The Bird Boy

: The Firelight Fairy Book

Late one autumn night a young queen stood by her window, gazing upon the

silent and deserted meadows gleaming in the moonlight. Suddenly, far,

far up in the sky, she heard the weird cry of birds flying southward,

and lifting her eyes, the Queen beheld bird after bird fly across the

golden shield of the moon.



"Oh, lovely, happy birds," said she; "would that I might have a son with

wings!"


>
Now it came to pass that before the harvest moon rose again over the

land, the Queen became the mother of a little boy who was born with

wings on his shoulders. But instead of being pleased with so strange and

wonderful a little son, the King (who was very superstitious and under

the domination of wicked chamberlain named Malefico) took it into his

head that his wife was a sorceress, and gave orders that she should be

imprisoned in a lonely tower and the child destroyed. So the Queen and

her baby were taken to an old and gloomy tower on a great rock

overlooking the northern sea; and after they had been there a day or

two, the chief jailer came to the Queen's room to take the child and

kill him.





[Foreground, small winged boy seat on the ground, approached

by a large bird in flight; background, small cottage.]



Every year, on the Bird-Boy's birthday, a great gray bird was seen.





The Queen, when she heard this terrible order, uttered a gasping scream,

and seizing her little son from out his cradle, pressed him close to her

breast. But although she fought for her baby with all her might, the

rude strength of the jailers prevailed, and the child was torn from its

mother's arms. Then, before anyone could prevent her, the poor Queen

beat open the rotted fastening of an old casement window, sprang upon

the ledge, and giving one last look of love and tenderness to her

unhappy child, leaped down into the sea surging and pounding over the

rocks hundreds of feet below. She certainly would have been dashed to

pieces, had not a good spirit of the ocean taken pity on her, and

changed her into a great gray bird. Crying mournfully, the bird circled

the old tower thrice, and disappeared over the white-capped waters.



In spite of his roughness, however, the jailer was neither a brutal nor

a wicked man, and he did not relish the cruel task which the King had

given him. So, instead of killing the bird-boy, he carried him many

leagues back into the dark forest which bordered the sea, and gave him

to a family of charcoal-burners. With these rough, good people the

bird-boy lived till he was five years old. And every year, on the boy's

birthday, a great gray bird came flying over the forest from the distant

ocean, circled thrice the charcoal-burners' hut, and disappeared again,

crying mournfully.



One midsummer day, with a great deal of merry hallooing and blowing of

sweet-voiced horns, the King of the country, accompanied by his young

wife, came hunting through the wood. There was a pretty spring near the

door of the hut, and the party came to a halt at its edge. Out ran the

winged boy and his two little foster-brothers, to see the wonderful

sight. And a wonderful sight it was, indeed, to see the horses tossing

their jeweled bridles, the hooded falcons riding on the saddlebow,

clutching the leather with their curving claws, the merry young pages in

their dark suits, and all the gay company in rich attire.



"Why, see," said the young Queen to her husband, "yon little boy hath

wings. Really, dear, I must have him for my page. Would n't it be

wonderful to have a winged page? Besides, he will be a playmate for

Rosabella."



So the King gave the charcoal-burner and his wife fifty pieces of bright

gold, which pleased them very much, and the charcoal-burner himself

lifted the bird-boy up in his arms, and placed him on the King's saddle.

Then the bird-boy waved good-bye to his two little ragged

foster-brothers, who were howling as if their hearts would break, and

rode away with the King. In a few hours the company came to a splendid

castle of shining white stone, standing in beautiful green gardens

running down to the sea. Once at home, the Queen commanded that the

little winged boy be washed and tidied, and his charcoal-burner's rags

replaced with a pretty black velvet suit. You may be sure that, when the

bird-boy was washed and dressed, there was no handsomer, more winning

little boy in all the world.



So the bird-boy became the best beloved playmate of the Queen's only

child, her darling Rosabella. Now, if the bird-boy was the prettiest

little boy in all the world, Rosabella was the prettiest little girl.

Moreover, she had a sweet disposition, which is a gift even more

precious than the gift of beauty. It was a lovely picture to see the

children building toy castles on the floor of the nursery in the castle

tower, the sun streaming on the black-brown hair and silver white wings

of the little boy, and on the golden curls of Rosabella.



Twelve years passed. The bird-boy grew into a handsome lad; Rosabella

into the loveliest of princesses. Twice had the bird-boy saved

Rosabella's life. He had saved her the first time by swooping down and

catching her in his wings just as she was about to tread on a wicked

yellow viper; he had saved her in the same way when she had fallen over

a cliff at the edge of the sea.



Every year, on the bird-boy's birthday, a great gray bird would fly in

from over the sea, circle the castle thrice, and disappear, crying

mournfully.



Now when the bird-boy and Rosabella were in their seventeenth year, it

came to pass that the King was summoned to war. His enemy was no other

than the wicked chamberlain Malefico, who had succeeded to the kingdom

of the bird-boy's father, when that Prince had died some years before.

