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The Hair Tree.
115

“You say you're the bird who charmed away the Queen’s hair. Well, if you'll tell me how she can grow it again I'll give you a nut.”

“What!” cried the bird, flapping his wings angrily, “tell you how the Queen can recover her hair? Never—I’d sooner never taste a nut again.”

“Very well,” said Rupert, picking up a golden nut, and holding it temptingly towards the bird. “Only tell me which way I ought to steer to find the country where the Hair Tree grows, and I will give you this.”

The bird sat silent, with his head on one side, watching Rupert for some time, and then with a sudden cry rose into the air and was out of sight almost before he knew it had moved.

At first he felt angry at this, but as it was gone, it was no use thinking about it, and, any- how, he had learnt that the golden nuts were very valuable, and he thought if it wanted them so much it might perhaps return for them.

He was right. All day and night he drifted about without coming in sight of land, but next morning at sunrise he saw, in the far distance, a dim line, and at the same moment he heard a

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