He folded the bit of paper carefully, and the Bird took it in its beak and flew over the casement window, dropping it on the sill just in front of Ruth. She opened it, read the message. Tears of joy filled her eyes. Then, eagerly, she wrote this answer:
“I am watched and guarded constantly. I cannot possibly come to you, David. You must capture the Pale-Coloured Wingèd Horse. He only can save my life. Capture him, come to the Palace some dark starless night riding upon his back, and fly to the garden at the eastern side of the Palace. There I can meet you, but I cannot go outside the garden wall. Help me, David dear—no one else can ever save me.
“Ruth.”
She had just time to finish the message, fold it, and drop it from the casement window, when one of the women of the Palace came to her. It was time to begin her daily tasks and lessons. But the faithful Blue Bird was still keeping watch, and the bit of white paper had no sooner touched the ground than he flew to it, seized it in his beak, and bore it safely to David.
“The Pale-Coloured Wingèd Horse?” said David. “Where can I find him? He must be the same of which she spoke in the Mansion of Happiness. She told me I must go on past the Bronze King’s Palace, where the Lions are! I wonder where the Lions are, and why I have not seen them? I will go on, for I must capture the horse: I know that is the only way to rescue Ruth.—Blue Bird, guide me!” he cried aloud.
A flash of azure darted before his eyes and disappeared round the corner of the Palace wall. He followed, almost running in his eagerness not to lose sight of his trusted guide.
Turning the corner of the great brick wall, he came suddenly into the very midst of the Lions. There were a dozen or more of them, some standing, some lying down dozing in the warm, bright sunshine. David was thoroughly frightened when he realized where he was, and he hesitated, not knowing what was best to do; for he had come upon them so suddenly that he had run right into their midst before realizing where he was. He drew his hunting-knife from its sheath, for he was not one to turn back. He had learned long ago that more is gained by keeping bravely on than by wasting time trying to retrace one’s footsteps.
Soon he noticed that each Lion was chained and that the beasts, great, fierce, and powerful as they were, could only move as far as their chains would allow. Beyond this point they were as powerless and harmless as tethered watch dogs. But as David advanced, the Lions walked toward him, closing in on either side, and the boy’s heart sank within him lest, after all, one of the terrible creatures reach him. He noticed a narrow pathway running through the grass, and this he followed slowly, deliberately, and carefully, for he felt that it must have been worn by those who knew the safe and sure way through the domain of these fierce creatures. He proved his wisdom thereby; for although, as he advanced, each Lion pulled its chain taut, none could quite reach him. Yet several times he felt their hot, burning breath upon his cheek as he passed them by.
At last he reached a point beyond and away from them. “There!” he said to himself, “that is over. How truly terrible it seemed while I was doing it! If I had run blindly forward when I wakened to a realization of where I was, I should probably have run right into the jaws of the first Lion; but I went slowly and picked my way, and here I am, safe. Now I can look back over the trail and see how the path winds in and out. Yes, indeed, it does pay to be careful and keep one’s eyes open, after all!”
As he thought about it he began to wonder why the Lions had made no noise. Not one of them had roared or even growled. The reason was really this, though David did not know it: the Lions were all trained to guard that little path over which David had walked so wisely and cautiously. They had been taught that one who walked on the path was not to be disturbed; for only those who had self-possession and wisdom could see to choose the way of safety. But any who, coming that way, diverged from the pathway, were not wise; and these could and should suffer for their folly. Many a one had already become food for the ravenous beasts, who were at all times half starved. Had David taken one misstep, had he left the little narrow winding path by so much as a hair’s breadth, the Lions would have roared furiously, alarmed all within the Palace, and frightened poor David so terribly that he would have run blindly on, and so have been caught and devoured. He little realized how narrow an escape he had had.