WHAT THE PINK FLAMINGO DID.
The great pink flamingo roused from his resting-place among the sedgeswhen the noise began. At first he only stirred sleepily, and wondered,half awake, at the unusual sounds; but as they increased, curiositybegan to trouble him. Party after party in launches or bright-huedgondolas glided past, all gay and chattering, and full of excitementabout something, he did not know what. It was the first night on whichthe buildings and grounds of the Chicago Fair were illuminated, and theflamingo could not tell what to make of it, any more than could theherons and swans, the Muscovy ducks, the cranes, or any other of thewinged creatures which had learned to make themselves at home on thebanks of the lagoons.
The pink flamingo's name was Coco. He had been "raised" on the shore ofthe St. Johns River, in Florida, as the pet and _protege_ of CecilSchott, a boy who had taught him many tricks,--to catch fish and fetchthem out in his mouth, as a retriever fetches a bird, to eat caramels,to dive after objects thrown into the water and bring them up in hisbeak:--after Cecil himself even, so long as he was small enough to becounted as an "object." Often and often had Coco plunged into the deepriver, following the downward sweep of his little master, and seized himby the arm or foot before he was anywhere near the bottom. He would eatfrom Cecil's hand, also, and stand by his side, folding one wide wingacross the boy's shoulder, as though it were an arm. Cecil was growingup now, and had been sent to school; so when Mr. Schott heard that theChicago directors were making a collection of birds for the FairGrounds, he offered Coco, whose fearlessness and familiarity with humanbeings seemed peculiarly to adapt him for a public position.
When the fifth electrical launch had sped past the sedges, and strange,hovering lights began to burn in the sky, and ring the domes and roofsin the distance toward the south, Coco could endure it no longer, and,betaking himself to the water, started on a tour of investigation. Helooked very big in the dim light of the upper waterways,--almost as bigas the smaller of the gondolas. The people in the boats exclaimed withastonishment as he passed them, his broad wings raised above him, likerose-colored sails, and his stout legs beating the water into foambehind, like a propeller.
At first his course lay amid soft shadows. The upper part of the FairGrounds was not illuminated, and only a bird's keen vision could havemade out accustomed objects. But the flamingo had no difficulty inseeing. He knew exactly where to look for the nest of the female swan onthe wooded island. He could even make out her dim white shape in thegloom, and hear the disturbed flutter of her wings. There was theplantation of white hyacinths, and there the outline of the shabby old"Prairie Schooner," into which he had more than once poked hisinquisitive head. There stood the "Log Cabin," and beyond, the twinklinglanterns of the Japanese Tea Garden. The pink flamingo recognized themall. Under one graceful bridge after another, past one enormousbeautiful building after another, he swept, following the curves andturnings of the waterways, startled here and there by unaccustomedlights and the sounds of a hurrying crowd, till at last, with one boldsweep, he glided under the last arch and out into the broad basin of theCourt of Honor.
He had been there before. Catch the pink flamingo leaving any part ofthe Fair Grounds unexplored! He was not that sort of bird. He had evenbeen there in the evening, when the moon shone clearly on the water,with only a point of light here and there on the surrounding shores, andno sounds to break the stillness but the plash of waves washing in fromthe lake, and the low talk of little groups of late-stayers, sitting onthe steps before the Liberal Arts Building, looking across to thefountain and the dim row of sculptured forms on the summit of thePeristyle. But now all was different. The gilded dome of theAdministration Building was ringed with lines of fire. The facade of theAgricultural blazed with lights, which shone on the bas-reliefs andsculptures, on the winged Diana above, and the great bulls which guardthe approach to the boat-landing. Every figure which topped the longdouble lines of the Peristyle stood out distinctly against thetransparent sky; the gilding of the broad arch toward the lake glowedruddy in the light, and so did the majestic figure of the Republic, itsnoble outline reflected in the shimmering waters beneath. The greatfountain opposite caught the blaze, and sent its smooth shoots over thebasin edges with a white phosphorescent radiance. Then a wide beam froma search-light swept across, and seemed to turn the figures into life;made the form of the Discoverer and the beautiful figures of the rowingwomen on either side, throb and pulsate, fluctuating with thefluctuating ray, till they seemed to bend and move. On either side, theelectrical fountains lifted high in air great sheaves of iridescentcolors, scarlet, green, and blue, like a flag of upheaving jewels, whilethe faces of the immense throng along the esplanades and on the dome ofthe Administration Building changed from gloom to glory and back againto gloom as the dancing ray wandered to and fro.
