the lowest hollow of this tree," answered the owl.
"She is a good-natured creature, and hunts by night, as I do. She is
slow, but, being near the ground, she can spy a mouse much quicker than
I can, and then she calls to me to catch it. So between us we get
plenty of game and are helpful to each other. The only drawback is that
Mrs. 'Possum has four children, which she carries in her pouch wherever
she goes, and they have to be fed as well as their mother. So the
'possums have five mouths to my one, and it keeps us busy to supply
them all."

"It's very kind of you to help her," remarked Twinkle.

"Oh, she helps me, too," returned the owl, cheerfully. "But now good
night, my dears. You will probably be sound asleep when I get home
again."

Off flew Mrs. Hootaway with these words, and her wings moved so
noiselessly that she seemed to fade away into the darkness like a
ghost.

The child-larks sat looking at the silver moon for a time; but
presently Twinkle's eyelids drooped and she fell fast asleep, and
Chubbins was not long in following her example.

A loud shouting and a bang that echoed like a clap of thunder through
the forest awoke the bird-children from their dreams.

Opening their eyes with a start they saw that the gray dawn was
breaking and a sort of morning twilight made all objects in the forest
distinct, yet not so brilliant as the approaching daylight would.
Shadows still lay among the bushes and the thickest branches; but
between the trees the spaces were clearly visible.

The children, rudely awakened by the riot of noise in their ears, could
distinguish the barking of dogs, the shouts of men calling to the
brutes, and the scream of an animal in deep distress. Immediately
after, there was a whirl overhead and the gray owl settled on the limb
beside their nest.

"They've got her!" she exclaimed, in a trembling, terrified voice. "The
men have shot Mrs. 'Possum dead, and the dogs are now tearing her four
babies limb from limb!"

"Where are they?" whispered Twinkle, her little heart beating as
violently as if the dread destroyers had always been her mortal
enemies.

"Just below us. Isn't it dreadful? We had such a nice night together,
and Mrs. 'Possum was so sweet and loving in caring for her little ones
and feeding them! And, just as we were nearly home again, the dogs
sprang upon my friend and the men shot her dead. We had not even
suspected, until then, that our foes were in the forest."

Twinkle and Chubbins craned their necks over the edge of the nest and
looked down. On the ground stood a man and a boy, and two great dogs
were growling fiercely and tearing some bloody, revolting object with
their cruel jaws.

"Look out!" cried the voice of Wisk, the squirrel. "He's aiming at
you—look out!"

They ducked their heads again, just as the gun roared and flamed fire
beneath them.

"Oh-h-h!" wailed Mrs. Hootaway, fluttering violently beside them. "They
struck me that time—the bullet is in my heart. Good-bye, my dears.
Remember that—all—is love; all is—love!"

Her voice died away to a whisper, and she toppled from the limb.
Twinkle and Chubbins tried to save their dying friend from falling, but
the gray owl was so much bigger than they that they could not support
the weight of her body. Slowly she sank to the ground and fell upon the
earth with a dull sound that was dreadful to hear.

Instantly Twinkle darted from the nest and swooped downward, alighting
on the ground beside the owl's quivering body. A big dog came bounding
toward her. The man was reloading his gun, a few paces away.

"Call off your dog!" shouted Twinkle, wildly excited. "How dare you
shoot the poor, harmless birds? Call off your dog, I say!"

But, even as she spoke, the words sounded in her own ears strange and
unnatural, and more like the chirping of a bird than the language of
men. The hunter either did not hear her or he did not understand her,
and the dog snarled and bared its wicked teeth as it sprang greedily
upon the child-lark.

Twinkle was too terrified to move. She glared upon the approaching
monster helplessly, and it had almost reached her when a black object
fell from the skies with the swiftness of a lightning streak and struck
the dog's back, tearing the flesh with its powerful talons and driving
a stout, merciless beak straight through the skull of the savage brute.

The dog, already dead, straightened out and twitched convulsively. The
man shouted angrily and sprang upon the huge bird that had slain his
pet, at the same time swinging his gun like a club.

"Quick!" said the eagle to Twinkle, "mount with me as swiftly as you
can."

With the words he rose into the air and Twinkle darted after him, while
Chubbins, seeing their flight from his nest, joined them just in time
to escape a shot from the boy's deadly gun.

The inquisitive squirrel, however, had stuck his head out to see what
was happening, and one of the leaden bullets buried itself in his
breast. Chubbins saw him fall back into his hollow and heard his
agonized scream; but he could not stay to help his poor friend. An
instant later he had joined the eagle and Twinkle, and was flying as
hard and swift as his wonderful lark wings could carry him up, up into
the blue sky.

The sunshine touched them now, while below the tragic forest still lay
buried in gloom.

"We are quite safe here, for I am sure no shot from a gun could reach
us," said the eagle. "So let us rest upon our wings for a while. How
lucky it was that I happened to be around in time to rescue you, my
little friends."

