XVIII: LITTLE BEAR: AN OJIBWAY LEGEND
Once upon a time there was an old Indian couple who had three daughters, but no son. The two older girls were very beautiful; but the youngest was plain and unlovely. Yet she was the wisest of the three. Her name was Little Bear.
Now, there came a time when the father and mother grew too old to work as they had done all their lives. It became necessary that the two older daughters, who were strapping big girls, should go away to find work in order to take care of the family.
"Take me with you," begged Little Bear.
But the older sisters shook their heads.
"No," they answered; "you would be of no use to us. You are too little. You must stay at home."
The two sisters started upon their journey alone. But they had not gone far when they heard the patter of feet behind them. They looked around, and there was Little Bear running after them as fast as she could go. The sisters were very angry. They took Little Bear and tied her to the posts of the wigwam, so that she should not follow them again. Then once more they started upon their journey.
They had traveled but a short distance when again they heard a noise behind them. And there was Little Bear running toward them with the poles of the wigwam upon her back.
The sisters were astonished and very angry indeed. They undid Little Bear from the posts and tied her instead to a huge pine tree which grew close by. And they said: "Now will you stay where we leave you, bad Little Bear?"
Once more they went upon their way. But a third time they had not gone far when they heard a great noise behind them. Bumpety-bump! Bumpety-bump! Along came Little Bear with the pine tree upon her shoulders!
The sisters were now very, very angry. They untied Little Bear crossly, with many jerks, and fastened her to a great rock on the side of the hill. And they said: "Now we shall see whether you are anchored or not, you obstinate Little Bear!" So they went upon their way.
Presently they came to a wide river, and they had no boat in which to cross. They sat down upon the shore and moped, seeing no way to continue their journey.
But suddenly they heard a terrible noise behind them, and there once more was Little Bear, running toward them with the great rock on her back.
This time the sisters were glad enough to see her. They unfastened the rock and threw it into the middle of the river. Then they laid the pine tree upon the rock, and so they had a bridge upon which to cross. Merrily they passed over, all three. For this time Little Bear went with the other two. And they did not send her away, because she was so strong and useful. Presently, on the other side of the river, they came to a wigwam, where lived an old witch-woman with her two daughters.
"Where are you going?" asked the old woman.
"Our parents are very old," said the three girls, "and we are going to seek our fortune."
"Come in," said the old woman kindly. "Come in and have supper with us, and sleep to-night in the wigwam with my daughters."
The travelers were glad to go in, for it was growing late. They had a nice supper in the tent, and when it was night the daughters of the old woman and Little Bear's two sisters went to sleep in a huge bed. The sisters of Little Bear were on the outside, with the two others between them.
Little Bear did not go to bed. She sat up with the old woman beside the camp-fire, telling stories, until it was very late and the old woman fell sound asleep. She snored loudly; but to make sure, Little Bear reached out and pinched her gently.
When she found that it was not shamming, she crept softly to the bed where the four girls slept and changed their places. After this Little Bear's sisters were in the middle, and the old woman's daughters on the outside. When Little Bear had done this, she crept back to the fire and lay down, pretending to be asleep.
In a little while the old woman awoke and pinched Little Bear to see whether or not she was really asleep; and although it hurt dreadfully, Little Bear did not stir, or make a sound, but seemed to be dreaming fast. Then the wicked old woman sharpened her long, bright knife and stole to the bed where the girls were sleeping, and before they knew what was happening she had cut off the heads of the two girls on the outer sides of the bed. But it was her own two daughters whom the cruel creature had killed, though she did not know it, in the dark! The wicked old woman lay down to sleep, chuckling to herself. But when all was quiet, Little Bear awoke her two sisters and they all three crept away from that cruel wigwam, hurrying on their journey.
Now, in the morning when the old woman awoke and found what a dreadful thing she had done, she was annoyed. She screamed and cried and tore her hair, and then she jumped up into the sky and pulled down the sun from its place, hiding it away in her wigwam, so that Little Bear and her sisters might be lost in the dark.
In the pitchy blackness, worse than night, because there were no stars, the three stumbled on and on, groping their way; and it was very uncomfortable indeed. At any moment they might run into some terrible danger.
At last they saw the flicker of a little light, and made their way toward it. They found that it was a man carrying a torch and looking about for something.
"What are you looking for?" they asked.
"I am looking for the sun," answered the man. "The sun is lost, and we are in great trouble because of it. Tell me, have you seen the sun?"
They said "No," and asked him to lead them to his village, which he did. And when they came near they saw the twinkle of many lights. All the men of the town were looking for the sun, and there was great distress among them because their Chief was ill, and he could not get well until the sun should be put back into his place in the sky, and the days be bright again.
