Top of the World Stories for Boys and Girls Part 12

As he sat there, he heard a soft rustling at his side and saw a little lizard come from the wall of rock and creep forth among the ferns. It wriggled its supple little body out into the suns.h.i.+ne and then lay perfectly still in front of Anton, gazing at him with its clear eyes.

"That was a beautiful song you sang," said the lizard. "Would you be so kind as to sing it once more? I am foolishly crazy over music."

"I can certainly do that much for you," answered Anton, and hummed the song again. He kept the switch behind him now, not wis.h.i.+ng the lizard to see that he had it.

The lizard lay perfectly still, listening, but when the song was finished the little creature said to Anton, "Come, Anton, what are you really thinking of? I think your dark eyes have a sly look in them.

Surely you are not, by any chance, intending to harm me?"

"Oh, I don't know!" said Anton, smacking his whip. "But I do think it might be amusing to give you a hit with this so that you snapped in two like a piece of gla.s.s."

"Do you think so?" asked the lizard drawing its tail close. "Well, well! How strange! It seems to me that would not be at all amusing. I think it is much more amusing to live, to lie here and enjoy myself in the suns.h.i.+ne."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LIZARD LAY PERFECTLY STILL, LISTENING--_Page 146_.]

Anton began to laugh, but continued to beat the ground with his switch.

"Listen, Anton," said the lizard. "I have really such a very short time to live. Let me go in peace. Don't do me any harm. Perhaps I can be of use to you some day. You may be sure you will never regret it if you let me go."

"What could such a forlorn little creature as you ever do for me?" asked Anton, as he got up. "But since you ask me so prettily, I will let you run. Suppose we see which of us will get to Falkensten first."

"Oh, I shall, I shall!" hissed the lizard; and it hurried away through the gra.s.s, calling back, however, "Farewell, Anton; you may be sure I shall not lose sight of you." With that, the lizard disappeared and Anton resumed his toilsome journey.

The sun mounted higher and higher and the whole sky was like a sea of burning light. The houses and churches in the valley looked now like many tiny white stones scattered over the ground. The path, steeper and steeper, led through a grove of larches, and here little Anton must again rest. He took two big swallows from his bottle, and wiped his hot face with his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves.

Hearing a strange cracking sound over his head and looking up, he saw a little squirrel that sat on the branch of a neighboring larch, eating the seeds from a cone. Between the mouthfuls he spat the sh.e.l.ls down, chattering softly meanwhile as if to say, "What an excellent breakfast this is! Truly a delicious breakfast!"

Anton took his old gun quietly from his shoulder, got down on his knees, and crept carefully along. He held the gun by its barrel. With the b.u.t.t end he could easily enough hit the little squirrel. But the alert creature, which was watching him with keen, anxious eyes, saw him before he had raised the b.u.t.t end, and with a couple of big leaps, reached a higher branch of the tree.

"What are you going to do to me?" asked the frightened squirrel, poking his little head out. "What is it you really want to do to me?"

"Oh, I should just like to have your tail!" said Anton. "It would be a nice fur collar for me when the autumn storms howl from the mountain tops."

"But I would so much rather keep my tail myself," said the squirrel, raising it as high as he could in the air. "You see I was born with this tail, and therefore it is mine; and so, if you kill me and take it away from me, you are a thief,--a thief,--a real little tail-stealer!"

"You must stop saying such rude words," said Anton, lifting the gun. "If I can only catch you, your tail will be mine."

"No, stop, stop!" shrieked the squirrel, springing about in the branches. "It is horrid and ugly and disgusting of you. I don't want to be crushed with the b.u.t.t end of a gun. It is ugly of you to think of it, ugly, ugly! And to be broken off in the middle of my nice breakfast to be murdered is truly most unpleasant. Would you like that, little Anton?"

The squirrel still leaped and sprang from branch to branch in fright.

Anton laid his gun on the ground.

"Oh, little Anton!" piped the squirrel. "Let me alone! Let me hop around, a happy living squirrel. That is so much better and pleasanter!"

"Well, hop then," said Anton, throwing the gun over his shoulder again.

"I am afraid I should dream of the frightened look in your eyes. And now we might see which of us can get to Falkensten first."

"Oh, I shall, I shall!" called the squirrel, wild with joy. "If you are going to Falkensten, I shall go, too. No harm shall happen to you while I am able to hop." With that, the squirrel set off with long leaps from tree to tree, and soon disappeared; and Anton walked on up the mountain.

