Wood Magic: A Fable
Crown, and were by the king handed over to his faithful follower Sec.
The weasel (whose whereabouts could not be discovered) was also
proclaimed an outlaw, whom any one might slay without fear of trial. It
was then announced that all others who absented themselves from the
court, and were not present when the treaty was signed, would be treated
as traitors, and receive the same punishment as the weasel.
Immediately he heard this, Yiwy, son and heir of Ki Ki, the hawk, who
had fled, came and paid homage to the fox, first to save the estates
from confiscation, and secondly that he might enjoy them in his father's
place. Ki Ki was accordingly declared an outlaw. Directly afterwards,
Kauc, the crow, crept in, much crestfallen, and craved pardon, hoping to
save his property. The assembly received him with hisses and hoots:
still the fox kept his word, and permitted him to retain his estates
upon payment of an indemnity for the cost of the troops employed against
him under Ah Kurroo, of 100,000 acorns. Kauc protested that he should be
ruined: but the crowd would not hear him, and he was obliged to submit.
Then Eric, the missel-thrush, and Prince Tchack-tchack flew up: the
prince had yielded to good advice, and resolved to smother his
resentment in order to enjoy the immense private domains of his late
parent. The protocols were now ready, and the fox had already taken the
document to sign, when there was a rush of wings, and in came six or
seven of those princes and archdukes--among them the archduke of the
peewits--to whom independence was to be restored. They loudly proclaimed
their loyalty, and begged not to be cast off: declaring that they were
quite unable to defend themselves, and should be mercilessly plundered
by the barbarian horde. The fox lifted his paw in amazement that there
should exist on the face of the earth any such poltroons as this, who
preferred to pay tribute and enjoy peace rather than endure the labour
of defending their own independence. The whole assembly cried shame upon
them, but the princes persisted, and filled the court with their
lamentations, till at a sign from the king they were hustled out of the
copse.
The treaty itself filled so many pages of parchment that no one
attempted to read it, the owl certifying that it was all correct: an
extract, however, divested of technical expressions, was handed about
the court, and was to the following effect:--
The Treaty of Windflower Copse.
1. The high contracting parties to this treaty are and shall be, on the
one side, King Reynard CI., and on the other side, Choo Hoo the emperor.
2. It is declared that Kapchack being dead honour is satisfied, and
further fighting superfluous.
3. Choo Hoo agrees to pay a war indemnity of one million nuts, two
million acorns, five million berries, and ten thousand bushels of grain,
in ten equal instalments, the first instalment the day of the full moon
next before Christmas, and the remainder at intervals of a fortnight.
4. The spring in the copse, which does not freeze in winter, is declared
free and open to all travellers, not exceeding fifty in number.
5. The copse itself is hereby declared a neutral zone, wherein all
councils, pourparlers, parliaments, commissions, markets, fairs,
meetings, courts of justice, and one and all and every such assembly for
public or private purposes, may be and shall be held, without let or
hindrance, saving only:--(_a_) Plots against His Majesty King Reynard
CI.; (_b_) plots against His Imperial Majesty Choo Hoo.
6. The unjust annexations of the late King Kapchack are hereby
repudiated, and all the provinces declared independent.
7. Lastly, peace is proclaimed for ever and a day, beginning to-morrow.
(Signed)
His Majesty King Reynard CI.
His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Choo Hoo.
B. (for Sir Bevis).
Sec, the stoat (Treasurer).
Ah Kurroo Khan (Commander-in-Chief).
Ess, the owl (Chief Secretary of State).
Cloctaw, the jackdaw (Grand Chamberlain).
Raoul, the rat (Lieutenant-Governor of the Coasts).
Phu, the starling.
Tchink, the chaffinch.
Te-te, the tomtit.
Ulu, the hare.
Eric, the missel-thrush.
Tchack-tchack, the magpie, etc., etc., etc.
Every one in fact signed it but the weasel, who was still lying sullenly
_perdu_. The B. was for Bevis; the fox, who excelled in the art of
paying delicate compliments, insisted upon Bevis signing next to the
high contracting parties. So taking the quill, Bevis printed a good big
B, a little staggering, but plain and legible. Directly this business
was concluded, Ah Kurroo withdrew his legions; Choo Hoo sallied forth
from the camp, and returning the way he had come, in about an hour was
met by his son Tu Kiu at the head of enormous reinforcements. Delighted
at the treaty, and the impunity they now enjoyed, the vast barbarian
horde, divided into foraging parties of from one hundred to a thousand,
spread over a tract of country thirty miles wide, rolled like a
devastating tidal wave in resistless course southwards, driving the
independent princes before them, plundering, ravaging, and destroying,
and leaving famine behind. Part of the plunder indeed, of the provinces
recently attached to Kapchack's kingdom, and now declared independent,
furnished the first instalment of the war indemnity the barbarians had
engaged to pay.
Meantime, in the copse, preparations were made for the coronation of
the king, who had assumed, in accordance with well-known precedents,
that all his ancestors, whether acknowledged or not, had reigned, and
called himself King Reynard the Hundred and First. The procession having
been formed, and all the ceremonies completed, Bevis banged off his
cannon-stick as a salute, and the fox, taking the crown, proceeded to
put it on his head, remarking as he did so that thus they might see how
when rogues fall out honest folk come by their own.