Little Bear asked to see the Chief, and they took her to where he lay dying.
"Great Chief," said she, "I think that I can help you."
"Can you bring back the sun, Maiden?" asked the Chief feebly. "That is the only thing that will help me."
"Yes, I can do so if you will give me two handsful of maple sugar and your oldest son," said Little Bear.
The Chief agreed. Little Bear took the maple sugar and went back to the wigwam of the wicked old woman. She climbed up on the outside and threw the sugar down through the chimney-hole into the kettle of rice which the old crone was cooking. Presently the hag tasted it and made a wry face.
"Bah!" she cried; "it is too sweet. I must go and get some more water to put in the kettle."
As soon as the old woman left the wigwam to get the water, Little Bear jumped down from the tent-roof, ran inside, and found the sun where the witch had hidden it away. Up she tossed it into the sky; and lo! the world was bright and beautiful once more.
Then she returned to the village, where the old Chief received her gratefully. As he had promised, he bestowed upon her his oldest son. But Little Bear did not want him. So she gave the young Chief to her eldest sister for a husband; and they were very happy.
Now, when the old woman saw the sun shining once more in his usual place, she was very angry. She screamed and she cried and she tore her hair. Once more she jumped up into the sky, and this time she tore down the moon, hiding it away in her wigwam, just as she had hidden the sun.
Then again the good old Chief fell sick, because now the nights were pitch dark; and he asked Little Bear if she could help him.
Little Bear said: "Yes, I will bring back the moon, if you will give me two handsful of salt and your next oldest son."
The Chief agreed. Little Bear took the salt and went again to the old woman's wigwam, doing as she had done before. She tossed the salt into the kettle of soup, and when the old woman tasted it she made a face and said: "Ugh! This soup is too salt. I must get some more water to put in the kettle."
As soon as the old woman was out of the way, Little Bear ran in and seized the moon, which was hidden in a corner. She tossed it up into the night sky, where it hung like a lovely lantern, and every one grew happy again.
Immediately the old Chief became well, and was glad enough to keep his promise and to give Little Bear his second son. But she did not want him for herself. She married the young man to her younger sister; and they were very happy.
This time the old woman was very angry indeed. She came by night to the village and stole the Chief's beautiful horse, all covered with little tinkly bells. At this misfortune the old Chief fell ill once more; for he was very sensitive.
Once more Little Bear offered to help him if he would give her two handsful of maple sugar and two handsful of salt, and his youngest, handsomest son. Of course, the old Chief agreed.
A third time Little Bear went to the old woman's wigwam and found her making soup. She did just as she had done twice before; only this time the sugar and the salt together made a horrid mess! When the old woman went out to get more water for a quite new soup, Little Bear slipped into the tent and found the horse. As a precaution she first took off his little bells, so that he should not make a noise to bring back the hag. She removed all the little bells but one, and that one she missed, it being hidden under a lock of his mane.
Gently she led the horse away. But alas! The one little bell which she had overlooked began to tinkle as they fled. Tink! Tink! Tink! Through the wood the old woman heard it and pricked up her ears. Hop, hop, hop! Along she came, hobbling after them faster than any horse could gallop, and she caught Little Bear before she could escape.
"Now I will be even with you for all that you have done!" cried the old woman.
She put Little Bear into a great bag and tied the bag to the limb of a tree. Then she went away to get a big stick with which to beat her victim to death.
But Little Bear did not wait for this to happen. While the old woman was looking for the stick, Little Bear bit a hole in the bag and crept out. She took the good horse, this time without any bells to give the alarm, and hid him in the bushes ready for flight. Then she put into the bag all the old woman's choicest things--her dishes and food, and the breakable furnishings of her wigwam--until the bag was round and bulgy as if Little Bear herself were inside.
Chuckling to herself, Little Bear hid in the bushes where she could see what happened upon the old woman's return; and merry enough the sight was! Little Bear nearly died of laughing, and had to stuff a corner of her blanket into her mouth lest she should betray herself.
For the old woman came hurrying up with her huge club, and began to beat the bag fiercely. Crack! Smash! went the pots and pans. Smash! Crack! went the dishes and the other things. But the wicked old woman went on beating harder than ever, thinking that she was breaking the bones of poor Little Bear.
Presently Little Bear grew tired of the smashing and crashing, and thought it was time to be off. She mounted the Chief's good horse and galloped swiftly away to the village, where her sisters were awaiting her anxiously, because she had been gone a long time.
When the Chief saw his good horse once more, he was greatly delighted and grew well immediately; he was so sensitive. As he had promised, he gave to Little Bear his youngest son, who was the handsomest of the three, though not wise. Little Bear loved him dearly; so she married him herself and they went to live in a fine wigwam which the Chief gave them, near the other two brothers and sisters.
