Late one autumn night a young queen stood by her window, gazing upon the
silent and deserted meadows gleaming in the moonlight. Suddenly, far,
far up in the sky, she heard the weird cry of birds flying southward,
and lifting her eyes, the Queen beheld bird after bird fly across the
golden shield of the moon.

"Oh, lovely, happy birds," said she; "would that I might have a son with
wings!"

Now it came to pass that before the harvest moon rose again over the
land, the Queen became the mother of a little boy who was born with
wings on his shoulders. But instead of being pleased with so strange and
wonderful a little son, the King (who was very superstitious and under
the domination of wicked chamberlain named Malefico) took it into his
head that his wife was a sorceress, and gave orders that she should be
imprisoned in a lonely tower and the child destroyed. So the Queen and
her baby were taken to an old and gloomy tower on a great rock
overlooking the northern sea; and after they had been there a day or
two, the chief jailer came to the Queen's room to take the child and
kill him.


[Illustration: Foreground, small winged boy seat on the ground, approached
by a large bird in flight; background, small cottage.]

Every year, on the Bird-Boy's birthday, a great gray bird was seen.


The Queen, when she heard this terrible order, uttered a gasping scream,
and seizing her little son from out his cradle, pressed him close to her
breast. But although she fought for her baby with all her might, the
rude strength of the jailers prevailed, and the child was torn from its
mother's arms. Then, before anyone could prevent her, the poor Queen
beat open the rotted fastening of an old casement window, sprang upon
the ledge, and giving one last look of love and tenderness to her
unhappy child, leaped down into the sea surging and pounding over the
rocks hundreds of feet below. She certainly would have been dashed to
pieces, had not a good spirit of the ocean taken pity on her, and
changed her into a great gray bird. Crying mournfully, the bird circled
the old tower thrice, and disappeared over the white-capped waters.

In spite of his roughness, however, the jailer was neither a brutal nor
a wicked man, and he did not relish the cruel task which the King had
given him. So, instead of killing the bird-boy, he carried him many
leagues back into the dark forest which bordered the sea, and gave him
to a family of charcoal-burners. With these rough, good people the
bird-boy lived till he was five years old. And every year, on the boy's
birthday, a great gray bird came flying over the forest from the distant
ocean, circled thrice the charcoal-burners' hut, and disappeared again,
crying mournfully.

One midsummer day, with a great deal of merry hallooing and blowing of
sweet-voiced horns, the King of the country, accompanied by his young
wife, came hunting through the wood. There was a pretty spring near the
door of the hut, and the party came to a halt at its edge. Out ran the
winged boy and his two little foster-brothers, to see the wonderful
sight. And a wonderful sight it was, indeed, to see the horses tossing
their jeweled bridles, the hooded falcons riding on the saddlebow,
clutching the leather with their curving claws, the merry young pages in
their dark suits, and all the gay company in rich attire.

"Why, see," said the young Queen to her husband, "yon little boy hath
wings. Really, dear, I must have him for my page. Would n't it be
wonderful to have a winged page? Besides, he will be a playmate for
Rosabella."

So the King gave the charcoal-burner and his wife fifty pieces of bright
gold, which pleased them very much, and the charcoal-burner himself
lifted the bird-boy up in his arms, and placed him on the King's saddle.
Then the bird-boy waved good-bye to his two little ragged
foster-brothers, who were howling as if their hearts would break, and
rode away with the King. In a few hours the company came to a splendid
castle of shining white stone, standing in beautiful green gardens
running down to the sea. Once at home, the Queen commanded that the
little winged boy be washed and tidied, and his charcoal-burner's rags
replaced with a pretty black velvet suit. You may be sure that, when the
bird-boy was washed and dressed, there was no handsomer, more winning
little boy in all the world.

So the bird-boy became the best beloved playmate of the Queen's only
child, her darling Rosabella. Now, if the bird-boy was the prettiest
little boy in all the world, Rosabella was the prettiest little girl.
Moreover, she had a sweet disposition, which is a gift even more
precious than the gift of beauty. It was a lovely picture to see the
children building toy castles on the floor of the nursery in the castle
tower, the sun streaming on the black-brown hair and silver white wings
of the little boy, and on the golden curls of Rosabella.

Twelve years passed. The bird-boy grew into a handsome lad; Rosabella
into the loveliest of princesses. Twice had the bird-boy saved
Rosabella's life. He had saved her the first time by swooping down and
catching her in his wings just as she was about to tread on a wicked
yellow viper; he had saved her in the same way when she had fallen over
a cliff at the edge of the sea.

Every year, on the bird-boy's birthday, a great gray bird would fly in
from over the sea, circle the castle thrice, and disappear, crying
mournfully.

