Wood Magic: A Fable
once. Not able to understand what they meant while they were all
speaking together, Bevis held up his hands and begged them to stop a
minute, and then asked the squirrel to explain.
"So I will," said the squirrel, "though I ought to be hiding my stores
as fast as I can from the voracious host of barbarians, who will be here
in a minute. But what am I to do? for I cannot get anybody to help
me--everybody is thinking about himself."
"But the story--the story!" said Bevis; "tell me all about it."
"Well, since I can do nothing," said the squirrel, "I suppose I must,
though there is not a great deal to tell. You must know, then, that the
news of Kapchack's death got here in half-a-minute, for the
missel-thrush came with it, and from here it was all over the country in
less than an hour. Everybody knew it except Ah Kurroo Khan and the
victorious legions, and Choo Hoo and the flying enemy. These were so
busy, the one with slaughter, and the other with trying to escape, that
they could not listen to what the swifts at once flew to tell them, but
continued to fight and fly away till the evening, when the fragments of
Choo Hoo's army took refuge in the forest. Even then they would not
believe so extraordinary a circumstance, but regarded the account that
had reached them as one of the rumours which always fly about at such
times. Choo Hoo continued to go from tree to tree deeper and deeper into
the forest.
"Ah Kurroo Khan, calling off his legions, since nothing further could be
done, drew his victorious army back to some isolated clumps and
avenues, where they intended to make their camp for the night. But in
the course of an hour the rumours increased so much, and so many
messengers arrived with the same intelligence and additional
particulars, that Ah Kurroo Khan, dreading lest it should be true, sent
out a squadron to ascertain the facts.
"Long before it could return, an envoy arrived from the council of the
rooks themselves, with an order to Ah Kurroo Khan to retire at once,
notwithstanding the lateness of the evening, and that the sun was
sinking.
"With much disappointment (for he had hoped to continue the pursuit, and
entirely exterminate the barbarians on the morrow), and not without
forebodings as to his own fate, Ah Kurroo reluctantly communicated the
order to his troops. The wearied legions accordingly started on their
homeward journey, slowly passing over the fields which had witnessed the
conquest of the morning. The sun had already sunk when their van reached
the rooks' city, and Ah Kurroo came to the front to deliver the report
he had prepared upon his way. As he approached the trees where the
council of the rooks was sitting, in dark and ominous silence, an
official stopped him, and informed him that he had been dismissed from
the command, degraded from the rank he held, and the title of Khan taken
from him. He was to retire to a solitary tree at some distance, and
consider himself under arrest.
"Thus they punished him for daring to move without their orders (even at
the direct instance of the king), and thus was he rewarded for winning
the greatest battle known to history. The legions were immediately
disbanded, and each individual ordered to his home. Meantime, the news
had at last reached Choo Hoo, but neither he, nor the fugitive host,
could believe it, till there arrived some of the aliens who had dwelt
with us, and who assured the barbarians that it was correct. Directly
afterwards, the intelligence was confirmed by the retreat of Ah Kurroo
Khan.
"All that livelong night Choo Hoo, once more beginning to hope, flew to
and fro from tree to tree, endeavouring to animate his host afresh with
spirit for the fight; and as messengers continually came in with fresh
particulars of the confusion in Kapchack's kingdom, he began to succeed.
Early this morning, when the sun rose, the mystic syllables,
'Koos-takke,' resounded once more; the forest was alive, and echoed with
the clattering of their wings, as the army drew together and re-formed
its ranks. The barbarians, easily moved by omens, saw in the
extraordinary death of Kapchack the very hand of fate. Once more they
believed in their emperor; once more Choo Hoo advanced at their head.
"Not half-an-hour since a starling came in with the intelligence that
Choo Hoo's advanced guard had already reached his old camp. We suppose
the barbarians will halt there a little while for refreshment, and then
move down upon us in a mass. Would you believe it, instead of preparing
for defence, the whole state is rent with faction and intrigue! Yonder
the council of the rooks, wise as they are, are indeed deliberating,
having retired here for greater safety lest their discussion should be
suddenly interrupted by the enemy; but the subject of this discussion is
not how to defend the country, but what punishment they shall inflict
upon Ah Kurroo. There is a difference of opinion. Some hold that the
established penalty for his offence is to break his wings and hurl him
helpless from the top of the tallest elm. Some, more merciful, are for
banishment, that he be outlawed, and compelled to build his nest and
roost on an isolated tree, exposed to all the insults of the crows. The
older members of the council, great sticklers for tradition, maintain
that the ancient and only adequate punishment is the hanging up of the
offender by one leg to a dead and projecting branch, there to dangle and
die of starvation, a terror to all such evil-doers.
"While they thus talk of torture the enemy is in sight, and their own
army, it is more than whispered, is discontented and angry at the
reception meted out to the victorious Khan. But this, alas! is not all.
