Wood Magic: A Fable
Before Bevis could ask any questions, the squirrel went off to speak to
the rook, and to show him a good bough to perch on near the owl's
castle. He then came back and conducted Bevis to the seat in the
ash-stole, where he was hidden by the honeysuckle, but could see well
about him. Hardly had Bevis comfortably seated himself than the
councillors began to arrive. They were all there; even the rat did not
dare stay away, lest his loyalty should be suspected, but took up his
station at the foot of the pollard-tree, and the mouse sat beside him.
The rook sat on the oak, no great way from the squirrel; Kauc, the crow,
chose a branch of ash which projected close to the pollard. So envious
was he of the crown that he could not stay far from it.
Cloctaw, the jackdaw, who had flown to the council with him, upon
arrival, left his side, and perched rather in the rear. Reynard, the
fox, and Sec, the stoat, his friend, waited the approach of the king by
some fern near the foot of the pollard. The owl every now and then
appeared at the window of his castle, sometimes to see who had arrived,
and sometimes to look for the king, who was not yet in sight. Having
glanced round, the owl retreated to his study, doubtless to prepare his
speech for this important occasion. The heaving up of the leaves and
earth, as if an underground plough was at work, showed that the mole had
not forgotten his duty; he had come to show his loyalty, and he brought
a message from the badger, who had long since been left outside the
concert of the animals and birds, humbly begging King Kapchack to accept
his homage.
It is true that neither the hare nor the rabbit were present, but that
signified nothing, for they had no influence whatever. But the pheasant,
who often stood aloof from the court, in his pride of lineage despising
Kapchack though he was king, came on this occasion, for he too, like the
squirrel, was alarmed at the progress of Choo Hoo, and dreaded a
scarcity of the berries of the earth. Tchink, the chaffinch, one of the
first to come, could not perch still, but restlessly passed round the
circle, now talking to one and now to another, and sometimes peering in
at the owl's window. But merry as he was, he turned his back upon Te-te,
the tomtit, and chief of the spies, disdaining the acquaintance of a
common informer. Te-te, not one whit abashed, sat on a willow, and
lifted his voice from time to time.
The jay came presently, and for some reason or other he was in high good
spirits, and dressed in his gayest feathers. He chaffed the owl, and
joked with Tchink; then he laughed to himself, and tried to upset the
grave old Cloctaw from his seat, and, in short, played all sorts of
pranks to the astonishment of everybody, who had hitherto seen him in
such distress for the loss of his lady-love. Everybody thought he had
lost his senses. Eric, the favourite missel-thrush (not the
conspirator), took his station very high up on the ash above Kauc, whom
he hated and suspected of treason, not hesitating even to say so aloud.
Kauc, indeed, was not now quite comfortable in his position, but kept
slyly glancing up at the missel-thrush, and would have gone elsewhere
had it not been that everybody was looking.
The wood-pigeon came to the hawthorn, some little way from the castle;
he represented, and was the chief of those pigeons who dwelt peacefully
in Kapchack's kingdom, although aliens by race. His position was
difficult in the extreme, for upon the one hand he knew full well that
Kapchack was suspicious of him lest he should go over to Choo Hoo, and
might at any moment order his destruction, and upon the other hand he
had several messages from Choo Hoo calling upon him to join his
brethren, the invaders, on pain of severe punishment. Uncertain as to
his fate, the wood-pigeon perched on the hawthorn at the skirt of the
council place, hoping from thence to get some start if obliged to flee
for his life. The dove, his friend, constant in misfortune, sat near him
to keep him in countenance.
The humble-bee, the bee, the butterfly, the cricket, the grasshopper,
the beetle, and many others arrived as the hour drew on. Last of all
came Ki Ki, lord of all the hawks, attended with his retinue, and
heralding the approach of the king. Ki Ki perched on a tree at the side
of the pollard, and his warriors ranged themselves around him: a
terrible show, at which the mouse verily shrank into the ground.
Immediately afterwards a noise of wings and talking announced the
arrival of Kapchack, who came in full state, with eight of his finest
guards. The king perched on the top of the pollard, just over the owl's
window, and the eight magpies sat above and around, but always behind
him.
"What an ugly old fellow he is!" whispered Bevis, who had never before
seen him. "Look at his ragged tail!"
"Hush!" said the squirrel, "Te-te is too near."
"Are they all here?" asked the king, after he had looked round and
received the bows and lowly obeisance of his subjects.
"They are all here," said the owl, sitting in his porch. "They are all
here--at least, I think; no, they are not, your majesty."
"Who is absent?" said Kapchack, frowning, and all the assembly cowered.
"It is the weasel," said the owl. "The weasel is not here."
Kapchack frowned and looked as black as thunder, and a dead silence fell
upon the council.
"If it please your majesty," said the humble-bee, presently coming to
the front. "If it please your majesty, the weasel----"
"It does _not_ please me," said Kapchack.
But the humble-bee began again: "If it please your majesty----"
"His majesty is _not_ pleased," repeated the owl, severely.
But the humble-bee, who could sing but one tune, began again: "If it
please your majesty, the weasel asked me to say----"
"What?" said the king, in a terrible rage. "What did he say?"