Now when the bird-boy and Rosabella were in their seventeenth year, it
came to pass that the King was summoned to war. His enemy was no other
than the wicked chamberlain Malefico, who had succeeded to the kingdom
of the bird-boy's father, when that Prince had died some years before.
So the good King, who had been a real father to the bird-boy, put on his
shining armor, kissed his dear wife and child good-bye, and rode off to
the battlefield. The bird-boy begged and pleaded to be taken with him as
his squire, but the King would not hear of it, and insisted that he
remain in the castle to take care of the Queen and Rosabella. There was
little cheer in the castle that unhappy evening. And all night long, the
bird-boy thought he could hear the wings of a great bird beating
fiercely against the window-panes.

A month passed, an unhappy month in which there were no tidings from the
King. Then, one rainy morning, a messenger who had ridden so hard that
his poor horse could scarcely stagger, rode to the castle gate bearing
very evil news. A great battle had been fought, the army of Rosabella's
father had been completely defeated, and the troops of the wicked
Malefico were hurrying toward the castle as fast as they could come.

And so it was; for before the Queen had had time to summon the people
and gather together a few belongings, the troops of the enemy burst in
at the gate, and a dozen fierce soldiers surrounded the Queen,
Rosabella, and the bird-boy, and dragged them to Malefico.

When Malefico saw the bird-boy, a look of surprise appeared on his face,
for he had believed that the wonderful child was dead. Then he fell to
thinking, and as he thought, wicked purposes swept over his cruel face
just as the shadows of dark clouds sweep over a gloomy pool.

"If it were known that the winged child is alive," he thought, "the
people would thrust me from my place, and restore him to his father's
throne. Now that the bird-boy is in my hands, I will destroy him, and be
sure of my power."

So he smiled, and began to think of some manner in which he could bring
the bird-boy to a shameful end. At last he hit upon a plan. He would
declare that the bird-boy was not a human lad at all, but a witch-child;
he would then accuse the good King of having protected a witch-child,
and condemn them both to be stoned. So he threw the King and the Queen,
Rosabella and the bird-boy, into an old dungeon-tower, and went through
the mockery of having a trial. When it was over, he sent a soldier to
tell the King and the bird-boy that they were to be punished the
following day.

And now dawned the unhappy day. The bird-boy took Rosabella's hand in
his, and together they went to the barred window of the prison and
looked out upon the world. The morning was fresh and fair; a pleasant
southwest wind was blowing. The King and the bird-boy were to be led
forth at noon. The clock marked a quarter to twelve.

"Dear Rosabella," said the bird-boy sadly, "we have forgotten that
to-day is the day on which the great gray bird comes from the ocean and
circles the castle towers. If thou shouldst see the bird when I am gone,
greet it in my name, as we did when we were happy children."

"The bird may come," said Rosabella amid her sobs.

"No, Rosabella," said the bird-boy, "I shall never see the gray bird
again. And even if it were to come, what could it do to save us from
these cruel people?"

When the clock stood at five minutes to twelve, there was a confused
noise below, and Malefico and the judges who shared with him the guilt
of the unrighteous punishment took their places on a kind of platform
which overlooked the place of execution.

"They will soon be coming to get us," said the King to the bird-boy.

And sure enough, they heard the jangle of the jailer's keys at the foot
of the stair.

Suddenly the sunlight in the room faded swiftly into a strange gray
gloom, and the bird-boy rushed to the window to see if a storm was at
hand. A great shadowy cloud, advancing with inconceivable rapidity,
already filled half the sky, and as the boy gazed into this cloud, he
saw to his astonishment that it was not a cloud at all, but hundreds and
hundreds of thousands of great gray birds, flapping their long wings.
The shadow of the birds fell over the platform on which the cruel
Malefico sat waiting for the King and the bird-boy to be brought forth,
and then ceased moving even as a ship that has come into harbor.

Far ahead of the vast swarm flew one lonely bird, and suddenly this bird
uttered a shrill and piercing cry. Immediately every bird let fall a
great beach-stone which he held in his claws, and for a long minute, the
sky rained stones, round, polished stones that fell like bolts of
thunder. When the storm was over, and the cloud had begun to break into
rifts and speckles of light and flapping gray wings, the wicked Malefico
and his cruel nobles lay buried forever beneath mound upon mound of
stones. The doom which Malefico had intended for another had overtaken
him.

The King and the Queen, Rosabella and the bird-boy, rushed down the
stairs and out into the sunlight. As they did so, the gray bird who had
led the cloud, sank through the air and alighted at their feet. But
scarcely had the bird's claws touched the ground, when there was a flash
of flame, and the bird-boy's mother stood before them. She took her son
in her arms, and told them all his history and her misfortunes, and how
she had watched over him year after year and gathered the birds to save
him.

Thus it came to pass that, when the troops of Malefico saw their former
Queen and heard her story, they acclaimed the bird-boy as their rightful
king, and carried him back in triumph into his own country. So the
bird-boy became a king, married Rosabella, and lived happily ever after.