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 p.r.i.c.ked 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 p.r.o.ne 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 gla.s.s! 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. n.o.ble 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.