But the Little Bear's husband did not love her. He was sulky and said: "I wish my wife were beautiful like the other maidens! Why must I marry an ugly Little Bear? I wish I might have had one of her pretty sisters instead!" And he was cruel to Little Bear and made her weep.
But after a while she dried her tears, and was angry to think how foolish she had been in choosing this youngest son for herself, just because he was so handsome. She thought about it for a long time.
One day she said to her husband: "You do not love me, because I am an ugly Little Bear. Take me and throw me into the fire."
"I do not love you," said her husband, "but I cannot kill you, for then the Chief would punish me."
"Do as I tell you!" said Little Bear, and she stamped her foot.
The young man was afraid, for he knew that Little Bear was very wise and powerful. So he did as she bade him, and threw Little Bear into the fire. This made a great noise in the wigwam, and presently up came running Little Bear's two sisters.
"Wicked man! What have you done to our dear Little Bear?" they cried.
"I have done only as she told me," said the young man sulkily. "Little Bear is not beautiful, but she is wise. So I did what she told me to do. I threw her into the fire."
"Oh, wicked man!" cried the sisters again, bursting into tears.
Just then they heard a strange sound in the fire, and turning, they beheld a most beautiful maiden with dark eyes and raven locks coming out of the flames. She smiled at the two sisters, and turning to the young man said:--
"Husband, do you know me? I am Little Bear, who was wise but not beautiful. Now I have become beautiful, but I am still wiser than before."
"O my wife!" cried the husband eagerly. "I do not care whether you are wise or not--that matters little to me. But I love you with all my heart, you are so beautiful!"
Little Bear laughed and said: "You were unkind to the ugly Little Bear, though she loved you. You are like most men; you care more for beauty than for wisdom. But I have grown wiser than I was when I married you and I do not care what you think."
And Little Bear, now the most beautiful young woman in the village and the pride of the tribe for wisdom, lived happy ever after.
XIX: THE RED KING'S VISIT
"That is a fine story!" cried Harold, clapping his hands after the Red King had finished telling the tale of the Little Bear. "I wish I could remember all the tales that I read, and tell them as well as you do, Your Majesty!"
Red Rex looked pleased. "It is a tale that, when I am not at war, I tell often to my little daughter," he said. "She likes all kinds of stories, but especially those of countries different from our own."
"Then she ought to hear the Tales of Kisington!" cried Harold.
"So I think," mused Red Rex. "I would that you could read them to her, even as you have read them to me, Harold."
"Perhaps some day that may be," answered Harold. "But meantime Your Majesty may hear our tales and tell them to your little Princess when you return. She will like your way of telling them better than reading from a book, I know."
"Yes, I must read those tales again, at your library," said the Red King. "I must study them well, so that I can tell them without losing the point of each, as I am prone to do. My little Hope will be glad. Heretofore, I have never had time enough to read her as much as she craved."
"The library will welcome you," said Harold. "I can answer for that. It would rather have you inside its doors reading than outside battering down the statues and the glass! Will Your Majesty come with me now and visit the Town of Kisington under the flag of truce?"
"That will I," answered Red Rex.
Forth then went Harold and the Red King to the gates of Kisington. Side by side they went, with the flag of truce between them, borne by a big man-at-arms. After them followed a guard of the Red King's men; but these remained behind when the great gate swung open to admit Harold and his royal guest.
There were no soldiers to be seen anywhere in the streets of Kisington. It seemed a town wholly at peace. The Lord Mayor and the Librarian were waiting to receive them, and crowds of people thronged the street to catch a glimpse of the War-Lord, who for nearly a week had been besieging their city without firing a shot since that first day. Harold recognized among the crowd the faces of many of his school-mates, and presently, when he found the opportunity he beckoned to his chums, Robert and Richard, who were in the front ranks.
"Keep close to me," Harold whispered to them. "By and by I dare say you will have a chance to speak with Red Rex himself."
Robert and Richard needed no second hint to keep close at Harold's heels. Proudly they stepped along, one on either side of their friend, behind the Red King and the Lord Mayor who followed the Librarian and the bearer of the flag of truce. To the marketplace they went, the other school children trotting along in the rear of the little procession, and gazing with almost as much pride and awe at their lucky comrades as at the dreaded enemy, Red Rex. Indeed, the whole Town of Kisington seemed moving in the wake of these six most important personages.
What conversation took place between Red Rex and the Lord Mayor was never recorded. But it seemed to grow gradually pleasanter and pleasanter. By the time they had reached the steps of the library, their faces were wreathed in smiles and they beamed at each other like old friends.
