Forest Friends

by Royal Dixon

Then, in the earliest dawn, before the blazing sun had blanched the palace walls, White Wing soared slowly into the air, leaving the great Emperor standing alone by the deserted altar. There were no cheering crowds as there had been when he came to that terrible city, and in their stead were camps and tents and all the sights of preparing war upon the plains. But the Emperor's hands were upraised and his face was very splendid as he gazed off into the heavens whither his wonderful white flamingo was disappearing.

All that consoled the bird in the sorrow of leaving his master was the thought of having saved the great man's life. But for that, he would have died from misery, believing that he should have stayed there until his own life was taken. He little knew that thousands of his own kind were waiting for him. But such was the case, and he soon learned as he flew toward the setting sun, retracing his journey, that he was already the prince of birds. Whole flocks of beautiful parrots, and great orioles, and tropic thrushes would greet him and fly in hosts ahead of him. From the great city down through the wide valley and the dark forests to the coast, he traveled with couriers to tell all the birds of his coming. And as he passed, at last, out over the ocean to find the island whence he had come, there were flocks and flocks of flamingoes overtaking and surrounding him.

One strange thing he saw, and that was a fleet of ships with sails greater than ever he had dreamed of. These were galleons of the conquerors, come to destroy the city of barbaric splendors where White Wing had been a courtier. But he did not know this, and only marveled at the sight.

At last, when his escort had grown to such numbers that, flying as they did in single file, the line of birds seemed to arch the sky from east to west, he came to the coast which he knew to be his own. Then to the selfsame stretch of coral beach, where the palms were leaning over the dunes exactly as he had left them. With slackened speed and flying lower and lower until he caught the scent of the old familiar earth, he skimmed above the lagoon and was suddenly over his home! White Wing flew straight to his mother.

The thousand relatives and as many new ones were there too, and with the arrival of White Wing's friends, who had glided in, one after another, the confusion of greetings in Flamingotown was deafening.

From then until his death, which was not to be for many, many years, White Wing, whose adventures had become known until they were household words, was the ruler of all flamingoes everywhere.

That he was beneficent, you may be sure. And for one thing, quite the greatest thing in his life, he instituted a change in family life by decreeing that all the gentlemen should take their turn in helping the lady birds to hatch their eggs. It is from his reign that this admirable custom dates, as Mrs. Leatherback will assure you.

As for that generous lady, she came to have her part in the history of the times. For the great explorers who came to ravish the kingdom where White Wing received such honors, happened to take Mrs. Leatherback captive on one of the islands. They took her aboard ship and were all for taking her back with them to the great court of Spain. But even after they had branded her with the arms of the court of Castile and Aragon, and had secured her to the deck of the galleon, she eluded them and fell into the sea. Consequently she has lived these hundreds of years a member, as she is pleased to think, of the greatest court in Europe. She soon came in the round of her journeys to White Wing's island and there she visited him a long time. So they could recount their adventures; and he has never ceased to love her for the cheer she gave him that first night of his lonely journey. For her part, she is only too proud of her Prince Flamingo, as she calls him, thereby disputing honors with the gentle mother bird, who has always been too happy to talk much about her little White Wing.

So all the above is just as the Heron tells it. And he is the one who knows Mrs. Leatherback the best, and he has had it from her many times. Moreover, he always ends with the wish that in some way that old turtle could have the last desire of her life fulfilled. Strange as it may seem, she has never seen the wonderful device of the Spanish Arms which was branded and carved upon her back. It gives her a wry neck to attempt it and she has given up trying. So she always lives in hope of finding a looking-glass some day at the bottom of the sea.

But meanwhile she contents herself with getting her friends to tell her how it looks, and it is because the Heron is very particular to do this, and do it well, thereby making the old lady feel comfortable, that he can always get her to relate the story of Prince Flamingo.