“Never mind,” cried the giant cheerily, when Jack had finished. “Birds fly farther than men ever go; and perhaps some of them will have been to the ends of the earth. Anyway we shall soon find out, for I am master of all the birds of the air.”
Jack thanked him, and the giant took from his pocket a great golden whistle and blew it with the sweetest sound, that seemed to pierce the air in all directions. In just a minute the sky was full of flying birds. The eagles and the hawks came first, the gulls and all the birds with long, strong wings; then the swallows, the robins, the blue jays and the doves, and last the parrots and macaws and all the gay birds of the jungle. They lit on the giant’s shoulders, and Jack’s, all over the turret and the castle towers, chattering and cheeping till Jack had to put his fingers in his ears.
When the giant thought they were all there, he blew his whistle for silence.
“Which of you has been to the ends of the earth?” he cried.
But all the birds kept still, for none of them had ever been so far.
And if Jack had been downhearted before, now he was ten times more so, for where to turn next he didn’t know.
As for the giant, he said never a word, but began counting the birds, one by one. “There’s one missing!” he cried at last.
As he spoke there was a loud beating of wings, and Jack looked up to see an eagle ten times larger than any of the others, flying toward them.
“You’re late,” called the giant sternly.