At the door of the library the Librarian turned and, with a wave of his hand, said to Red Rex,--"Welcome, Your Majesty, to the treasure-house of Kisington."
"Glad am I to enter these doors," replied the Red King courteously. "For here, I believe, live the wonderful books which during these past days have been giving me much pleasure." He laid his hand on the shoulder of Harold and smiled. One would hardly have recognized the face of the grim War-Lord who had begun the siege so savagely. "I would fain see those friendly books in their own home," he went on.
"That you shall do, Your Majesty," said the Librarian; "for Kisington is so proud of her treasures that she is ever glad to welcome a stranger to the enjoyment of them. Is it not fortunate, Your Majesty, that the library is still standing to entertain you? Recently it was in great danger of being destroyed, as you may have heard." (The Librarian was an exceedingly polite gentlemen.)
At these words the Red King turned redder and bowed gravely. "The Books themselves rose up for the protection of books," he said. "They have proved in this case to be the best weapons of defense. I am beginning to think that they are better than any soldiers."
By this time they had entered the main hall, where a delegation of Leading Citizens awaited them,--in holiday robes and with expectant faces. They greeted Red Rex with profound bows, which he acknowledged graciously.
The Librarian then turned to the rows of patient, peaceful books which lined the walls, ready to be made useful. "Yes, Your Majesty. These are our bulwarks and batteries and bayonets," he said simply.
The air of the room was still and quiet, full of peace and kindliness. Beautiful pictures looked down from the walls. Noble statues stood in the niches. Soft lights came in at the windows and fell on the tables and desks, and on rows upon rows of fair volumes, well-dusted and cheerful. The shattered windows had been screened; the broken marbles removed; so that there was nothing to reproach Red Rex or to speak of discord.
The War-Lord looked up and down and around and along, and spoke no word. All the books seemed listening, waiting for him to speak. They were indeed like soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, standing at "attention."
"It is a noble army!" exclaimed Red Rex at last, and his voice was low and gentle. "It is the best kind of army for the world, I see, as I have never seen before. I would it were mine!"
"It is yours, Your Majesty," said the Librarian. "You have but to make free use of it. These soldiers are free-lances, at the service not of one master, but of any one who employs them intelligently. Read them, Your Majesty, and so make them yours, if you will." The Librarian spread out his hands in a generous gesture.
"By my Hope, you are hospitable and magnanimous!" cried Red Rex. "I am tempted to take you at your word. Come, let there be no more war between us. Let us make no brief truce, but agree, instead, upon a true, lasting peace. Already I have promised this Harold of yours to spare the city, east, west, and north,--which is the whole of it. But come; promise me now to spare me the scorn and hatred which you owe for my unfriendliness. Let us spare each other and be friends. For I would know more of your books and of your people."
"Good, Your Majesty!" cried the Lord Mayor, stepping forward. "By all means let there be peace. We have no wish for anything else. Our hastily gathered soldiers are eager to return again to private life. Send away your army, and let peace be proclaimed with no more formality than our true words given each to other in this library, with the witness of the books."
"Done!" shouted Red Rex. "Here is my hand on it!" And he shook hands first with the Lord Mayor, then with the Librarian, then with the other Leading Citizens. Harold and his chums were standing modestly a little way apart. He called the boy to his side and laid an arm affectionately about his shoulder. "Here is your true peacemaker," said Red Rex. "If Harold had not been so good a reader, I should never have been here in peace with you at this moment. To Harold and his books I owe the vision of what a library really is."
"Your Majesty," said Harold promptly, "will you also shake hands with Richard and Robert? It will make them very proud."
"That will I!" cried Red Rex. And he not only shook hands, but clapped the boys on the shoulder, calling each by name; which was a thing for them to remember all their lives.
"Now!" announced the Red King, taking a large seal ring from his finger and handing it to his soldier who bore the flag of truce. "Take this ring, and go back to my army; bid the generals lead their men home, and busy themselves in some useful work until my return. For as for me, I shall remain for a space in this peaceful city, in this peaceful Kingdom, to learn something further of its ways and wonders, which interest me hugely."
The soldier saluted and retired. And shortly after was heard beyond the walls the tramp, tramp of a retreating army. The Red King was alone in Kisington, among the books.
Little cared he for what went on outside. He was carried away by the fascination of a world new to him. The Librarian led him from room to room, from stack to stack, from shelf to shelf of tempting books. The Red King was fairly bewildered by the opportunities offered. He wanted to read all the volumes at once.
"I never dreamed there were so many books in the world!" he cried. "How can a man live long enough to read them all, if he does nothing else all his days?"
