L. Frank Baum (8 page)

"We'll try to be good," promised Chubbins.

"I would not dare to take any of my own people there," continued the
bluejay, flying swiftly along as they talked together; "but you two are
different, and more like the fairy Birds of Paradise themselves than
like our forest birds. That is the reason I feel sure the Guardian will
admit you."

"I'm naughty sometimes, and so is Chubbins," said Twinkle, honestly.
"But we try not to be any naughtier than we can help."

"I am sure you will behave very nicely," replied the bluejay.

After a time the rosy glow appeared reflected in the blue sky, and as
they flew toward it the soft and delightful radiance seemed to grow and
deepen in intensity. It did not dazzle their eyes in the least, but as
the light penetrated the forest and its furthest rays fell upon the
group, they experienced a queer sense of elation and light-hearted joy.

But now the breeze freshened and grew more strong, pressing against
their feathered breasts so gently yet powerfully that they soon
discovered they were not advancing at all, but simply fluttering in the
air.

"Drop down to the ground," whispered the bluejay; and they obeyed his
injunction and found that close to the earth the wind was not so
strong.

"That is a secret I learned some time ago," said their friend. "Most
birds who seek to enter the Paradise try to beat against the wind, and
are therefore always driven back; but there is just one way to approach
the Guardian near enough to converse with him. After that it depends
entirely upon his good-will whether you get any farther."

The wind still blew so strongly that it nearly took their breath away,
but by creeping steadily over the ground they were able to proceed
slowly, and after a time the pressure of the wind grew less and less,
until it suddenly ceased altogether.

Then they stopped to rest and to catch their breaths, but before this
happened Twinkle and Chubbins both uttered exclamations of amazement at
the sight that met their eyes.

Before them was a grove composed of stately trees not made of wood, but
having trunks of polished gold and silver and leaves of exquisite
metallic colorings. Beneath the trees was a mass of brilliant flowers,
exceedingly rare and curious in form, and as our little friends looked
upon them these flowers suddenly began a chant of greeting and then
sang a song so sweet and musical that the lark-children were entranced
and listened in rapt delight.

When the song ended the flowers all nodded their heads in a pretty way,
and Twinkle drew a long breath and murmured:

"Isn't it odd to hear flowers sing? I'm sure the birds themselves
cannot beat that music."

"They won't try," replied the policeman, "for Birds of Paradise do not
sing."

"How strange!" exclaimed the girl.

"The land they live in is so full of music that they do not need to,"
continued the bluejay. "But before us is the entrance, leading through
the limbs of that great golden tree you see at the left. Fly swiftly
with me, and perch upon the middle branch."

With these words he darted toward the tree, and Twinkle and Chubbins
followed. In a few seconds they alighted upon the branch and found
themselves face to face with the first Bird of Paradise they had yet
seen.

He possessed a graceful carriage and a most attractive form, being in
size about as large as a common pigeon. His eyes were shrewd but gentle
in expression and his pose as he stood regarding the newcomers was
dignified and impressive. But the children had little time to note
these things because their wondering eyes were riveted upon the bird's
magnificent plumage. The feathers lay so smoothly against his body that
they seemed to present a solid surface, and in color they were a
glistening emerald green upon the neck and wings, shading down on the
breast to a softer green and then to a pure white. The main
wing-feathers were white, tipped with vivid scarlet, and the white
feathers of his crest were also tipped with specks of flame. But his
tail feathers were the most beautiful of all his gay uniform. They
spread out in the shape of a fan, and every other feather was brilliant
green and its alternate feather snow white.

"How lovely!" cried Twinkle, and the bird bowed its head and with a
merry glance from its eyes responded:

"Your admiration highly honors me, little stranger."

