When she looked around for Chubbins she found he was gone. He had emptied his cup and carried the golden spoon to another blossom on a higher limb, where the girl discovered him eating as fast as he could dip up the food.
“Let us go to another tree,” said Ephel. “There are many excellent things to eat, and a variety of food is much more agreeable than feasting upon one kind.”
“All right,” called Chubbins, who had succeeded in emptying the second cup.
As they flew on Twinkle said to the guide:
“I should think the blossoms would all be emptied in a little while.”
“Oh, they fill up again in a few moments,” replied Ephel. “Should we go back even now, I think we would find them all ready to eat again. But here are the conona bushes. Let us taste these favorite morsels.”
The bushes on which they now rested had willow-green branches with silver balls growing thickly upon them. Ephel tapped lightly upon one of the balls with his bill and at once it opened by means of a hinge in the center, the two halves of the ball lying flat, like plates. On one side Twinkle found tiny round pellets of cake, each one just big enough to make a mouthful for a bird. On the other side was a thick substance that looked like jelly.
“The proper thing to do,” said their guide, “is to roll one of the pellets in the jelly, and then eat it.”
He showed Twinkle how to do this, and as she had brought her golden spoon with her it was easy enough. Ephel opened a ball for Chubbins and then one for himself, and the children thought this food even nicer than the first they had eaten.
“Now we will have some fruit,” declared the Messenger. He escorted his charges to an orchard where grew many strange and beautiful trees hanging full of fruits that were all unknown to the lark-children. They were of many odd shapes and all superbly colored, some gleaming like silver and gold and others being cherry-red or vivid blue or royal purple in shade. A few resembled grapes and peaches and cherries; but they had flavors not only varied and delicious but altogether different from the fruits that grow outside of the Birds’ Paradise.
Another queer thing was, that as fast as the children ate one fruit, another appeared in its place, and they hopped from branch to branch and tree to tree, trying this one and that, until Chubbins exclaimed:
“Really, Twink, I can’t eat another mouthful.”
“I’m afraid we’ve both been stuffing ourselves, Chub,” the girl replied. “But these things taste so good it is hard to stop at the right time.”
“Would you like to drink?” asked Ephel.
“If you please,” Twinkle answered.
“Then follow me,” said the guide.
He led them through lovely vistas of wonderful trees, down beautiful winding avenues that excited their admiration, and past clusters of flowering plants with leaves as big as umbrellas and as bright as a painter’s palette. The Paradise seemed to have been laid out according to one exquisite, symmetrical plan, and although the avenues or paths between the trees and plants led in every direction, the ground beneath them was everywhere thickly covered with a carpet of magnificent flowers or richly tinted ferns and grasses. This was because the birds never walked upon the ground, but always flew through the air.
Often, as they passed by, the flowers would greet them with sweet songs or choruses and the plants would play delightful music by rubbing or striking their leaves against one another, so that the children’s ears were constantly filled with harmony, while their eyes were feasted on the bewildering masses of rich color, and each breath they drew was fragrant with the delicious odors of the blossoms that abounded on every side.
“Of all the fairylands I’ve ever heard of or read about,” said Twinkle, “this certainly is the best.”
“It’s just a peach of a fairyland,” commented Chubbins, approvingly.
“Here is the nectar tree,” presently remarked the royal Messenger, and he paused to allow them to observe it.
The tree was all of silver — silver trunk and branches and leaves — and from the end of each leaf or branch dripped sparkling drops of a pink-tinted liquid. These glistened brightly as they fell through the air and lost themselves in a bed of silver moss that covered all the ground beneath the tree.
Ephel flew to a branch and held his mouth open so that a drop from above fell into it. Twinkle and Chubbins followed his example, and found the pink liquid very delightful to drink. It seemed to quench their thirst and refresh them at the same time, and when they flew from the queer dripping tree they were as light-hearted and gay as any two children so highly favored could possibly have felt.
“Haven’t you any water in your paradise?” asked the little girl-lark.
“Yes, of course,” Ephel answered. “The fountain-lilies supply what water we wish to drink, and the Lustrous Lake is large enough for us all to bathe in. Besides these, we have also the Lake of Dry Water, for you must know that the Lustrous Lake is composed of wet water.”
“I thought all water was wet,” said Chubbins.
“It may be so in your country,” replied the Royal Messenger, “but in our Paradise we have both dry and wet water. Would you like to visit these lakes?”
“If you please,” said Twinkle.
CHAPTER XV
The Lake of Dry Water
They flew through the jewelled gardens for quite a way, emerging at last from among the trees to find before them a pretty sheet of water of a greenish hue. Upon the shore were rushes that when swayed by the breeze sang soft strains of music.
“This,” announced their guide, “is the Lake of Dry Water.”
“It looks wet, all right,” said Chubbins, in a tone of doubt.
“But it isn’t,” declared Ephel. “Watch me, if you please.”
He hovered over the lake a moment and then dove downward and disappeared beneath the surface. When he came up again he shook the drops of water from his plumage and then flew back to rejoin his guests.