"So soon as ever Ki Ki was certain that Kapchack was really dead, he
returned, and he has gathered to himself a crew of the most terrible
ruffians you ever beheld. He has got about him all the scum of the
earth; all the blackguards, villains, vermin, cut-throat scoundrels have
rallied to his standard; as the old proverb says: 'Birds of a feather
flock together'. He has taken possession of the firs, yonder, on the
slope (which are the property of my friend the jay), and which command
my copse. He has proclaimed himself king, and seeks to obtain
confirmation of his title by terrorism. Already he has twice sent forth
his murderous banditti, who, scouring the fields, have committed fearful
havoc upon defenceless creatures. I am in dread every minute lest he
should descend upon the copse itself, for he respects no law of earth or
heaven.
"At the same time Kauc, the crow, has come forth in his true colours; he
too has proclaimed himself king. He has taken his stand in the trees by
the Long Pond--you came close by them just now--they are scarce a
quarter of a mile hence. To our astonishment, he has got at least thrice
as many retainers as he is entered to have in the roll which was read
before Kapchack. He had reckoned, it seems, upon the assistance of
Cloctaw, of St. Paul's, who has great influence among the jackdaws.
Cloctaw, however, avoided him and came hither, and Kauc vows he will
destroy him.
"I know not which is most formidable, the violent Ki Ki or the ruthless
Kauc. The latter, I feel sure, is only waiting till he sees an opening
to rush in and slaughter us. There is not a generous sentiment in his
breast; he would not spare the fledgling in the nest. Between these two,
one on either hand, we are indeed in a fearful predicament; Choo Hoo is
to be preferred to them.
"Whether Raoul, the rat, intends to strike a blow for the throne, I know
not; he is here; he bears an evil character, but for myself I like him
far better than Kauc or Ki Ki. The fox is, of course, out of the
question. But my great fear is the weasel; should he obtain the throne
which of us will be safe? By night as well as by day we shall be
decimated. His Machiavellian schemes, indeed, have thus far gone astray,
and although he could arrange for everything, he could not foresee his
own illness. Yet, though lying by now with a broken rib and other
injuries, I have not the least doubt he is weaving new webs and
preparing fresh deceptions. Thus, while the invader threatens us hourly,
the kingdom of Kapchack is torn to pieces with the dissensions of those
who should defend it."
"But why does not Prince Tchack-tchack take the throne and be king?"
said Bevis. "He is the heir; he is Kapchack's son."
"So he ought," said the squirrel; "but the truth is, people are weary of
the rule of the magpies; nor is this young and flighty prince capable of
taking up the reins of state. He is vain, and dissipated, and
uncertain--no one can depend upon him. And besides, even if they could,
have you not heard the extraordinary secret he has let out, like the
great lout he is, and of which everybody is talking?"
"No," said Bevis; "I have heard nothing--how should I? I have only just
got here. What is the secret? Tell me the secret this minute."
"To think," said the jay, "that we should have been so long deceived.
But I had my suspicions."
"I cannot say I suspected anything," said the hare; "but I remember Kauc
did make a very curious remark on one occasion; he was always looking
askew into things and places that did not concern him, so that I did
not much heed, especially as he had started slanders about me."
"Well," said the jay, "the truth is, my wife--she is, you know, the most
beautiful creature in the world, and quite turned the head of the late
monarch--told me that she all along had her ideas; and Kapchack himself
indeed told her in confidence that he was not so old as he looked, being
jealous of the youth of Tchack-tchack, who objected to having his eye
pecked out, and his feathers ruffled, as if he had any claims to be
handsome;" and the jay surveyed his own bright feathers with pride.
"You stupids!" said Bevis, "what is the use of talking in that way? I
want to know the secret."
"There is no secret," said the jay; "and I am not stupid. How can there
be a secret, when everybody knows it?"
"Hush! hush!" said the hare, trying to make peace; "do not let us
quarrel, at all events, if all the rest do."
"No," said the squirrel; "certainly not."
"Certainly not," repeated the jay.
"Well, what is it, then?" said Bevis, still frowning.
"The fact is," said the squirrel, "Tchack-tchack has babbled out the
great state secret. I myself knew a little of it previously, having
overheard the crow muttering to himself--as Ulu said, he peers into
things that do not concern him. And, if you remember, Bevis, I was in a
great fright one day when I nearly let it out myself. Now Prince
Tchack-tchack, finding that he could not get the crown, has babbled
everything in his rage, and the beautiful jay has told us many things
that prove it to be true. It now turns out that Kapchack was not
Kapchack at all."
"Not Kapchack!" said Bevis. "How could Kapchack not be Kapchack, when he
was Kapchack?"
"Kapchack could not be Kapchack," said the squirrel, "because he never
was Kapchack."
"Then who was Kapchack?" said Bevis, in amazement.
"Well, he was not who he was," said the squirrel; "and I will tell you
why it was that he was not, if you will listen, and not keep
interrupting, and asking questions. The reed once told you how stupid it
is to ask questions; you would understand everything very well, if you
did not trouble to make inquiries. The king who is just dead, and who
was called Kapchack, was not Kapchack, because the real old original
Kapchack died forty years ago."
"What?" said Bevis.
"Extraordinary!" said the jay.
"Extraordinary!" said the hare.
"But true," said the squirrel. "The real old original Kapchack, the
cleverest, cunningest, most consummate schemer who ever lived, who built