Kisington Town
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?"
