5: _In Which the Scientist Arrives in Pursuit of the Phoenix, andThere Are Alarums and Excursions by Night_

  The lights downstairs were all on when David got home, and as soon ashe opened the front door he could tell that they had company.

  He shouted, "I'm home!" and sneezed. The dust from the Gryffons' cavestill clung to him, tickling his nose.

  "Well, here he is at last," said Dad's voice. "Come on in, David."Then, as David walked into the living room, "Good heavens, Son, what'shappened to you?"

  "Your _back_, David!" Mother said in a horrified voice. "Your poorback! What _happened_ to you?"

  David felt himself. The back of his shirt was ripped to tatters, andthere were three lines of caked blood across his shoulders. Heremembered now: it was the Gryffon that had tried to grab him as heand the Phoenix made their escape. But he had promised the Phoenix tokeep its secret.

  He stammered, "I--I had an accident."

  "And dust all _over_ you!" Mother went on.

  "Well," said David desperately, "it was a _dusty_ accident."

  "It seems to have been very dusty indeed," said a third voice. Therewas a loud sneeze.

  David's father jumped up. "You gave me such a shock when you came inthat I almost forgot, David. We have a guest." And he introduced Davidto a very tall, thin man with a bald head. His face and neck wereburnt red by the sun, and he had on a pair of thick glasses which madehis pale eyes look immense. For some reason David took an instantdislike to him, but he shook hands politely and said, "How do you do?"

  "David, eh?" said the man. "Well, well. Are you a good boy, David?"

  Of all the stupid questions in the world, that was the one David hatedmost. He clenched his teeth and looked the other way.

  "David, dear," said Mother with an awkward laugh, "I think you'dbetter go upstairs and wash and change."

  When David came into the living room again, the guest was talkingexcitedly. "... completely unknown to man," he was saying. "It's thediscovery of the age. My name will be famous if I succeed in myplans."

  "How fascinating!" Mother said. "And to think of it happening righthere!"

  "And it's huge," the guest said, "simply huge. And brilliantlycolored. For a scientist like myself, it's more than fascinating."

  David was listening now. Scientist? _Scientist!_ His heart missed abeat, and he choked. Oh, no, it couldn't be _the_ Scientist. _Or couldit?_

  "David here spends all his time up on the mountain," his father said."Maybe he's seen it."

  The guest turned his big, pale, unpleasant eyes on David. "Well,David," he said, "maybe you can help me. Now, have you seen anythingunusual on the mountain?"

  "Unusual?" said David unsteadily. There was a pain in his chest fromthe pounding of his heart.

  "Yes, David," the guest went on, "unusual. So unusual that youcouldn't miss it: a very large bird with bright plumage."

  The floor under David seemed to rock. It was true, then--it washorribly true. This was the Scientist who had been chasing thePhoenix. This was their enemy.

  "Bird?" David dodged. "Wh-wh-why, there are lots of birds up there.Sparrows and meadow larks and--and sparrows...."

  "But nothing like a huge bird with bright feathers?"

  Well, he would have to tell a lie. After all, it was for the Phoenix'ssake.

  "No," said David.

  "Ah," said the Scientist. But his cold eyes bored into David's foranother instant, plainly saying, "I'm not fooled, young man."

  "It's odd," he continued, "that no one has seen it. But I have nodoubt it's somewhere here. I am going to begin my search as soon as myequipment gets here."

  "Tell us about it," said Mother politely.

  "Well, I discovered it on the other side of the valley, you know,"said the Scientist eagerly. "Quite by accident--I was really lookingfor another species. Now, birds, you know, have fixed habits. If youknow those habits, you can predict just what they will do at any time.This particular bird was a daytime creature, so I tried to watch itbetween dawn and dusk. But it seemed to have a mind of its own--youmight almost say an intelligence. It avoided me in a very clever way,and it avoided my traps also. Uncanny! So after several weeks Idecided to shoot it if I got the chance. Then suddenly it disappeared,but I'm certain it came over to this side of the valley--"

  There was no escape from the subject during dinner. The Scientistcould think and talk of nothing else. He described the merits ofdeadfalls, snares, steel traps, and birdlime. He asked which theythought would make the best bait, a rabbit, a beefsteak, a live lamb,or carrion. He told them all about the new high-powered, long-rangerifle which he had ordered. And he vowed to them all that he would notrest until the bird was either caught or killed "for the advancementof human learning."