It was a scene from fairyland; but it did not altogether please Coco,who, startled and affrighted, made a dive, and disappeared under waterby way of a relief to his feelings. Then he came up again, and, growingby degrees accustomed to these novel splendors, he recovered confidence,and began to look about him.
"Oh, what a beautiful bird!" he heard some one say; and though he didnot understand the words, he knew well enough that he was being admired,and thereupon proceeded to make himself a part of the show. He splashed,dived, extended his wide wings, curved his long neck, and generallyexhibited himself to the best of his ability, all the time maintainingan absent-minded air, as if he were not aware that any one else waspresent. Coco was very conceited for a bird.
Meanwhile, at about the same moment in which the pink flamingo wasroused from his slumbers, a small Turkish boy named Hassan awoke fromhis, in the retirement of the Midway Plaisance. He had not been at alla good little Turk since he came to America, his parents thought.Something in the air of freedom had apparently demoralized him. It mightbe that domestic discipline had been relaxed since their arrival, forthere had been much to do in getting the Turkish Bazaar and the Mosqueand the Village ready; but certain it is that Hassan had been naughtierand given more trouble during the past ten weeks than in all theprevious years of his short life. Once, in a great rain-storm, he hadactually run away, slipping past the guard at the gate, and tearingwildly down the street. Where he was going, he did not know or care; allhe wanted was to run. How far he might have gone, or what would havebecome of him in the end, no one can say, had his father not caught aglimpse of the small fleeting figure.
"Beard of the Prophet!" ejaculated the scandalized Mustapha. "That sonof Sheitan, the enemy of true believers, will be run over by the horsesof the infidel if I do not overtake him speedily."
He tucked up his blue robe, which almost touched the muddy ground, itwas so long, revealing, as he did so, yellow boots topped with Americansocks, and, above these, a pair of green drawers, and started inpursuit. Alas! the guard at the turnstile stopped him, and demanded hispass. In vain Mustapha remonstrated, and explained, in fluent Turkish,that his sole object was to capture his evil child, who had escaped fromhome. The guard did not understand the language of Turkey, andpersisted, explaining, in the tongue of Chicago, that he was actingunder orders, and that no "foreigner" could go in or out without properauthority.
"Permit! Permit! Pass! Pass! You must show your pass!" cried the guard."_Backsheesh_, you know."
It was his sole Turkish word. He had learned it since the Fair openedfrom hearing it so often.
"You bet!" responded Mustapha. It was his sole English word. "TheProphet visit you with a murrain and total baldness!" he continued, inhis own vernacular. Then, seeing that Hassan, who was having a mostenjoyable time, was nearing a corner and about to disappear, he uttereda wild shout of despair, and, thrusting the guard aside, darted throughthe gate and after the child. His long petticoat waggled in the wind,and blew behind him like a wet umbrella broken loose. The guard was soconvulsed with laughter that he could only stand still and hold hissides. Two chairmen, who had trundled two ladies down the Plaisance tothe gate, were as much convulsed as he.
Little Hassan ran for all he wasworth. His gown of drab cotton, as long, in proportion, as his father's,switched and fluttered as he flew along. But longer legs always havethe advantage over shorter ones in a race. The pursuer gained on thepursued. When Hassan saw that there was no hope, and he was bound to beovertaken, he just flung himself down in a mud-puddle and kicked andscreamed. His exasperated parent pulled him up, and, with a shake, sethim on his feet. Hassan made his legs limp, and refused to walk; soMustapha tucked him under his arm, and strode back toward the Plaisance.The guard was still too doubled up with laughter for speech, so he lethim pass unscolded. Once safely inside, Mustapha shifted his wet anddirty little burden on to its feet, whirled aside the drab skirt, and,with trenchant slaps, administered a brief but effectual Americanspanking. He then conducted Hassan to his veiled mother in herretirement, and intimated his pleasure that he should be made to undergoa further penance.
