Wood Magic: A Fable
like to think of my overlooking him kissing pretty La Schach."
"Wretch! horrid wretch!" screamed the jay, at the mention of the
kissing, in a paroxysm of jealousy. "Pecking is too good for him!"
"Send the jackdaw or the crow," said Ki Ki.
"No, no," said Kauc and Cloctaw together. "Try the wood-pigeon."
"I go?--whoo," said the pigeon. "Impossible. Kapchack told me to my face
the other day that he more than half suspected me of plotting to go over
to Choo Hoo. I dare not say such a thing to him."
"Nor I," said the dove. "Why not the owl?"
"The fact is," said the owl, "my relations with Kapchack are of a
peculiar and delicate nature. Although I occupy the position of a
trusted counsellor, and have the honour to be chief secretary of state,
that very position forbids my taking liberties, and it is clear if I
did, and were in consequence banished from the court, that I could not
plead your cause. Now, the rat----"
"I am sure the rat will not go," said the mouse. "My friend the rat is
very particularly engaged, and could not possibly stir from home at this
juncture. There is the missel-thrush."
"Ridiculous," said the missel-thrush. "Everybody knows I had to leave my
hawthorn-tree because Prince Tchack-tchack took a fancy to it. He would
very likely accuse me to his father of high treason, for he hates me
more than poison ever since he did me that injury, and would lose no
chance of compassing my destruction. Besides which my relative--the
favourite--would effectually prevent me from obtaining an audience. Now,
there's the squirrel."
"My dear sir," said the squirrel, "it is well known I never meddle with
politics. I am most happy to see you all here, and you can have the use
of my copse at any time, and I may say further that I sympathise with
your views in a general way. But on no account could I depart from my
principles."
"His principles," muttered the crow, always a cynical fellow. "His
principles are his own beech-trees. If anybody touched them he would not
object to politics then."
"This is rather awkward," said the owl. "There seems an embarrassment on
the part of all of us, and we must own that to venture into the presence
of a despotic monarch with such unpleasant advice requires no slight
courage. Now, I propose that since the weasel has attained so high a
reputation for address, that he be called upon to deliver our message."
"Hear, hear," said the fox.
"Hear, hear," said the stoat.
"Capital," said the chaffinch. "Old Spectacles can always see a way out
of a difficulty."
"Haw!" said the rook. "I'm doubtful. Perhaps the weasel will not see it
in this light."
"Buzz," said the humble-bee, just then returning. "Gentlemen, I have
seen the weasel. His lordship was lying on a bank in the sun--he is very
ill indeed. His limbs are almost powerless; he has taken a chill from
sleeping in a damp hole. He sends his humble apology, and regrets he
cannot move. I left him licking his helpless paw. Buzz, buzz."
"Hark! hark!" said the woodpecker, bursting into the circle with such a
shout and clatter that the dove flew a little way in alarm. "Kapchack is
waking up. I have been watching all the time to let you know. And there
is no chance of Prince Tchack-tchack coming, for he told me that
Kapchack ordered him not to leave the orchard while he was asleep."
"I do not believe it," said the jay. "He is a false scoundrel, and I
daresay Kapchack never gave any such order, and never thought about it.
However, there is no help for it, we must break up this meeting, or we
shall be missed. But it is clear that something must be done."
"Something must be done," said the wood-pigeon, as he flew off.
"Something must be done," repeated the dove.
"Something must be done," said the owl, as he went down into the pollard
to sleep the rest of the day. Off went the mouse as fast as he could go,
anxious to get away from the neighbourhood of the weasel. The
missel-thrush had started directly he heard what the woodpecker said,
disgusted that there was no action, and nothing but talk. The jay went
off with the hawk, remarking as he went that he had expected better
things of the fox, whose royal ancestors had so great a reputation, and
could contrive a scheme to achieve anything, while their ignoble
descendant was so quiet, and scarce spoke a word. It seemed as if the
weasel would soon outdo him altogether. The rook flew straight away to
the flock to which he belonged, to tell them all that had been said. The
chaffinch left at the same time; the fox and the stoat went away
together; the crow and the jackdaw accompanied each other a little way.
When they had gone a short distance the crow said he wanted to say
something very particular, so they perched together on a lonely branch.
"What is it?" said Cloctaw.
"The fact is," said the crow, "my belief is--come a little nearer--my
belief is that Kapchack's reign is coming to an end. People won't put
up with this."
"Ah," said the jackdaw, "if that is the case who is to be king?"
"Well," said the crow, "let me whisper to you; come a little nearer." He
hopped towards Cloctaw. Cloctaw hopped the other way. The crow hopped
towards him again, till Cloctaw came to the end of the branch, and could
go no farther without flying, which would look odd under the
circumstances. So he kept a very sharp eye on Kauc, for the fact was
they had had many a quarrel when they were younger, and Cloctaw was not
at all sure that he should not have a beak suddenly driven through his
head.