"Do you wonder we have no time for war, Your Majesty?" asked the Librarian.
"No more war for me!" declared Red Rex. They had reached a division of the books labeled in huge letters OUTLAND TALES. The Red King laid his hand upon a volume bound in green-and-silver, like ice. "This has a tempting look," said Red Rex. "Are these also Chronicles of Kisington?"
"Yes, in a sense," answered the Librarian. "The deeds here recorded happened not in our Kingdom; yet, being tales gathered by our forbears in their travels around the world, to and from Kisington, they had a part in our history. They helped our fathers the better to understand and sympathize with the stranger, and so made for the peace which they loved."
"This is a story for me," declared Red Rex, who had been peeping into the ice-bound volume. "I would fain hear another tale interpreted by my little friend. Harold, will you read me this story, as you have read so many ere now? I long to hear your pleasant voice again."
"I will read whatever Your Majesty wishes," replied Harold. "Shall we go into this alcove where we shall be quite undisturbed and undisturbing?"
"By all means," said Red Rex. And here, in a cozy comer under one of the great windows, with Richard and Robert on either side of him, Harold read to the delighted King the Icelandic tale of The Bear's Daughter.
XX: THE BEAR'S DAUGHTER
Once upon a time, on an island far to the north of Kisington, whither only the bravest sailors dared to venture, lived a boy named Hans. They called him Hans the Hunter, because he loved so much to hunt and fish. He was a tall, brave, and sturdy lad, and he loved his life and was proud of his nickname. He had a hard spot in his heart, or he would not have been a hunter.
One day Hans went out with two other lads to hunt. It was in the early spring, the season when the ice breaks up in the rivers and begins to move seaward, like the hearts of men. The three wandered for many miles over the ice and snow until they came to the frozen bed of a river; but they did not know it was a river, the water of it flowed so far below the cakes of ice which concealed it, while over all was a thick crust of snow.
At this spot Hans the Hunter, who was after big game, left the others and started toward the south. Presently in the snow his sharp eyes spied the tracks of a huge bear. He was greatly delighted, and began to follow the slot so eagerly that he hardly marked where he was going. But all on a sudden he felt an unsteady motion under his feet. The ground seemed slipping beneath him. The snow parted and the ice cracked, and he spied blue water in the gaps between. Then he realized that he was upon a river, afloat upon a cake of ice!
Hans was greatly terrified, and made haste to leap upon a larger floe, for the former was too small to hold his weight, and threatened to turn upside down. Still he was in great danger; for before he knew it the river had carried him out into a bay of floating ice, far from the steady land. To and fro he leaped on his long legs, over the moving mass, hoping to find a way of escaping back to the shore. But presently he saw to his horror that he was rapidly floating out to the ocean upon a huge ice-floe, which was fast separating from the others. He was adrift upon a barren island of ice!
Scarcely had he had time to realize this, when Hans had another shock. As he came around a huge pillar of ice, he almost stumbled upon a huge white bear lying asleep upon her side. It must have been the very same bear whose tracks had led Hans into danger, and which he had quite forgotten. With a hunter's instinct Hans raised his gun to shoot her. But at the moment, before he pulled the trigger, the bear opened her eyes and spoke to him; and it did not seem so very strange to hear her speak his own language.
"Why do you seek to kill me?" she said piteously. "I have done no harm to you, Hans the Hunter. Moreover, if you kill me you will yourself die of cold within a few hours. If you lie down upon the ice to sleep you will freeze to death. But if you rest against my thick fur I will keep you warm. O man! Why must we be enemies? We are bound on a dangerous sea voyage together. Be my friend! Catch fish for me, so that we shall not starve. So, helping one another, we shall live comfortably on this floating home until we are able to go ashore."
"Gladly will I do what you say," agreed Hans the Hunter, for he saw that her words were wise.
After that Hans and the bear became partners. By day, with the tackle which he always carried in his wallet, Hans fished for their dinner; and, indeed, the bear's huge appetite kept him busy! By night he snuggled against the warm fur of his neighbor and slept soundly, not feeling the cold. So they kept their bargain.
Many days went by, and the bear came to love Hans dearly. Indeed, he liked her, too. But Hans loved himself better, for he was a selfish lad.
One morning Hans awoke with a start, conscious of an unusual movement near him. The bear was stirring uneasily in her sleep. But something else close beside him writhed and wriggled. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Nestled against the bear's white fur was a tiny newborn child, a beautiful baby girl. Hans sat up and stared at the prodigy. What did it mean? Where did the baby come from? At last an idea came to him.