It was this same naughty little Turk who woke up at the same time withthe pink flamingo. He heard music and shouts, and saw the same strangeglow toward the southward which had startled the bird from its rest. Hisfather and mother had joined the motley throng of foreign folk of allnationalities, garbs, and shades of complexion,--Arabs, Javanese,Alaskans, Eskimos, South Sea Islanders, Cossacks, American Indians, andEast Indians, Chinese, and Dahomyans,--who had flocked out of thePlaisance to see the spectacle. No one was left behind but the sleepingchildren, and here was Hassan, no longer asleep, but very wide awakeindeed.
Down the esplanade sped the little figure.--PAGE 191.]
No time did he lose in hesitation; he knew in a moment what he wanted todo. His queer little clothes were close at hand,--the drab gown, stillmud-stained from his run, the yellow slippers, the small fez for hishead. Into them he skipped, and, stepping out of the door, he ran downthe Plaisance, keeping on the shaded side as far as might be, for fearof being stopped. He need not have been afraid; there was no one to stophim. The great Woman's Building came in sight, with the outlines of thestill larger Horticultural beyond. Down the esplanade sped the littlefigure. The light grew more brilliant with every turn; more and morepeople passed him, but all were pressing southward. And in a crowd likethis, nobody had time to notice the advent of such a very small Turkamong them. Hot and breathless after his long run, Hassan at lastemerged, as the pink flamingo had done, on the Court of Honor.
Here his smallness proved an advantage to him, for he could crowdhimself into minute spaces in the living mass where a grown person couldnot go, squeeze between people's legs, and wriggle and twist, all thetime pressing steadily forward, till at last he gained the parapet, and,climbing up, seated himself comfortably on the top. Then his eyes andmouth opened simultaneously into an "Ahi!" of wonder, for close beforehim was one of the electrical fountains, shooting blue and crimsonfires, and a little beyond shone the pulsating radiance of the dazzlingforms grouped above the Discoverer, the rearing horses, the winged shapein the bow of the boat. Never before had anything so wonderful been seenby our little Turk. The great basin twinkled with reflected lights, likea starry sky set upside down; overhead the statues glittered; a roundsilver moon hung above, and broad rays, like her own beams intensifiedand set into motion, wandered to and fro from the search-light opposite,darting now on a splendid facade, now on a towering dome, again on abridge packed with people, whose expectant faces were all turnedskyward, and, finally, on a great pink bird which was wheeling andturning in the water.
There was a sudden small splash.
"Oh, oh!" shrieked a child's voice, in tones of distress, "my dolly'sfallen in! Mamma, Mamma, that was my dolly that fell in. She'll be alldrowned! Oh, my dolly!" Then the voice changed to one of amazement andjoy: "Oh, Mamma, see that bird! He has got her!"
Coco had spied the doll as it fell, and, true to his early training,dived after it as a matter of course, and came up with the doll in hisbill.
"Oh, you good birdie! you dear birdie!" cried the little one, stretchingher arms over the parapet. "Let me have Dolly again, please, dearbirdie!"
Coco understood only Flamingo, and had no idea what the little girl wassaying; but as a nibble or two had showed that the doll was not edible,he made no resistance when a gentleman reached over from the edge of agondola and took it from his beak. It was handed back to its littleowner amid a great clapping and laughing, and Coco was given an Albertbiscuit instead, which he liked much better, and speedily disposed of.He knew that the applause was meant for him, and, puffed up with pride,sailed vain-gloriously to and fro, waiting another chance to distinguishhimself.