CHAPTER XVII.
SIR BEVIS AND THE WIND.
Some two or three days after peace was concluded, it happened that one
morning the waggon was going up on the hills to bring down a load of
straw, purchased from the very old gentleman who in his anger shot King
Kapchack. When Bevis saw the horses brought out of the stable, and
learnt that they were to travel along the road that led towards the
ships (though but three miles out of the sixty), nothing would do but he
must go with them. As his papa and the bailiff were on this particular
occasion to accompany the waggon, Bevis had his own way as usual.
The road passed not far from the copse, and Bevis heard the woodpecker
say something, but he was too busy touching up the horses with the
carter's long whip to pay any heed. If he had been permitted he would
have lashed them into a sharp trot. Every now and then Bevis turned
round to give the bailiff a sly flick with the whip; the bailiff sat at
the tail and dangled his legs over behind, so that his broad back was a
capital thing to hit. By-and-by, the carter left the highway and took
the waggon along a lane where the ruts were white with chalk, and which
wound round at the foot of the downs. Then after surmounting a steep
hill, where the lane had worn a deep hollow, they found a plain with
hills all round it, and here, close to the sward, was the straw-rick
from which they were to load.
Bevis insisted upon building the load, that is putting the straw in its
place when it was thrown up; but in three minutes he said he hated it,
it was so hot and scratchy, so out he jumped. Then he ran a little way
up the green sward of the hill, and lying down rolled over and over to
the bottom. Next he wandered along the low hedge dividing the stubble
from the sward, so low that he could jump over it, but as he could not
find anything he came back, and at last so teased and worried his papa
to let him go up to the top of the hill, that he consented, on Bevis
promising in the most solemn manner that he would not go one single inch
beyond the summit, where there was an ancient earthwork. Bevis promised,
and his eyes looked so clear and truthful, and his cheek so rosy and
innocent, and his lips so red and pouting, that no one could choose but
believe him.
Away he ran thirty yards up the hill at a burst, but it soon became so
steep he had to stay and climb slowly. Five minutes afterwards he began
to find it very hard work indeed, though it looked so easy from below,
and stopped to rest. He turned round and looked down; he could see over
the waggon and the straw-rick, over the ash-trees in the hedges, over
the plain (all yellow with stubble) across to the hills on the other
side, and there, through a gap in them, it seemed as if the land
suddenly ceased, or dropped down, and beyond was a dark blue expanse
which ended in the sky where the sky came down to touch it.
By his feet was a rounded boulder-stone, brown and smooth, a hard
sarsen; this he tried to move, but it was so heavy that he could but
just stir it. But the more difficult a thing was, or the more he was
resisted, the more determined Bevis always became. He would stamp and
shout with rage, rather than let a thing alone quietly. When he did this
sometimes Pan, the spaniel, would look at him in amazement, and wonder
why he did not leave it and go on and do something else, as the world
was so big, and there were very many easy things that could be done
without any trouble. That was not Bevis's idea, however, at all; he
never quitted a thing till he had done it. And so he tugged and strained
and struggled with the stone till he got it out of its bed and on the
sloping sward.
Then he pushed and heaved at it, till it began to roll, and giving it a
final thrust with his foot, away it went, at first rumbling and rolling
slowly, and then faster and with a thumping, till presently it bounded
and leaped ten yards at a time, and at the bottom of the hill sprang
over the hedge like a hunter, and did not stop till it had gone twenty
yards out into the stubble towards the straw-rick. Bevis laughed and
shouted, though a little disappointed that it had not smashed the
waggon, or at least jumped over it. Then, waving his hat, away he went
again, now picking up a flint to fling as far down as he could, now
kicking over a white round puff ball--always up, up, till he grew hot,
and his breath came in quick deep pants.
But still as determined as ever, he pushed on, and presently stood on
the summit, on the edge of the fosse. He looked down; the waggon seemed
under his feet; the plain, the hills beyond, the blue distant valley on
one side, on the other the ridge he had mounted stretched away, and
beyond it still more ridges, till he could see no further. He went into
the fosse, and there it seemed so pleasant that he sat down, and in a
minute lay extended at full length in his favourite position, looking up
at the sky. It was much more blue than he had ever seen it before, and
it seemed only just over his head; the grasshoppers called in the grass
at his side, and he could hear a lark sing, singing far away, but on a
level with him. First he thought he would talk to the grasshopper, or
call to one of the swallows, but he had now got over the effort of
climbing, and he could not sit still.
Up he jumped, ran up the rampart, and then down again into the fosse. He
liked the trench best, and ran along it in the hollow, picking up stray
flints and throwing them as far as he could. The trench wound round the
hill, and presently when he saw a low hawthorn-bush just outside the
broad green ditch, and scrambled up to it, the waggon was gone and the
plain, for he had reached the other side of the camp. There the top of
the hill was level and broad: a beautiful place for a walk.
Bevis went a little way out upon it, and the turf was so soft, and
seemed to push up his foot so, that he must go on, and when he had got a