"I am very grateful, indeed," answered Twinkle, holding her wings
outstretched so that she floated lightly in the air beside her rescuer.
"If you had been an instant later, the dog would have killed me."

"Very true," returned the eagle. "I saw your danger while I was in the
air, and determined to act quickly, although I might myself have been
shot by the man had his gun been loaded. But I have noticed that a bold
action is often successful because it causes surprise, and the foe does
not know what to do."

"I'm 'shamed of those people," said Chubbins, indignantly. "What right
had they to come to the forest and kill the pretty owl, and the dear
little squirrel, and the poor mama 'possum and her babies?"

"They had the right of power," said the eagle, calmly. "It would be a
beautiful world were there no destroyers of life in it; but the earth
and air and water would then soon become so crowded that there would
not be room for them all to exist. Don't blame the men."

"But they are cruel," said Twinkle, "and kill innocent, harmless birds
and animals, instead of the wicked ones that could be better spared."

"Cruelty is man's nature," answered the eagle. "Of all created things,
men, tigers and snakes are known to be the most cruel. From them we
expect no mercy. But now, what shall be our next movement? I suppose it
will be best for you to keep away from the forest until the men are
gone. Would you like to visit my home, and meet my wife and children?"

"Yes, indeed!" cried Twinkle; "if you will be kind enough to let us."

"It will be a great pleasure to me," said the eagle. "Follow me
closely, please."

He began flying again, and they kept at his side. By and by they
noticed a bright, rosy glow coming from a portion of the forest beneath
them.

"What is that?" asked Chubbins.

"It is the place called the Paradise of Birds," answered their
conductor. "It is said to be the most beautiful place in all the world,
but no one except the Birds of Paradise are allowed to live there.
Those favored birds sometimes enter our part of the forest, but we are
never allowed to enter theirs."

"I'd like to see that place," said Twinkle.

"Well, you two child-larks are different from all other birds,"
remarked the eagle, "and for that reason perhaps you would be allowed
to visit the paradise that is forbidden the rest of us. If ever I meet
one of the beautiful birds that live there, I will ask it to grant you
the privilege."

"Do!" said Twinkle and Chubbins, in one eager breath. They flew for a
long time, high in the air, but neither of the bird-children seemed to
tire in the least. They could not go quite as fast as the eagle,
however, who moderated his speed so that they could keep up with him.

Gradually the forest passed out of sight and only bleak, rugged
mountains were below them. One peak rose higher than the others, and
faced the sea, and to this point the great eagle directed their flight.

On a crag that jutted out from the mountain was the eagle's nest, made
of rude sticks of wood gathered from the forest. Sitting beside the
nest was Mrs. Eagle, larger and more pompous even than her husband,
while squatting upon the edge of the nest were two half-grown eaglets
with enormous claws and heads, but rather skinny bodies that were
covered with loose and ragged feathers. Neither the nest nor the
eaglets appeared to be very clean, and a disagreeable smell hung over
the place.

"This is funny," said Mrs. Eagle, looking at the child-larks with
surprise. "Usually you kill your game before you bring it home,
Jonathan; but today it seems our dinner has flown to us willingly."

"They're for us!" cried one of the eaglets, making a quick dash to
seize Twinkle, who darted out of his reach.

"One for each of us!" screamed the other eaglet, rushing at Chubbins.

"Peace—be quiet!" said the eagle, sternly. "Cannot you tell friends
from food, you foolish youngsters? These are two little friends of mine
whom I have invited to visit us; so you must treat them in a civil
manner."

"Why not eat them?" asked one of the eaglets, looking at the
child-larks with hungry eyes.

"Because I forbid you. They are my guests, and must be protected and
well treated. And even if this were not so, the larks are too small to
satisfy your hunger, you little gluttons."

"Jonathan," said Mrs. Eagle, coldly, "do not reproach our offspring for
their hunger. We sent you out this morning to procure a supply of food,
and we expected you to bring us home something good to eat, instead of
these useless little creatures."

The eagle seemed annoyed at being scolded in this manner.

"I had an adventure in the forest," he said, "and came near being shot
and killed by a man. That is the reason I came home so soon."

Twinkle and Chubbins were standing together at the edge of the crag
when one of the eaglets suddenly spread out his wide, stiff wings and
pushed them over the precipice. They recovered themselves before they
had fallen far, and flew to the ledge again just in time to see the
father eagle cuff his naughty son very soundly. But the mother only
laughed in her harsh voice and said:

"It is so early in the day, Jonathan, that I advise you to go again in
search of food. Our sweet darlings will not be comforted until they
have eaten."

"Very well," answered the eagle. "I am sorry you cannot treat my guests
more politely, for they are all unaccustomed to such rudeness. But I
see that it will be better for me to take them away with me at once."

"Do," said Mrs. Eagle; and the eaglets cried: "Better let us eat 'em,
daddy. They are not very big, but they're better than no breakfast at
all."