"The truth is," said the crow, in a hoarse whisper, "there's a chance
for you and me. Can't you see the fox is very stupid, quite abject, and
without the least spirit; the stoat is very fierce, but has no mind;
everybody suspects the weasel, and will not trust him; as for the rat,
he is no favourite; the hawk is--well, the hawk is dangerous, but might
be disposed of ('You black assassin,' thought Cloctaw to himself); the
rook has not a chance, for his friends would be too jealous to let one
of their number become a king; and for the rest, they are too weak.
There's only you and me left."
"I see," said Cloctaw; "but we could not both be king."
"Why not?" said the crow; "you wear the crown and live in the palace;
you are old, and it would be nice and comfortable; you have all the
state and dignity, and I will do the work."
"It is very kind of you to propose it," said Cloctaw, as if considering.
In his heart he thought: "Oh, yes, very convenient indeed; I am to wear
the crown, and be pecked at by everybody, and _you_ to do all the
work--that is, to go about and collect the revenue, and be rich, and
have all the power, while I have all the danger".
"It is quite feasible, I am sure," said the crow; "especially if Prince
Tchack-tchack continues his undutiful course, and if Choo Hoo should
come up with his army."
"I must think about it," said Cloctaw; "we must not be too hasty."
"Oh, dear no," said the crow, delighted to have won over one important
politician to his cause so easily; "we must wait and watch events. Of
course this little conversation is quite private?"
"Perfectly private," said Cloctaw; and they parted.
The crow had an appointment, and Cloctaw flew direct to the steeple. His
nest was in the highest niche, just behind the image of St. Paul; and it
was not only the highest, but the safest from intrusion, for there was
no window near, and, on account of some projections below, even a ladder
could not be put up, so that it was quite inaccessible without
scaffolding. This niche he discovered in his hot youth, when he won
renown by his strength and courage: he chose it for his home, and
defended it against all comers. He was now old and feeble, but his
reputation as a leading politician, and his influence at the court of
King Kapchack, were too great for any to think of ousting him by force.
But the members of his family, in their extreme solicitude for his
personal safety, frequently represented to him the danger he incurred in
ascending so high. Should a wing fail him, how terrible the
consequences! more especially for the race of which he was so
distinguished an ornament. Nor was there the least reason for his
labouring to that elevation; with his reputation and influence, none
would dare to meddle with him. There were many pleasant places not so
exposed, as the gurgoyle, the leads, the angle of the roof, where he
could rest without such an effort; and upon their part they would
willingly assist him by collecting twigs for a new nest.
But Cloctaw turned a deaf ear to these kindly proposals, and could not
be made to see the advantages so benevolently suggested. He would in no
degree abate his dignity, his right, power, or position. He adhered to
St. Paul. There he had built all his days, and there he meant to stay to
the last, for having seen so much of the world, well he knew that
possession is ten points of the law, and well he understood the envy and
jealousy which dictated these friendly counsels.
At the same time, as the fox and the stoat were going through the fern,
the stoat said: "It appears to me that this is a very favourable
opportunity for ruining the weasel. Could we not make up some tale, and
tell Kapchack how the weasel asked us to a secret meeting, or
something?"
Now the fox had his own ideas, and he wanted to get rid of the stoat.
"Another time," he said, "another time, we will consider of it; but why
waste such a capital chance as you have to-day?"
"Capital chance to-day?" said the stoat; "what is it you mean?"
"Did you not see the mouse?" said the fox. "Did you not see how fat he
was? And just think, he has a long and lonely road home; and it would be
very easy to make a short cut (for he will not leave the hedges which
are round about) and get in front of, and so intercept him. I should go
myself, but I was out last night, and feel tired this afternoon."
"Oh, thank you," said the stoat; "I'll run that way directly." And off
he started, thinking to himself: "How silly the fox has got, and how
much he has fallen off from the ancient wisdom for which his ancestors
were famous. Why ever did he not hold his tongue, and I should never
have thought of the mouse, and the fox could have had him another day?"
But the fact was the fox recollected that the mouse had had a long
start, and it was very doubtful if the stoat could overtake him, and if
he did, most likely the rat would come to meet his friend, and the stoat
would get the worst of the encounter.
However ill the rat served the mouse, however much he abused his
superior strength, wreaking his temper on his weaker companion, still
the mouse clung to him all the more. On the other hand the rat, ready
enough to injure the mouse himself, would allow no one else (unless with
his permission) to touch his follower, wishing to reserve to himself a
monopoly of tyranny.
So soon as the stoat was out of sight, the fox looked round to see that
no one was near, and he said to a fly: "Fly, will you carry a message
for me?"
"I am very busy," said the fly, "very busy indeed."
So the fox went a little farther, and said to a humble-bee: "Humble-bee,
will you carry a message for me?"
"I am just going home," said the humble-bee, and buzzed along.
So the fox went a little farther, and said to a butterfly: "Beautiful
butterfly, will you carry a message for me?" But the disdainful
butterfly did not even answer.
The fox went a little farther, and met a tomtit. "Te-te," said he,
addressing the tomtit by name, "will you carry a message for me?"
"What impudence!" said Te-te. "Mind your own business, and do not speak
to gentlemen."
"I see how it is," said the fox to himself, "the fortunes of my family
are fallen, and I am disregarded. When we were rich, and had a great