"Oho!" he said to himself. "Now I know what it all means! This is the Enchanted Bear of whom I have heard so much,--the great White Bear of the North. That is why she could talk to me, and why I could understand. That is why her newborn cub is a human child, until she looks at it. Mistress Bear has not yet seen her little one. Ho! What a prize for a hunter to take home! This enchanted bear-baby will remain human, if I can steal her away where her mother will never set eyes on her. That will be something to show the other fellows, I should say!"
On the preceding night Hans had noted that the ice-floe was approaching nearer to the land. This morning they were very close to shore. Many ice-cakes floated about, and by jumping from one to another long-legged Hans knew that he could make the land. Very gently he took the little white baby, so soft and warm, in his great hands and wrapped it under his coat, so that the old bear should not see it. Then silently and stealthily he prepared to depart. But when he moved away from her side the old bear wakened suddenly and called after him,--
"Where are you going, friend Hans? What are you doing with my little cub that I have never seen?" Hans did not stop to explain, but clasping the baby tightly, darted off over the ice-field toward the land. Surprised and fearful, the old bear rose and looked after him with wide eyes of reproach. Then when she realized what he meant to do, she shook herself with a mighty roar, and her eyes grew bright and fierce. She started in pursuit.
It was a terrible chase! Hans was swift-footed; but after all the ice was not his natural ground. The bear who had seemed so clumsy traveled over the ice with miraculous speed, as polar bears do. Hans heard her panting behind him, drawing nearer and nearer, and his heart sank low. He knew how sharp her claws were, and how strong her teeth. She was gaining upon him; but he would not give up the baby. The hard spot in his heart grew harder. Burdened as he was, he turned about and raising his gun fired it at the bear. His aim was good,--for was he not Hans the Hunter? With a moan the great bear fell, and he saw a stream of blood dye the ice-floe which he had so long shared with her as a home.
Hans did not pause to mourn over the faithful friend who had kept him alive and warm for so many nights; but leaving her on the ice to die, sped shoreward with his burden, jumping lightly from cake to cake of ice until he reached the land.
After wandering about for some time Hans found a deserted fisherman's hut, where he built a fire and cherished the baby which he had stolen. The little thing seemed to thrive under his clumsy care. He tarried in the hut for some days, managing to get food for the baby and himself. Then he took the child and made his way inland until he came to a little village. He found that it was miles and miles from his former home; but the people were kind and urged him to stay. So Hans decided to settle down and live here, practicing his trade as a hunter, and earning enough to keep himself and the child in comfort. And every day the stolen baby grew dearer and dearer to Hans the Hunter.
Years went by. Hans became a big man, the mightiest, most famous hunter in all the countryside. Presently the little girl was grown up, too. And she had become the most beautiful tiny maiden in the land. Her name was Ursula, which means "Little Bear-Girl," though no one knew why Hans had given her this name. Folk supposed that she was called after the holy Saint Ursula. Hans, as you may guess, never told the lass about her bear-mother whom he had so cruelly wronged.
Hans loved Ursula so dearly that he hoped some day she would become his little wife. For a long time Ursula laughed and put him off; but at last she consented.
One fine day they drove to Church and were married. After the wedding all the village folk crowded around the sleigh in which Hans was to carry his young bride home, and wished the couple joy and good luck. For everybody liked big Hans, who was cruel only to animals; and they adored his little Ursula, who was cruel to nobody. She looked very pretty as she sat beside Hans, all pink and white and smiling, wrapped from head to foot in snowy furs which Hans had given her for a wedding present. Merrily they waved good-bye to the crowd as they drove away. And every one said, "Was there ever seen a handsomer, finer couple?"
It was a gay, long ride home through the forest, and the pair were very happy. The sun shone dazzlingly on the jeweled snow, and the evergreens sparkled with icicles. The little brook, hidden under the ice, peeped at them through sundry chinks here and there, chuckling merrily as he ran. The sleigh-bells jingled heartily and the horse pranced as if he, too, shared the joy of that happy wedding day.
Suddenly, as they came out into an open space, the horse stopped short with a frightened snort, and stood gazing with wild eyes, trembling in every limb. Something huge and terrible blocked the road. In the middle of the way stood a great white bear, upright upon her hind legs.
Hans recognized her at once; it was his old friend whom he had betrayed! After all, she was not dead, as he had hoped, but after twenty years had come back to confront him. She was staring fixedly at Hans,--she had not yet seen little Ursula muffled in her furs. With a cry Hans threw himself between his young bride and this terrible sight.
"Come to me, my Daughter, my Cub!" cried the mother-bear in a deep voice. "Come to me!"
Ursula gave a strange, wild cry and struggled in the arms of Hans. "What is it?" she said. "Oh, what is it? I must see!"
