“Let them go!” said the king, gruffly. And the hundred gulls were soon flying rapidly southward. For three days they flew straight as an arrow, until they came to scattered houses, to villages, and to cities. Then their search began. The gulls were brave, and cunning, and wise. Upon the fourth day they reached the great metropolis, and hovered over the streets until a carriage rolled along with a great white bear robe thrown over the back seat. Then the birds swooped down—the whole hundred of them—and seizing the skin in their beaks flew quickly away. They were late. The king’s great battle was upon the seventh day, and they must fly swiftly to reach the Polar regions by that time. Meanwhile the bird-bear was preparing for his fight. He sharpened his claws in the small crevasses of the ice. He caught a seal and tested his big yellow teeth by crunching its bones between them. And the queen gull set her band to pluming the king bear’s feathers until they lay smoothly upon his body. But every day they cast anxious glances into the southern sky, watching for the hundred gulls to bring back the king’s own skin. The seventh day came, and all the Polar bears in that region gathered around the king’s cavern. Among them was Woof, strong and confident of his success. “The bird-bear’s feathers will fly fast enough when I get my claws upon him!” he boasted; and the others laughed and encouraged him. The king was disappointed at not having recovered his skin, but he resolved to fight bravely without it. He advanced from the opening of his cavern with a proud and kingly bearing, and when he faced his enemy he gave so terrible a growl that Woof’s heart stopped beating for a moment, and he began to realize that a fight with the wise and mighty king of his race was no laughing matter. After exchanging one or two heavy blows with his foe Woof’s courage returned, and he determined to dishearten his adversary by bluster. “Come nearer, bird-bear!” he cried. “Come nearer, that I may pluck your plumage!” The defiance filled the king with rage. He ruffled his feathers as a bird does, till he appeared to be twice his actual size, and then he strode forward and struck Woof so powerful a blow that his skull crackled like an egg-shell and he fell prone upon the ground. While the assembled bears stood looking with fear and wonder at their fallen champion the sky became darkened. An hundred gulls flew down from above and dripped upon the king’s body a skin covered with pure white hair that glittered in the sun like silver. And behold! the bears saw before them the well-known form of their wise and respected master, and with one accord they bowed their shaggy heads in homage to the mighty King of the Polar Bears. This story teaches us that true dignity and courage depend not upon outward appearance, but come rather from within; also that brag and bluster are poor weapons to carry into battle. THE MANDARIN AND THE BUTTERFLY