  David listened with horror. The dinner before him went untouched. Hisonly thought was that now he would have to warn the Phoenix as soon aspossible. The Phoenix would go to South America after all, and hiseducation would end before it had even started. All because of thishateful man! He fought to hold back his tears.

  Dinner was over at last. David mumbled his excuses and ducked out ofthe dining room, but Aunt Amy seized him firmly just as he thought hehad got away.

  "Bedtime for you, David," she said firmly.

  "Oh, Aunt Amy, please! I've got to--"

  "Upstairs, young man. You've had enough gallivanting around for oneday. You're all worn out."

  "I'm _not_!" said David, struggling. "I feel fine. Look, I just _have_to--"

  It was useless. She marched him upstairs to his room and stood in thedoorway until he had undressed and put on his pajamas and got intobed.

  "Now," she said, "you go to sleep. The mountain will still be there inthe morning--unless there's a landslide. Good night." And she turnedout the light and shut the door.

  This was awful! He could not sneak downstairs, because the stairscould be seen from the living room. He could not climb out of hiswindow, because a rose arbor was directly beneath it, and he would beripped by the thorns. And Mother always came in to say good nightbefore she went to bed. If he was not there when she came in tonight,there would be a lot of unpleasant explaining to do. The only thing,then, was to wait until the Scientist went home and everyone was inbed.

  It was a maddening wait. The Scientist's voice went on and on like thedrone of an electric fan, interrupted only by an occasional murmurfrom Mother or Dad. For a while David sat in bed twisting the sheetsin his hands; then he got up and paced the room in his bare feet. Itseemed to him that three or four whole nighttimes had passed before hefinally heard all three voices raised and talking at once.

  The Scientist was going! Now they were saying good-by at the frontdoor ... now the door was being closed ... now there were footsteps onthe stairs. He jumped into bed just before Mother put her head in andsaid, "Good night, dear." David murmured, pretending to be halfasleep. His door closed again. The light switches snapped, and therewas silence.

  He waited another half hour to make sure everyone was asleep. Asquickly and silently as he could, he pulled on his clothes, crept outof his room, and slid cautiously down the bannister. In the back yardhe put on his shoes, dived through the hedge, and started to race upthe mountainside.

  Fortunately there was a nearly-full moon and no clouds in the sky. Buteven with this light, it was not easy to keep to the trail. Severaltimes he lost his way, so that the trip took much longer than usual.But he found the ledge at last, climbed over the final difficult rock,and sat down to catch his breath. When he could speak, he calledsoftly:

  "Phoenix!"

  There was no answer.

  "Phoenix!" He pushed through the thicket to the other side of theledge. "_Phoenix!_"

  The Phoenix was gone.

  The tears that had been stopped up all evening could be held nolonger. David dropped to the ground, leaned his forehead against arock, and let them go. He had just remembered. As soon as they hadcome back from the Gryffon adventure, the Phoenix had flown off onsome sort of business. And it
had not said when it would return.

  The tears cleared David's mind and made him feel better. Now what? Hebegan to think. If he stayed on the ledge all night, they might findout at home and make a terrible fuss. But if he did not warn thePhoenix before morning, the Scientist might creep up while the birdwas resting and trap it or shoot it. So he would have to warn thePhoenix _and_ return home. And the only way to do both these thingswas to write the Phoenix a note.

  But he had neither paper nor pencil.

  A fine mess he had made of everything! Now he would have to go all theway back home, write the note, come all the way back up to the ledge,and then go home again.

  David trudged down the mountainside in a very low mood. Now that hehad a definite plan to work on, his fear was gone, but he felt that hehad been pretty stupid to rush off without thinking of everythingfirst. In his mind he could hear the Phoenix saying, "Look before youleap, my boy," and other wise words of advice. And he had cried, too.Lucky that no one had been there to see _that_.

  * * * * *

  As he approached the house he was surprised to see all the lightsablaze and to hear his name being called. "Oh-oh," he thought,"they've found out I've gone."

  "Here I am!" he shouted, opening the door. "What's the matter?"

