DAVID RAN TO THE FOOT OF THE
TREE, FASTENED THE HEAD OF HIS
AX IN THE HOLE
foot of the tree and fastened the head of his axe in the hole, which he could just reach by standing on tiptoe. Then, using the handle of his axe to help him, he pulled himself up till he was able to look in.
Such a sight as met his eyes! Instead of being dark and black, as were most holes of its kind into which David had ever looked, this opening seemed filled with light. It gave him the same feeling of wonder that comes over one when first one looks at the moon through a telescope. He saw a blaze of golden light; and within the light lay a world that seemed to him like Fairyland itself. He gazed and gazed, clinging to the axe handle, digging his toes into the rough bark, lest he fall to the ground and so see no more.
At last, unable to hold on any longer, he was obliged to let go and drop to the ground. Somehow his axe became dislodged from the hole, and try as he might, he could not fasten it in again. He sat down at the foot of the tree, for he was very tired; and in a few moments he had fallen fast asleep.
CHAPTER III
THE LITTLE DOOR IN THE TREE TRUNK
HE had no idea how long he had slept or what awakened him; but when he finally opened his eyes, the sun was low in the western sky. His first thought was of the Blue Bird: what had happened to it? Had it flown away and left David there? Had he really lost the Bird after all this long adventure of following it faithfully? Perhaps it was waiting for him somewhere near; perhaps if he listened he should hear the song again. He waited. The sun sank lower and lower. But no bird’s song came to his listening ear. At last the sun almost touched the horizon.
“I must look for the Bird!” cried David. “Perhaps it is waiting for me to find it.” He jumped up and searched all about in the branches of the great tree, but no trace could he find of his little wingèd guide.
Suddenly he noticed what he had never seen before: the bark on one side of the tree was rolled back, baring the smooth wood underneath. However this had happened, it must have happened a long, long time ago, for the surface was weathered and stained the colour of the rough bark itself. In the middle of this smooth gray surface he noticed a curious little knob, not unlike the handle on a door. Looking more closely, he then discovered a tiny crack running around the smooth portion of the wood, about two inches from the edge of the bark. To his astonishment, he discovered that this was a little door, just large enough for him to crawl through. He opened it, got down on his hands and knees, and crawled in. The door closed behind him with a sharp click-clack, and he found himself standing in a flood of light and at the edge of the same country upon which he had gazed a few moments before, when he had peered into the hole through which the Blue Bird had flown.