"This," said Policeman Bluejay, "is the important official called the
Guardian of the Entrance of Paradise. Sir Guardian, permit me to
introduce to you two children of men who have been magically
transformed into skylarks against their will. They are not quite birds,
because their heads retain the human shape; but whatever form they may
bear, their natures are sweet and innocent and I deem them worthy to
associate for a brief time with your splendid and regal race. Therefore
I have brought them here to commend them to your hospitality and
good-will, and I hope you will receive them as your guests."

"What are your names, little strangers?" asked the Guardian.

"Mama calls me Twinkle," said the girl.

"I'm Chubbins," said the boy.

The Guardian looked attentively at the bluejay.

"You know our regulations," said he; "no birds of the forest are
admitted to our Paradise."

"I know," replied the policeman. "I will await my little friends here.
It is pleasure enough for me to have just this glimpse of your
beautiful fairyland."

The Guardian nodded his approval of this speech.

"Very well," he answered, "you shall remain and visit with me. If all
forest birds were like you, my friend, there would be little danger in
admitting them into our society. But they are not, and the laws must be
regarded. As for the child-larks, I will send them first to the King,
in charge of the Royal Messenger, whom I will now summon."

He tossed his head upward with an abrupt motion, and in the tree-top a
chime of golden bells rang musically in the air. The flowers beneath
them caught up the refrain, and sang it softly until another bird came
darting through the air and alighted on the golden limb beside the
Guardian.

The newcomer was differently garbed from the other. His plumage was
orange and white, the crest and wing-feathers being tipped with bright
blue. Nor was he so large as the Guardian, nor so dignified in
demeanor. Indeed, his expression was rather merry and roguish, and as
he saw the strangers he gave a short, sharp whistle of surprise.

"My dear Ephel," said the Guardian, "oblige me by escorting these
child-larks to the presence of his Majesty the King."

"I am delighted to obey your request," answered Ephel the Messenger,
brightly. Then, turning to Twinkle and Chubbins, he added: "I trust you
will find my society agreeable during our flight to the royal monarch
of Paradise."

Twinkle was too much embarrassed by this politeness to answer at once,
but Chubbins said "Sure thing!" in a matter-of-fact voice, and the
Messenger nodded gaily and continued:

"Then we will go, if it pleases you."

He spread his wings in a flash of color and sped away into the
Paradise, and the children eagerly followed him.

More and more magnificence was unfolded as they advanced into this
veritable fairyland of the birds. Vines of silver climbed up the golden
trunks of trees and mingled their twining threads with the brilliant
leaves. And now upon the trees appeared jewelled blossoms that sparkled
most exquisitely in the rosy-hued radiance that, in this favored spot,
had taken the place of sunshine. There were beds of plants with
wide-spreading leaves that changed color constantly, one hue slowly
melting into another and no two leaves on the same plant having the
same color at the same time. Yet in spite of the vivid coloring that
prevailed everywhere, each combination seemed in perfect harmony and
served to delight the senses.

Bushes that emitted a grateful fragrance bore upon slender branches
little bells that at times tinkled in the perfumed breeze and played
sweet melodies, while here and there were clusters of fountain-lilies
that shot sprays of crystal water high into the air. When the water
fell back again and the drops struck against the broad leaves of the
plants, they produced a melodious sound that was so delightful that
Twinkle thought she could listen to it for hours.

Their guide flew silently on, and the two children were so much amazed
by their surroundings that they had no words for questions or even
remarks.

The scene was ever shifting and becoming more and more lovely and
fascinating, and the paradise was more extensive than they had thought
it.

By and bye Ephel the Messenger approached the central part, where was a
great arbor thickly covered with masses of pure white flowers. Some of
these were large, like chrysanthemums and mammoth white double roses,
while among them were twined smaller and more delicate blossoms, like
the bells of lilies-of-the-valley.

Ephel entered the arch of the arbor and flew on, for it was of great
extent and continually enlarged from the point of entrance, so that at
last the child-larks found themselves in a lofty circular chamber
banked on sides and roof with solid masses of the snow-white flowers,
which filled the air with a sweet and agreeable perfume. The floor was
also a mass of white blossoms, so that the place resembled the inside
of a huge cornucopia.