The air became more and more sultry. The sky, which had been bright blue, grew white in some places, and the white ran together like thick milk and heaped itself in close ma.s.ses. The sun was no longer to be seen. The clouds changed to gray and violet and dark-blue, with glowing edges, and thunder began to roll among the mountains. Anton could not see the valley now at all. The lofty peaks towered one behind another, and there seemed to be nothing else in the world. The path grew steeper and yet steeper.

Little Anton began to be frightfully tired. He had to lie down again and again on the ground, groaning with weariness. Not a drop more of the refres.h.i.+ng sour wine did he have to quench his thirst,--the bottle had been drained long ago.

Suddenly he heard a rus.h.i.+ng sound, and lo! from the rock bubbled a white foaming stream of water, so fresh and living that one could not understand how it could gush forth from the dead stones. Anton knelt down and drank eagerly from his hands. Never had he found any draught so wonderfully reviving.

When he had quenched his thirst, he thought he would resume his journey, but at that instant he caught sight of a dove flying toward him. It was a charming wood-dove, with blue-flecked wings and a little round head.

The dove must, like him, have been thirsty, for she flew directly to the foaming water and bent over it to drink. "That is a lovely bird,"

thought Anton; and he took his gun noiselessly from his shoulder. "I can surely hit her."

He had laid the gun to his cheek and was taking aim, when the dove lifted her head from the water and fluttered her wings.

"Why should you shoot me, little Anton?" she asked. "You have quenched your thirst and I have quenched mine. The spring has been good to both of us. Why should you do evil to me?"

"You have such beautiful wings," said Anton. "It would look fine if I stretched you out flat and fastened you on the barn door."

"It looks much finer when I float upward toward the sunlight," said the dove. "The mountain path is difficult for you, little Anton; but you are at least free to pursue your way. Let me fly mine. Here in these solitudes no one should do another harm."

The dove looked so gentle and talked in such friendly tones that Anton felt thoroughly ashamed of himself.

"Yes, fly away, little dove, fly wherever you will," said he, waving his hands. "We might see which of us two will get to Falkensten first."

"Oh, I shall!" responded the dove, lifting her wings. "But if it is to that fierce Baron you are taking a message, I prefer to wait outside on the tower." Then up she flew.

The sky was now one dark ma.s.s of thunder-clouds. The thunder rumbled among the mountains; the green fields on the heights shone out like emeralds against the dark blue haze beyond. All creatures had become wonderfully silent; not a bird sang, not an insect hummed. Anton went forward with dragging step, and the dove floated silently above him,--a white speck against the dark sky.

But what was that high up there on the cliff? It was a little chamois that stood with all its four feet close together on a point of rock, and looked about.

"Hurrah! I shall get you!" thought Anton as he c.o.c.ked his gun; but the chamois with a couple of nimble bounds sprang farther up the mountain.

"Ho, ho! That won't help you any!" said Anton, running nearer to the rocks where the chamois stood. "I am a good shot, let me tell you; and I must have prey of some sort to take with me from the mountain."

"But why should you kill me?" asked the chamois, bounding a little farther away. "What harm have I ever done to you? Does it annoy you that I stand here and look at the view?"

"No, but you have such handsome little horns. I should like to put them up over my door as a sign that I had conquered you."

"For you to conquer me would be easy," said the chamois. "You have a gun, and I have nothing. But I had always believed that the mountain was made for us both."

Anton made no reply but scrambled hastily up the rocks to get nearer the chamois.

"Oh, Anton, little Anton! let me alone!" called the chamois, making the longest leap it could. "I would truly rather have my horns on my head than over your door! Cannot you understand that? If you love your freedom, let me keep mine."

At that moment the thunder pealed with a frightful crash among the mountains. Anton became altogether uncomfortable and put his gun down.

"Leap where you will, then," he called to the chamois. "Perhaps we might see which of us can get to Falkensten first."

"Oh, I shall, surely," said the chamois, starting off with a big leap.

"But I will wait for you outside the castle wall, and if you need my help you will know where to find me." And with these words the chamois vanished.

"Shall I never, never reach Falkensten?" groaned Anton. He was dead tired and began to think he had gone astray, but suddenly, at a turn in the path, the castle stood before him as if it had sprung up out of the earth.

It was of the same color as the rocks upon which it was built, and how big and high and thick-walled it was! It had but few windows scattered here and there on the side toward the path. From the tower waved Rynkebryn's banner,--a fiery red flag on which was a black falcon. The drawbridge that led over to the castle was drawn up, and over the chasm that was between the rocks on which the castle was built and the other rocks, there was only a rough narrow bridge, made of slender branches placed side by side.