At the same moment her voice died away into a low whine, then rose into a howl such as an animal gives in pain. Struggling from her husband's arms she leaped from the sleigh.
Instantly Hans followed, holding out his arms piteously and calling, "Ursula! Ursula!"
But the white, furry figure did not hear. It was hurrying forward toward the great bear.
"Come to me, my Child!" said the bear again. "Leave the wicked man who betrayed his friend and sought to kill her. Come, let us punish him!"
Her words ended in a fierce growl, which was echoed by the other white figure, as she turned about and looked at Hans. And oh, what was this! With horror he saw that his little bride had, indeed, turned into a furry white bear. Her eyes burned red and angry as she looked at him, and she showed her teeth as if her mother's words had turned all her love of Hans into hatred, for the old bear's sake.
She seemed about to spring upon Hans and tear him to pieces. But suddenly her look changed. She folded her paws upon her furry breast, and Hans saw tears, human tears, come into the little bear's eyes. It was the last token of her human life, the last gleam of her fondness for him. She could not punish him as her mother bade. She would not let evil happen to him, even though he had done such a cruel wrong, because she had once been his little Ursula.
Dropping upon all fours she ran toward her mother, and they laid noses together for their first caress. She seemed to say something to the old bear in a silent language, which was answered by a deep, sullen growl. After this, without a further glance at Hans, the two bears turned about and trotted away together into the forest. Hans the Hunter never saw them again.
But after that the gun of Hans hung rusty on the wall of his lonely hut. The hard spot in his heart had melted.
XXI: RED REX AND KING VICTOR
Hardly had Harold finished speaking these last words in the tragic story of the Bear's Daughter, when there arose from the market-place such a hubbub and commotion that the Red King's comments on the tale were quite lost. Voices were shouting and cheering; trumpets were blowing and drums beating; over the clang of weapons and neighing of horses one caught the tramp, tramp of marching feet.
Red Rex sprang to his feet, drawing his sword and growing very red in the face. Once again he was the fierce and terrible War-Lord. But Harold did not notice. He was too much excited at the tumult going on outside. He ran hastily to the window and looked out. The square was full of soldiers and banners and gayly decked horses. Men-at-arms crowded the side streets, pouring continuously into the square. The ruined porch of the library was crowded. A guard stood at the portal.
In the center of the square, bestriding a white horse, sat a stately figure, dressed all in white armor. His snowy head was uncovered and he spoke to the cheering people smilingly.
A great shout arose as he finished his speech. "Long live our good King Victor!"
Harold joined in the shout. "Hurrah! Hurrah!"
And Robert and Richard, scrambling up beside him, echoed the cheer,--"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live King Victor!"
"Our good King has come to Kisington at last!" cried Harold, turning back into the library.
He had quite forgotten his warlike guest and why King Victor had come to Kisington. Indeed, for the moment every one seemed to have forgotten Red Rex. The Librarian, the Lord Mayor, and the other Leading Citizens had disappeared, and the library seemed quite empty. But in one corner of the alcove where the last story had been read, Red Rex was standing at bay. He had drawn up before him a heavy table, behind which he stood, sword in hand, one foot advanced, his red beard bristling.
"Yes, I am trapped!" snarled Red Rex. "You have caught me, boy. But you shall pay for this!"
Harold and the Red King stood staring at one another. The tramp, tramp of feet sounded on the staircase, coming nearer. Along the hall came the tread. The door of the hall opened, and a martial group crossed the threshold. Foremost came their King, King Victor himself, the splendid, white-haired peace hero. The three boys dropped each on one knee before him.
For a moment the King stood gazing about him mildly, without speaking. He was tall and stately, but his eyes were kind, even merry, and with all his dignity there was nothing to strike fear even into the heart of a child. Presently his eyes caught the figure of the trapped War-Lord, barricaded and at bay in the corner.
He stepped forward with a friendly air and held out his hand. "Welcome, Cousin!" he said in a hearty voice.
Red Rex glared at him, fairly bristling with rage. "Do not mock me!" he blustered. "I know well enough that I have been trapped and that the word of the Lord Mayor of this town, given to me, will not count now. But you shall not take me alive. I will slay the first who lays hand on me!" He waved his sword furiously. Harold had never seen him look so terrible.
"Nay, nay!" cried King Victor mildly. "You mistake, indeed, Cousin!"
But the enraged Red King would not listen, and went on with his wild accusations.
"I have been trapped by children!" he raged. "Delayed by tales! Deceived by promises! I trusted all these and disbanded my army, fool that I was! But take me if you can!" Again he flourished his sword and ground his teeth.