But the eyes of the little strangers were not directed so much to the
arbor itself as to the group of splendid birds that occupied the
flower-chamber and perched upon a wide-spreading bush of filigree gold
that rose from the middle of the floor and spread its dainty branches
in every direction.

On the lower branches sat many birds of marvellous colorings, some
having blue the predominant tint in their feathers, and others green,
or scarlet, or brilliant yellows. In strong contrast with these were a
few modest-looking birds with soft brown feathers covering their
graceful forms, that sat silently upon the lowest and most retired
branch of the golden bush; but still greater was the contrast of all
present with the magnificence of the one occupying the topmost branch.

This gorgeous creature, whose splendor dominated the white bower, at
once won the children's attention, and they had no doubt they were
gazing upon the King Bird of Paradise.

The feathers of his head and neck were so fine that they looked like a
covering of velvet. These seemed to be, at first, of a delicate
lavender color, but the children observed that they shone with a
different tint at every movement the King made. The body feathers, also
as glossy as velvet, were of a rich royal purple, shading to lavender
and then to white upon his breast. His wing plumes were white, tipped
with specks of lustrous gold.

But by far the most astonishing part of the King's plumage was that
which consisted of the dainty, fern-like plumes that rose from his body
and tail and spread in graceful and bewildering curves both right and
left, until his form seemed to be standing in a feathery bower of
resplendent beauty. All the colors of the rainbow were seen in these
delicate feathers, and against the white background of the arch this
monarch of the feathered world appeared more royally magnificent than
any words can describe.

Both Twinkle and Chubbins gasped with amazement and delight as, at the
command of Ephel, they alighted upon a lowly branch of the golden bush
and bowed their heads before the ruler of the birds' fairyland.

"Ah, whom have we here?" asked the King, in a soft voice, as he
strutted and proudly turned himself upon his perch.

"Strangers, your Majesty," answered the Messenger. "They are sent to
you by the Guardian of the Entrance because they are gentle and
innocent, and are neither birds nor mortals, but a part of both."

"They are certainly very curious," remarked the King, staring at the
human heads upon the lark bodies. "May I ask you, little strangers, how
you happen to exist in your present form?"

Twinkle, tossing her head to throw back a straggling lock of hair that
had fallen across her eyes, began in her sweet voice to tell the story
of their enchantment, and not only the King but all the Birds of
Paradise present listened intently to her words.

When she had finished the King exclaimed:

"Indeed, my dear child-larks, you are worthy to be our guests in
fairyland. So it will please me if you will be as happy and comfortable
as possible, and enjoy your stay with us as much as you can. My people
will delight to honor and amuse you, and Ephel shall continue to guide
you wherever you go."

"Thank you," returned Twinkle, earnestly; and Chubbins added, in his
blunt way: "Much obliged."

"But, before you go," continued his Majesty, "tell me what you think of
my royal person. Am I not beautiful?"

"You are, indeed," replied Twinkle; "only—"

"Only what?" asked the King, as she hesitated.

"Only I'm sorry you are so vain, and strut around so, and want everyone
to see how beautiful you are."

"Why should I not? Is not vanity one of the great virtues?" asked the
King, in a surprised voice.

"My mama says people ought not to think themselves nice, or pretty,"
said the child. "With us, to be vain is a fault, and we are taught to
be modest and unassuming."

"How remarkable!" exclaimed the King. "And how very thoughtless your
mother must be. Here we think that if God creates us beautiful it is a
sin not to glory in His work, and make everyone acknowledge the kindly
skill of the Supreme Maker's hand. Should I try to make others think,
or should I myself think, that I am not most gracefully formed and most
gorgeously clothed, I would be guilty of the sin of not appreciating
the favor of God, and deserve to be punished."

Twinkle was amazed, but could find no words to contradict this
astonishing idea.