  It was a strange sight which met him inside. Dad, in his gray pajamas,was waving a revolver and making fierce noises. Mother, lookingfrightened, had a shoe in one hand. Aunt Amy, with her hair in rags,was also well-armed--with a big cast-iron frying pan. Beckie washowling upstairs.

  "David!" Mother cried. "Are you all right? Where have you been? Did hehurt you?"

  "Who?" said David. "I'm all right. What's the matter?"

  "The burglar!" said Mother excitedly. "He put his head in the windowand said '_pssssst!_'"

  "I tell you, burglars don't say _pssssst_!" Dad said. "They try tomake as little noise as possible. Just let me catch him doing itagain!" he added, waving his pistol.

  "Running around on that mountain at all hours of the night," Aunt Amygrumbled, "with burglars and I don't know what-all loose in town!"

  "And then we found that you were gone, and we thought he had stolenyou," Mother went on. "Where have you been?"

  "I couldn't sleep," said David. "So I went for a walk."

  "Well, thank heavens you're safe," said Mother.

  "Hankering after that mountain all night," Aunt Amy muttered. "As ifhe wasn't up there all day."

  "Look here, Son," said Dad. "What do you know about this?"

  "Honestly, Dad," said David, "I couldn't sleep. There's nothing wrongwith that. I can't help it if I can't sleep. So I took a walk. There'snothing wrong with--"

  "Oh, all right, all right," his father said. "I suppose it's just acoincidence. Let's all get back to sleep. And, David, the next timeyou can't sleep, try counting sheep."

  Gradually the house calmed down. Beckie stopped wailing, Dad put awayhis gun, good nights were said, the lights were turned off.

  David knew that it would be at least an hour before he dared to moveagain, and he would have to be doubly careful this time. And he was alittle nervous himself now about that burglar. What if he should meethim when he went out again? He tried to forget about that by thinkingof what he would put in the note for the Phoenix.

  He had got as far as "Dear Phoenix:" and was wondering how you spelled"Phoenix," when there came a swish and a thump at his window, followedby a cautious whisper:

  "_Pssssst!_"

  David felt his scalp prickle. "Wh-wh-who's that?" he quavered.

  "Is that you, my boy?" whispered a familiar, guarded voice. "Ah, thankheavens!"

  And the Phoenix crawled through the window.

  Weak with relief, David snapped on the bedside light. The Phoenixpresented a shocking sight. Its face was drawn with fatigue, and itlooked rather draggled. Its back sagged, its wings drooped to thefloor, and it walked with a limp.

  "Oh, Phoenix, Phoenix!" David whispered. He jumped to support the birdbefore it collapsed entirely.

  "Ah, thank you, my boy," the Phoenix murmured. "Your bed, I presume?May I? Thank you." The springs creaked under its weight as the Phoenixgingerly lay down.

  "What a night, my boy, _what_ a night!" it sighed weakly, closing itseyes.

  "Oh, Phoenix, what happened? Can I do anything for you?" Davidwhispered.

  "A damp, cooling cloth upon my forehead would be welcome, my boy,"murmured the Phoenix. "Also a bit of nourishment."

  David slid down the bannister, got a handful of cookies and a glass ofmilk, and dampened a dish towel. When he returned, the Phoenix wasfast asleep.

  "Phoenix," he whispered, "wake up. Here's your--"

  The Phoenix awoke with a violent start and stared wildly around theroom. "Trapped!" it muttered, making a frenzied effort to get off thebed.

  "Not so _loud_!" David whispered sharply. "It's me!"

  Understanding dawned in the Phoenix's eyes, and it eased itself backwith a sigh. "Ah, you, my boy. You gave me quite a fright. Ithought--" But here the Phoenix caught sight of the milk and cookiesand sat up again.

  "Ambrosia," it sighed reverently. "And nectar. You _are_ a prince, mydear fellow!" And the Phoenix reached out eagerly.

  "Now, Phoenix," David whispered as he wrapped the wet towel around thePhoenix's head, "what's happened?"

  "Ah, that feels heavenly, my boy! (Munch munch.) What has happened?(Munch munch. Gulp.) I was insulted, I accepted a challenge, and Ibrilliantly maintained my honor. Let that be a lesson to you, my boy:death before dishonor. Yes, in spite of my age, I--"

  "But Phoenix, what _happened_?"