“Look at me,” he said. “My feathers are not even damp.” They looked, and saw that he spoke truly. Then Chubbins decided to try a bath in the dry water, and also plunged into the lake. When he came to the surface he floated there for a time, and ducked his head again and again; but when he came back to the others not a hair of his head nor a feather of his little brown body was in the least moist.
“That’s fine water,” said the boy-lark. “I suppose you Birds of Paradise bathe here all the time.”
“No,” answered Ephel; “for only wet water is cleansing and refreshing. We always take our daily baths in the Lustrous Lake. But here we usually sail and disport ourselves, for it is a comfort not to get wet when you want to play in the water.”
“How do you sail?” asked Twinkle, with interest.
“I will show you,” replied their guide.
He flew to a tall tree near, that had broad, curling leaves, and plucked a leaf with his bill. The breeze caught it at once and wafted it to the lake, so that it fell gently upon the water.
“Get aboard, please,” called Ephel, and alighted upon the broad surface of the floating leaf. Twinkle and Chubbins followed, one sitting in front of their guide and one behind him. Then Ephel spread out his wings of white and orange, and the breeze pushed gently against them and sent the queer boat gliding over the surface of the dry water.
“Sometimes, when the wind is strong,” said the Royal Messenger, “these frail craft upset, and then we are dumped into the water. But we never mind that, because the water is dry and we are not obliged to dress our feathers again.”
“It is very convenient,” observed Twinkle, who was enjoying the sail. “Could one be drowned in this lake?”
“I suppose an animal, like man, could, for it is as impossible to breathe beneath dry water as it is beneath wet. But only birds live here, and they cannot drown, because as soon as they come to the surface they fly into the air.”
“I see,” said Twinkle, musingly.
They sailed way across the lake, and because the wind
was gentle they did not upset once. On reaching the farther shore they abandoned the leaf-boat and again took wing and resumed their flight through the avenues.
There was a great variety of scenery in the Paradise, and wherever they went something new and different was sure to meet their view.
At one place the avenue was carpeted with big pansies of every color one could imagine, some of them, indeed, having several colors blended together upon their petals. As they passed over the pansies Twinkle heard a chorus of joyous laughter, and looking downward, she perceived that the pansies all had faces, and the faces resembled those of happy children.
“Wait a minute,” she cried to Chubbins and the guide, and then she flew downward until she could see the faces more plainly. They smiled and nodded to the girl-lark, and laughed their merry laughter; but when she spoke to them Twinkle found they were unable to answer a single word.
Many of the faces were exceedingly beautiful; but others were bold and saucy, and a few looked at her with eyes twinkling with mischief. They seemed very gay and contented in their paradise, so Twinkle merely kissed one lovely face that smiled upon her and then flew away to rejoin her companions.
CHAPTER XVI
The Beauty Dance
Before long they came to another and larger sheet of water, and this Twinkle decided was the most beautiful lake she had ever seen. Its waters were mostly deep blue in color, although they had a changeable effect and constantly shifted from one hue to another. Little waves rippled all over its surface, and the edges of the waves were glistening jewels which, as they scattered in spray and fell into the bosom of the lake, glinted and sparkled with a thousand flashing lights. Here were no rushes upon the shore, but instead of them banks of gorgeous flowers grew far down to the water’s edge, so that the last ones dipped their petals into the lake itself.
Nestling upon this bank of flowers the Royal Messenger turned to his companions and said:
“Here let us rest for a time, while I call the friendly fishes to entertain you.”
He ended his speech with a peculiar warble, and at its sound a score of fishes thrust their heads above the surface of the water. Some of them were gold-fish and some silver-fish, but others had opal tints that were very pretty. Their faces were jolly in expression and their eyes, Chubbins thought, must be diamonds, because they sparkled so brightly.
Swimming softly here and there in the lovely waters of the Lustrous Lake, the fishes sang this song:
“We are the fishes of the lake;
Our lives are very deep;
We’re always active when awake
And quiet when asleep.
“We get our fins from Finland,
From books we get out tales;
Our eyes they come from Eyerland
And weighty are our scales.
“We love to flop and twist and turn
Whenever ‘tis our whim.
Yet social etiquette we learn
Because we’re in the swim.
“Our beds, though damp, are always made;
We need no fires to warm us;
When we swim out we’re not afraid,
For autos cannot harm us.
“We’re independent little fish
And never use umbrellas.
We do exactly as we wish
And live like jolly fellows.”
As the fishes concluded their song they leaped high into the air and then plunged under the water and disappeared, and it was hard to tell which sparkled most brilliantly, their gold and silver bodies or the spray of jewels they scattered about them as they leaped.
“If you should dive into this lake,” said Ephel the Messenger, “your feathers would be dripping wet when you came out again. It is here we Birds of Paradise bathe each morning, after which we visit the Gleaming Glade to perform our Beauty Dance.”
“I should like to see that glade,” said Twinkle, who was determined to let nothing escape her that she could possibly see.
“You shall,” answered Ephel, promptly. “We will fly there at once.”