It came! There was another and much louder splash as a small red-cappedfigure toppled over into the water. It was Hassan, who, leaning over towatch the wonderful bird, had lost his balance.
No one laughed this time, and there was a general cry of "Oh, it was achild! A child has fallen in! Save him, some one!" People shouted for"a boat;" men pulled off their coats, making ready for a plunge; womenbegan to cry; then, all at once, there was a general exclamation ofastonishment and admiration.
"The bird has got him" cried a hundred voices.
It was again Coco! To dive after Hassan, to seize the drab skirt in hisbeak, and bring the child again to the surface of the water, was an easyfeat to him; but to the excited multitudes upon the banks it seemedwell-nigh a miracle.
"Never saw such a thing in my life!" declared a man on the bridge."Don't tell me that bird hasn't an intellect. No, sir! There ain't a manhere could have done that better, nor so well as that there pelican. Heis smart enough to vote, he is!"
"Too smart," remarked his next neighbor. "He'd never stick to theregular ticket; he'd have a mind of his own. That ain't the sort we wantover here. We want voters that don't have independent ideas, but just doas the boss tells 'em."
"That's pretty true, I reckon," replied the first man.
Meanwhile, Hassan was safe on shore. It had been for only one momentthat the flamingo had needed to support his burden; then it was liftedfrom him by a man in a boat, who took time to tell him that he was a"first-rate fellow, a famous fellow, and ought to have a medal from theHumane Society."
"He _shall_ have one!" declared an enthusiastic lady in the crowd. "Iwill see to it myself." And the next morning she bought a souvenirhalf-dollar, had "For a Brave Bird" engraved upon it, and a hole boredin its rim, through which she ran a pink ribbon. This she carried overto the Wooded Island, and, with the assistance of two Columbian guards,captured Coco, and tied the ribbon firmly round his neck. He resistedstrenuously, and spent much time in trying to peck the decoration off;but as time went on, and he became accustomed to it, and found thatwherever he went it made him conspicuous, and that the other birdsenvied him the notice he attracted, he rather learned to like his"medal;" and he wore it to the very end of the Columbian Exposition.
Meanwhile, as Fate willed it, the dripping Hassan was handed ashoreprecisely at that point of the esplanade where stood his father andmother! They had not seen the accident, nor understood that it was a boywho had fallen in and been rescued by a bird; so when a wet littleobject was set to drip almost at their feet, and they recognized in ittheir own offspring, whom they supposed to be safely asleep at home, itwill be easily imagined that their wrath and astonishment knew nobounds.
"Ahi! child of sin, contaminated by the unbeliever, is it indeed thou?"cried the irate Mustapha. "What djinnee, what imp of Eblis hath broughtthee here?"
"He hath been in the water, Allah preserve us!" cried the moretender-hearted mother. "He might have been drowned."
"In the water! Nay, then; wherefore is he not in bed where we left him?We will see if this imp of evil be not taught to avoid the water in thefuture. On my head be it if he is not, Inshallah!"
So the weeping Hassan was led home by his family, his garments leaving atrail of drip on the concrete all the way up the long distance; and inthe seclusion of the temporary harem he was caused to see the error ofhis way.
"Thou shalt be made to remember," declared his irate parent in thepauses of d
iscipline. "I will not have thee as the sons of theseinfidels who despise correction, saying 'I will' and 'I will not,' andare as a blemish and a darkening to the faces of their parents. TheProphet rebuke me if I do! Inshallah!"
But Coco, when the lights were put out and the great crowd streamedaway, leaving the Fair Grounds to silence and loneliness, and thelagoons became again a soft land of shadows broken by reaches ofmoonlight, sailed back to his perch among the sedges with a calm andsatisfied mind. He had a right to be pleased with himself. Had he notsaved two "people," one very small and hard, and the other very big andsoft? Nothing whispered of that dreadful half-dollar which was coming onthe morrow to vex his spirit. No one said to _him_ "Inshallah." Hetucked his head under his wing and went to sleep, a peaceful andcontented flamingo; and the moral is, "Be virtuous and you will behappy."