“He sat down, arranging the feathers on his breast, smoothing them with his beak, and all out of breath replied, ‘Horrors, I have escaped from the midst of a cloud of arrows which flew hissing about me. Brrrr...!’” Fiam paused, absorbed in his thoughts. Anxious to hear the rest, I said earnestly: “And who shot the arrows?” “Exactly the question I asked To. “‘Who? The men!’ replied To. ‘The valley is full of soldiers, who are fighting with bows and arrows, with lances and spears. There is war! They are killing each other; they pursue, they shout, they gallop on horseback; they are covered with shining armour. A great castle is burning, and all around the ground is covered with the dead. Listen,’ added To, as he scratched his head with one of his long claws, as he always did when he was thinking. ‘I must leave you. Don’t be offended if I don’t pass the night with you. I must go farther on. Not that I am afraid, you know, quite otherwise, but it is best to be careful. Lances and spears don’t frighten me, but arrows—you never know. Adieu, Mikara,’ and he drew in his claws and stretched his wings and swept away into the air just like an arrow himself, without giving me time to say good-bye. He said he wasn’t afraid, but really he was trembling. Never believe in the courage of any one who boasts of not being afraid.” “And weren’t you afraid?” I asked Fiam. “To tell the truth, I wasn’t any too brave. I kept thinking about the castle on fire. My father had often told me, when I was a little tree, that in war men burned the woods in order to drive out the enemy. If the war came near me and the woods were burned, poor me! You can imagine how anxiously I waited. I listened all night. When the wind blew I held my branches still so they wouldn’t make a noise. At midnight a cuckoo came. As he was a good friend I begged him to keep quiet. “‘I can’t,’ he said; ‘it is my duty to call “Cuckoo, cuckoo” a thousand times every night. That is my work. But if it will give you any pleasure I will go to another part of the mountain,’ and so he did. The night passed peacefully. The dawn came, and then....” “I beg of you, don’t stop. What happened at dawn?” “At dawn I heard some noises here and there. I raised my leaves to listen better and heard the sound of animals in flight. “I waited to see some of them and to ask questions, and pretty soon out of a hole came a family of boars; father, mother and two sons. I didn’t love wild boars; they are worthless and badly educated beasts that often came around to clean their tusks on my trunk, stripping off all my bark, but this time I forgot all about my hatred and tried to welcome them by holding out a branch. The father boar tore off some leaves and went on without even saying thank you, and all the family followed grunting. “By good luck, soon after, a roebuck came along. ‘What is happening?’ I whispered to him. He turned panting, and held up one ear, all anxiety, and replied: “‘They are coming here.’ “‘Who?’