So he led the way and presently they entered a thicker grove of trees than any they had before noticed. The trunks were so close together that the birds could only pass between then in single file, but as they proceeded in this fashion it was not long before they came to a circular space which the child-lark knew at once must be the Gleaming Glade.
The floor was of polished gold, and so bright that as they stood upon it they saw their forms reflected as in a mirror. The trees surrounding them were also of gold, being beautifully engraved with many attractive designs and set with rows of brilliant diamonds. The leaves of the trees, however, were of burnished silver, and bore so high a gloss that each one served as a looking-glass, reproducing the images of those standing in the glade thousands of times, whichever way they chanced to turn.
The gleam of these mirror-like leaves was exceedingly brilliant, but Ephel said this radiance was much stronger in the morning, when the rosy glow of the atmosphere was not so powerful.
“Then,” said he, “the King Bird and all the Nobility of Paradise, who rejoice in the most brilliant plumage, come here from their bath and dance upon the golden floor the Beauty Dance, which keeps their blood warm until the feathers have all dried. While they dance they can admire their reflections in the mirrors, which adds greatly to their pleasure.”
“Don’t they have music to dance by?” asked Chubbins.
“Of course,” the Messenger replied. “There is a regular orchestra that plays exquisite music for the dance; but the musicians are the female Birds of Paradise, who, because their plumage is a modest brown, are not allowed to take part in the Beauty Dance.”
“I think the brown birds with the soft gray breasts are just as pretty as the gaily clothed ones,” said Twinkle. “The male birds are too bright, and tire my eyes.”
Ephel did not like this speech, for he was very proud of his own gorgeous coloring; but he was too polite to argue with his guest, so he let the remark pass.
“You have now witnessed the most attractive scenes in our favored land,” he said; “but there are some curious sights in the suburbs that might serve to interest you.”
“Oh! have you suburbs, too?” she asked.
“Yes, indeed. We do not like to come into too close contact with the coarse, outer world, so we have placed the flying things that are not birds midway between our Paradise and the great forest. They serve us when we need them, and are under our laws and regulations; but they are so highly favored by being permitted to occupy the outer edge of our glorious Paradise that they willingly obey their masters. After all, they live happy lives, and their habits, as I have said, may amuse you.
“Who are they?” enquired Chubbins.
“Come with me, and you shall see for yourselves.”
They flew away from the grove of the Gleaming Glade and Ephel led them by pleasant routes into a large garden with many pretty flowers in it. Mostly it was filled with hollyhocks — yellow, white, scarlet and purple.
CHAPTER XVII
The Queen Bee
As they approached they heard a low, humming sound, which grew louder as they advanced and aroused their curiosity.
“What is it?” asked Twinkle, at last.
Ephel answered: “It is the suburb devoted to the bees.”
“But bees are not birds!” exclaimed Twinkle.
“No; as I have told you, the suburbs contain flying things that cannot be called birds, and so are unable to live in our part of the Paradise. But because they have wings, and love all the flowers and fruits as we do ourselves, we have taken them under our protection.”
Ephel perched upon a low bush, and when the child-larks had settled beside him he uttered a peculiar, shrill whistle. The humming sound grew louder, then, and presently hundreds of great bees rose above the flower tops and hovered in the air. But none of them approached the bush except one monstrous bumble-bee that had a body striped with black and gold, and this one sail
ed slowly toward the visitors and alighted gracefully upon a branch in front of them.
The bee was all bristling with fine hairs and was nearly half as big as Twinkle herself; so the girl shrank back in alarm, and cried:
“Oh-h-h! I’m afraid it will sting me!”
“How ridiculous!” answered the bee, laughing in a small but merry voice. “Our stings are only for our enemies, and we have no enemies in this Paradise; so we do not use our stingers at all. In fact, I’d almost forgotten I had one, until you spoke.”
The words were a little mumbled, as if the insect had something in its mouth, but otherwise they were quite easy to understand.
“Permit me to introduce her Majesty the Queen Bee,” said their guide. “These, your highness, are some little child-larks who are guests of our King. I have brought them to visit you.”
“They are very welcome,” returned the Queen Bee. “Are you fond of honey?” she asked, turning to the children.
“Sometimes,” replied Chubbins; “but we’ve just eaten, and we’re chock full now.”
“You see,” the Queen remarked, “my people are all as busy as bees gathering the honey from every flower.”
“What do you do with it?” asked Twinkle.
“Oh, we eat part of it, and store up the rest for a rainy day.”
“Does it ever rain here?” enquired Chubbins.
“Sometimes, at night, when we are all asleep, so as to refresh and moisten the flowers, and help them to grow.”
“But if it rains at night, there can’t be any rainy days,” remarked Twinkle; “so I can’t see the use of saving your honey.”
“Nor can I,” responded the Queen, laughing again in her pleasant way. “Out in the world people usually rob us of our stores, and so keep us busy getting more. But here there are not even robbers, so that the honey has been accumulating until we hardly know what to do with it. We have built a village of honeycombs, and I have just had my people make me a splendid palace of honey. But it is our way to gather the sweet stuff, whether we need it or not, so we have to act according to our natures. I think of building a mountain of honey next.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 380