"If it please your majesty," said the humble-bee, who must begin over
again every time he was interrupted, "the weasel asked me to say that he
sent his humble, his most humble, loyal, and devoted obedience, and
begged that you would forgive his absence from the council, as he has
just met with a severe accident in the hunting-field, and cannot put one
paw before the other."
"I do not believe it," said King Kapchack. "Where is he?"
"If it please your majesty," said the humble-bee, "he is lying on a bank
beyond the copse, stretched out in the sunshine, licking his paw, and
hoping that rest and sunshine will cure him."
"Oh, what a story!" said Bevis.
"Hush," said the squirrel.
"Somebody said it was a story," said the owl.
"So it is," said Te-te. "I have made it my business to search out the
goings-on of the weasel, who has kept himself in the background of late,
suspecting that he was up to no good, and with the aid of my lieutenant,
the tree-climber, I have succeeded in discovering his retreat, which he
has concealed even from your majesty."
"Where is it?" said Kapchack.
"It is in the elm, just there," said Te-te, "just by those raspberries."
"The rascal," said the owl, in a great fright. "Then he has been close
by all the time listening."
"Yes, he has been listening," said Te-te, meaningly.
The owl became pale, remembering the secret meeting of the birds, and
what was said there, all of which the treacherous weasel must have
overheard. He passed it off by exclaiming: "This is really intolerable".
"It _is_ intolerable," said Kapchack; "and you," addressing the
humble-bee, "wretch that you are to bring me a false message----"
"If it please your majesty," began the humble-bee, but he was seized
upon by the bee (who was always jealous of him), and the butterfly, and
the beetle, and hustled away from the precinct of the council.
"Bring the weasel here, this instant," shouted Kapchack. "Drag him here
by the ears."
Everybody stood up, but everybody hesitated, for though they all hated
the weasel they all feared him. Ki Ki, the hawk, bold as he was, could
not do much in the bushes, nor enter a hole; Kauc, the crow, was in the
like fix, and he intended if he was called upon to take refuge in the
pretence of his age; the stoat, fierce as he was, shrank from facing the
weasel, being afraid of his relation's tricks and stratagems. Even the
fox, though he was the biggest of all, hesitated, for he recollected
once when Pan, the spaniel, snapped at the weasel, the weasel made his
teeth meet in Pan's nostrils.
Thus they all hesitated, when the rat suddenly stood out and said: "I
will fetch the weasel, your majesty; I will bring that hateful traitor
to your feet".
"Do so, good and loyal rat," said the king, well pleased. And the rat
ran off to compel the weasel to come.
As the elm was so close, they all looked that way, expecting to hear
sounds of fighting; but in less than half-a-minute the rat appeared,
with the weasel limping on three legs in his rear. For when the weasel
heard what the rat said, he knew it was of no use to stay away any
longer; but in his heart he vowed that he would, sooner or later, make
the rat smart for his officious interference.
When he came near, the weasel fell down and bowed himself before the
king, who said nothing, but eyed him scornfully.
"I am guilty," said the weasel, in a very humble voice; "I am guilty of
disobedience to your majesty's commands, and I am guilty of sending you
a deceitful message, for which my poor friend the humble-bee has been
cruelly hustled from your presence; but I am not guilty of the treason
of which I am accused. I hid in the elm, your majesty, because I went in
terror of my life, and I feigned to be ill, in order to stay away from
the council, because there is not one of all these (he pointed to the
circle of councillors) who has not sworn to destroy me, and I feared to
venture forth. They have all banded together to compass my destruction,
because I alone of all of them have remained faithful to your throne,
and have not secretly conspired."
At these words, there was such an outcry on the part of all the birds
and animals, that the wood echoed with their cries; for the stoat
snapped his teeth, and the fox snarled, and the jay screamed, and the
hawk napped his wings, and the crow said "Caw!" and the rook "Haw!" and
all so eagerly denied the imputation, that it was some minutes before
even King Kapchack could make himself heard.
When the noise in some degree subsided, however, he said: "Weasel, you
are so false of tongue, and you have so many shifts and contrivances
('That he has!' said Bevis, who was delighted at the downfall of the
weasel), that it is no longer possible for any of us to believe anything
you say. We have now such important business before us, that we cannot
stop to proceed to your trial and execution, and we therefore order that
in the meantime you remain where you are, and that you maintain complete
silence--for you are degraded from your rank--until such time as we can
attend to your contemptible body, which will shortly dangle from a tree,
as a warning to traitors for all time to come. My lords, we will now
proceed with our business, and, first of all, the secretary will read
the roll-call of our forces."
The owl then read the list of the army, and said: "First, your majesty's
devoted body-guard, with--with Prince Tchack-tchack (the king frowned,
and the jay laughed outright) at their head; Ki Ki, lord of hawks, one
thousand beaks; the rooks, five thousand beaks; Kauc, the crow, two
hundred beaks;" and so on, enumerating the numbers which all the tribes
could bring to battle.
In the buzz of conversation that arose while the owl was reading (as it
usually does), the squirrel told Bevis that he believed the crow had not
returned the number of his warriors correctly, but that there were