Amos clasped his hand, and then, rushing off, dashed back again.
"Here, Chris. Our fruits. Better not to eat strange food in this foreigny place. Good luck," he added.
Chris stuffed the dried fruit in his pocket. Amos turned back into the darkening pine knoll, and Chris pushed his way out to the narrow steep ledge, hanging high above the roofs of Peking.
Chris uncoiled the magic rope from around his waist, and standing as far out on the rock ledge as he dared, in order to have the greatest possible freedom of movement, he attempted for the first time to draw an eagle in the air with the rope. It was a complicated, fast maneuver. The rope twisted and whipped in the air, and the result was a molted-looking, droop-tailed buzzard. Its wings were not wide enough, its back very insecure to look at. In short, Chris knew, it was a total failure.
He tried again, racing against the oncoming darkness, and this time he succeeded, although, when he pulled it close and straddled the body of the magic bird, his heart was in his throat that it might unfurl itself, become just a rope, and hurl him to his death far below.
But this second eagle seemed secure enough. Chris pressed his hands on the wings spread out on either side, with a jolt they flapped, and the boy's strange conveyance moved somewhat unsteadily through the air.
Chris, frightened but resolute, found that by touching the head of the bird in the direction he wanted to go, the magic eagle would turn, and after a few moments to test out his new method of travel, Chris coasted over the gaily tiled roofs as he hunted for something.
Peking at that time had many palaces. Wealthy Chinese and people of title and family owned beautiful houses set in terraced gardens surrounded by parks and ancient trees. Somewhere, Chris had heard of this and remembered it, and now in the dusk that was nearly night, the eagle carried him silently over the city as he looked for what he wanted to find.
At last the very fragrance, rising up toward him on the night air, guided him to a large palace set in gardens. Pools of water reflected the first stars among their lilypads. The shaded walks and lawns were deserted at that hour.