  "To be brief, then, my boy, for brevity is the soul of wit--although I amnot trying to be witty now; I am simply too worn out--Brevity--ah--wherewas I?"

  "I _think_ you were telling me what happened to you tonight," Davidsaid.

  "Ah, yes, quite so! Well, I raced the Witch, to put it quite simply."

  "Oh, Phoenix! Did you win?"

  "She said that she would 'beat my tail feathers off,' did she not?Behold, my dear fellow--every tail feather intact!"

  "Good for you, Phoenix! How did it go?"

  "I found her somewhere over Scotland and accepted her challenge. Wejockeyed about for starting positions, and she insulted me by offeringme a handicap--which, of course, I refused. For several hundred milesit was nip and tuck, as it were. Then, over Luxembourg, I put all myenergies into a magnificent sprint and won the race by three and ahalf broom lengths. She claimed a foul and went off in a fit of sulks,of course. (I never saw a Witch who was a good loser.) And I--well,the fact is, my boy, that I am not as young as I used to be. I simply_crawled_ home."

  "Oh, you poor Phoenix! But you won, though. Good for you, Phoenix.I'm proud of you! I didn't like her at all."

  "There you are--I had to win, for both of us. Now, as I wended myweary way homeward, I realized that I should be too tired to gotraveling tomorrow. So I decided to tell you, in case you should wantto do something else during the day. But I did not know which housewas yours. I had to pick one at random. I thrust my head in a windowand uttered a cautious _pssssst_! Imagine my dismay when I wasanswered by a piercing scream! I had to beat a hasty and undignifiedretreat into a garage until all was peaceful again. Then I did thesame thing at the next house, and the next, with the same results."The Phoenix sighed. "Would you believe it, my boy?--this is the fifthhouse I tried. But I knew I was on the right track when I heard themcalling for you."

  "Oh, so it was _you_," said David. "You almost frightened Mother todeath. She thought you were a burglar."

  "My dear fellow, I am really sorry for having caused anymisunderstanding or fright," said the Phoenix apologetically. "It wasjust that I wanted to tell you of my victory--that is, to tell youthat I should be indisposed tomorrow."

  Then David recalled that he had something to say too. The shock ofremembering was such that he blurted out the news without thinking ofsoftening the blow.

  "Phoenix, listen! The Scientis
t is here!"

  The Phoenix sat up in bed with a jerk, and David barely suppressed itsstartled exclamation by clamping a hand over its beak.

  "It's not so bad yet," he whispered hurriedly, "because he's not surewhere you are, and he has to wait for his equipment to get here. But,oh, Phoenix, now I suppose you'll go to South America after all, and Iwon't have any more education."

  The Phoenix leaped to its feet and struck a defiant pose. "My boy," itsaid angrily, "you are mistaken. I refuse to be chased around anylonger. Even the lowly worm turns. Am I a mouse, or am I the Phoenix?If that insufferable man wishes to pursue me further, if he cannotmind his own business, then, by Jove, we shall meet him face to faceand FIGHT TO THE FINISH!"

  Its voice, which had been getting louder and louder, ended in anindignant squawk (its battle cry, as it explained later). David'swarning _ssh!_ was too late. They heard rapid footsteps and the soundof light switches snapping.

  "Quick!" David said. "Out the window!"

  With a hasty "Farewell, my boy," the Phoenix plunged headlong towardthe window--and tripped over the sill. There was a resounding crashoutside as the bird landed on the rose arbor, a brief but furiousthrashing and muttering, and then the receding flurry of wings.

  Dad burst into the room with his revolver, followed by Mother and AuntAmy (with two frying pans, this time).

  "He stuck his head in the window and said _pssssst!_ at me!" Davidcried. "A big dark shape in the window!"

  This time Dad telephoned the police. In no time at all, three carloadsof weary policemen were swarming over the house and yard, with gunsand flashlights drawn. It was the fifth--or was it the sixth?--callthey had received from the neighborhood that night, they explained.There followed an hour of questions, arguments, and theories, duringwhich everyone became very excited. Everyone, that is, exceptDavid--although he acted excited to avoid suspicion. But he was happy.He had warned the Phoenix, the Phoenix was going to stay, and therewas nothing to worry about until tomorrow.

 
Edward Ormondroyd's Novels