King Victor stood looking at the War-Lord without speaking. At last he raised his hand with a grand gesture and said with emphasis and sincerity, "You are making a great mistake, Cousin! You are not trapped. The promise of the Lord Mayor is sacred. In my land a word is as good as a treaty. You are quite free to go, if you list. But, indeed, we hope you will deign to stay, as our honored guest. It is the first time you have graced our Kingdom with your presence, Cousin. We long to be friends with you; to see lasting peace between our neighboring lands."
"You come with an army," retorted Red Rex sullenly. "You came in response to summons. You came to combat me."
"That is true," assented King Victor. "When we heard that Kisington was besieged, we gathered together our peaceful army and hastened hither in the interests of peace. But we arrive to find, instead of a bloody siege, a peaceful King enjoying this library. We hasten to add our own welcome to that of Kisington's Leading Citizens. We invite you to remain, Cousin, and enjoy not only these but other treasures of our Kingdom which it may be to your advantage to know better."
"If my army had not disbanded," blustered the War-Lord, "you would not be speaking to me so debonairly."
"Maybe not, maybe not!" agreed King Victor.
"Yet, our volunteer police force embraces every citizen of our Kingdom. We should have surrounded you without trouble or bloodshed, Cousin. We could have persuaded your army by sheer force of numbers and opinion, without doubt. But let us not think of that. Let us rather consider the pleasanter things which surround us. Shall we not be friends, Cousin? We know your Kingdom well. We have read and studied about it thoroughly in our books. We have, indeed, traveled all over it in peaceful disguise. Come, you ought to become as well acquainted with ours; then I am sure we should never misunderstand one another again. Say, Cousin Rex, shall it be?"
He advanced a step nearer the other, holding out his hand and smiling genially. His sincerity was plain.
The War-Lord dropped his sword. "I believe you!" he cried, stepping forward and grasping the proffered hand. "Cousin, Neighbor, let there be peace between our whole kingdoms; even as we promised between myself and Kisington."
"So be it!"
The two monarchs embraced in kingly fashion, and sat down in a retired alcove for a pleasant chat.
It was not long before Harold was summoned to the pair. King Victor received him kindly, and Red Rex grinned. "We have heard the tale of your service to the State and to our Royal Friend, Harold," said King Victor graciously. "We would fain give you a suitable reward, my brave Bookworm. What shall it be? Tell me your wish."
Harold flushed and stammered. "I do not wish a reward for the little I did, Sire," he said. "I had no thought of that. Indeed, it was a pleasure to read for His Majesty."
"Yea, so we believe!" smiled the King. "Yet some reward we owe for your true office. What shall it be?"
Harold hesitated, thinking. "Truly, for myself I ask nothing," he said. "Yet, perhaps, Sire, you would help my mother, my dear mother, so that she need not work so hard while I am learning to be a scholar."
"It shall be so!" cried the King. "She shall have a little maid to help her; money to pay the rent, buy food and clothes and modest pleasures. These shall she have. But for yourself, Harold? We must show you some special favor, for our own comfort."
"Well," said Harold, "one thing I scarcely dare to ask. But I should like more time to read in the library while His Majesty is here. Maybe I could serve him better if I had not to go to school these days. May the school children have a vacation of a week, Sire?"
"A fortnight!" cried King Victor, beaming. "It is the very pith of our talk, my boy. For a week the King our Cousin is fain to tarry in Kisington, and he asks no better than yourself to be his guide, philosopher, and friend. Then for a week he will be my guest, traveling with me over the Kingdom, visiting certain places whereabout you have made him curious by your stories. He asks that you may go as his page. Both these things are possible if we grant the school a fortnight's recess. It shall be done. But still, this is little reward for your wise doings, my boy. Ask something more."
"Then, Sire, I beg this," said Harold, with shining eyes. "Let Robert and Richard go with me as assistant pages. That will be a merry vacation for us all; no better boon could I ask!"
The King laughed merrily. "A boy's wish!" he said, "but it shall be granted. Now, come hither, Harold." With these words King Victor threw over the boy's shoulders a heavy gold chain with a cross hanging from it. "'Blessed are the peacemakers,'" quoted King Victor. "Wear this, Harold, a token from your grateful country. And with it goes the gift of a hundred books, which you shall choose for yourself, to be the beginning of a library of your own,--Book Wizard, as they call you!"
The bells of Kisington began to peal gayly and continuously, a triple rejoicing. The beloved King being in town was sufficient reason for festival. Therefore,--Ding dong! Peace was declared forever between the two neighboring nations. Therefore, Ding dong! Ding dong! A holiday for the school children of Kisington, Harold's friends. Therefore,--Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!
Harold went home to his mother with the glad news. And proud enough she was of her lad when she heard why all the bells were ringing, and saw his golden cross.