So the good King, who had been a real father to the bird-boy, put on his

shining armor, kissed his dear wife and child good-bye, and rode off to

the battlefield. The bird-boy begged and pleaded to be taken with him as

his squire, but the King would not hear of it, and insisted that he

remain in the castle to take care of the Queen and Rosabella. There was

little cheer in the castle that unhappy evening. And all night long, the

bird-boy thought he could hear the wings of a great bird beating

fiercely against the window-panes.



A month passed, an unhappy month in which there were no tidings from the

King. Then, one rainy morning, a messenger who had ridden so hard that

his poor horse could scarcely stagger, rode to the castle gate bearing

very evil news. A great battle had been fought, the army of Rosabella's

father had been completely defeated, and the troops of the wicked

Malefico were hurrying toward the castle as fast as they could come.



And so it was; for before the Queen had had time to summon the people

and gather together a few belongings, the troops of the enemy burst in

at the gate, and a dozen fierce soldiers surrounded the Queen,

Rosabella, and the bird-boy, and dragged them to Malefico.



When Malefico saw the bird-boy, a look of surprise appeared on his face,

for he had believed that the wonderful child was dead. Then he fell to

thinking, and as he thought, wicked purposes swept over his cruel face

just as the shadows of dark clouds sweep over a gloomy pool.



"If it were known that the winged child is alive," he thought, "the

people would thrust me from my place, and restore him to his father's

throne. Now that the bird-boy is in my hands, I will destroy him, and be

sure of my power."



So he smiled, and began to think of some manner in which he could bring

the bird-boy to a shameful end. At last he hit upon a plan. He would

declare that the bird-boy was not a human lad at all, but a witch-child;

he would then accuse the good King of having protected a witch-child,

and condemn them both to be stoned. So he threw the King and the Queen,

Rosabella and the bird-boy, into an old dungeon-tower, and went through

the mockery of having a trial. When it was over, he sent a soldier to

tell the King and the bird-boy that they were to be punished the

following day.



And now dawned the unhappy day. The bird-boy took Rosabella's hand in

his, and together they went to the barred window of the prison and

looked out upon the world. The morning was fresh and fair; a pleasant

southwest wind was blowing. The King and the bird-boy were to be led

forth at noon. The clock marked a quarter to twelve.



"Dear Rosabella," said the bird-boy sadly, "we have forgotten that

to-day is the day on which the great gray bird comes from the ocean and

circles the castle towers. If thou shouldst see the bird when I am gone,

greet it in my name, as we did when we were happy children."



"The bird may come," said Rosabella amid her sobs.



"No, Rosabella," said the bird-boy, "I shall never see the gray bird

again. And even if it were to come, what could it do to save us from

these cruel people?"



When the clock stood at five minutes to twelve, there was a confused

noise below, and Malefico and the judges who shared with him the guilt

of the unrighteous punishment took their places on a kind of platform

which overlooked the place of execution.



"They will soon be coming to get us," said the King to the bird-boy.



And sure enough, they heard the jangle of the jailer's keys at the foot

of the stair.



Suddenly the sunlight in the room faded swiftly into a strange gray

gloom, and the bird-boy rushed to the window to see if a storm was at

hand. A great shadowy cloud, advancing with inconceivable rapidity,

already filled half the sky, and as the boy gazed into this cloud, he

saw to his astonishment that it was not a cloud at all, but hundreds and

hundreds of thousands of great gray birds, flapping their long wings.

The shadow of the birds fell over the platform on which the cruel

Malefico sat waiting for the King and the bird-boy to be brought forth,

and then ceased moving even as a ship that has come into harbor.



Far ahead of the vast swarm flew one lonely bird, and suddenly this bird

uttered a shrill and piercing cry. Immediately every bird let fall a

great beach-stone which he held in his claws, and for a long minute, the

sky rained stones, round, polished stones that fell like bolts of

thunder. When the storm was over, and the cloud had begun to break into

rifts and speckles of light and flapping gray wings, the wicked Malefico

and his cruel nobles lay buried forever beneath mound upon mound of

stones. The doom which Malefico had intended for another had overtaken

him.



The King and the Queen, Rosabella and the bird-boy, rushed down the

stairs and out into the sunlight. As they did so, the gray bird who had

led the cloud, sank through the air and alighted at their feet. But

scarcely had the bird's claws touched the ground, when there was a flash

of flame, and the bird-boy's mother stood before them. She took her son

in her arms, and told them all his history and her misfortunes, and how

she had watched over him year after year and gathered the birds to save

him.



Thus it came to pass that, when the troops of Malefico saw their former

Queen and heard her story, they acclaimed the bird-boy as their rightful

king, and carried him back in triumph into his own country. So the

bird-boy became a king, married Rosabella, and lived happily ever after.



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