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Updated: August 4, 2024
But he silently watched her disappear into her tree-cupboard and then hastily depart as before toward the mountain. "What comes next?" muttered Whitebird to himself. "I am dying to peep into that hole. I cannot wait much longer." Then, after a while, a third time came back the Magpie to the dead tree.
Once upon a time, then, Master Whitebird was teetering on a rose-bush, ruffling his beautiful white feathers and singing little bits of poetry about himself to any one who would listen. "Ho-ho, ho-hee, Just look at me!" he piped, and cocked his little eyes about in every direction, to see who might be admiring his wondrous whiteness.
I will watch to see what comes next," said Whitebird. And he waited. Sure enough. In a little while the Magpie returned, this time bringing something which glowed yellow like sunlight. "It is a piece of gold!" gasped Whitebird, and his eyes bulged out like those of lobsters, he was so jealous of her luck.
And there he saw a great heap of silver and gold and precious stones, which Mother Magpie was trying to cover with her wings. "Oh, what a treasure! What a treasure!" he piped greedily. "Mother Magpie, you must tell me where you found it, that I may go and get some for myself." But Mother Magpie refused to tell. "Oho!" chirped Whitebird, angrily; "we shall see about that!
He seemed like to be roasted alive in this horrible underground oven. But oh, there was the hole close before him! Pouf! With a terrible roar the dragon snapped at him as Whitebird popped through the hole; but he got only a mouthful of burnt tail-feathers. Whitebird was safe, safe in the narrow passage where the dragon could not follow.
The floor on which he stood was deep with gold dust, which squished between his toes like yellow sand on a sea beach. And then Whitebird lost his head and went quite mad, forgetting the words of wise Mother Magpie. "Gold dust, gold dust, a treasure for me!" he sang, hopping up and down on one leg.
But you see he did not really deserve this honor, because he was at heart a greedy bird; and therefore a great shame came upon him, and after that he was never proud nor happy any more. I shall tell you the story of how the Whitebird grew grimy and gloomy as we know him, almost as black and solemn as old Daddy Crow.
Take my advice, and do not touch a grain of treasure before you see the King, or great evil will befall you." Whitebird promised to do as she said. And then away he flew to the blue mountain and its tallest oak. Close by the great oak, in a lonely spot, he found the flat rock, and under it was the cave where once a bear had lived.
"Well, if you will promise me not to let any one else know, not even King Eagle, I will tell you," she said. So Whitebird promised. "Listen," said the Magpie. "You must find the cave which is near the tallest oak on the mountain, under the flat stone. In a corner there is a tiny hole, just big enough for you or me to pass.
Whitebird had seen something black pop into that hole in a sly and secret way, and he began to wonder; for he was inquisitive, as most birds are. He sat quite still on his rose-bush and watched and watched. Presently out of the hole popped a black head, bigger than Whitebird's, with two wise little twinkling eyes.
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