adition. Please, my boy, do not
take on so! It is not in the least horrible, I assure you. My Instinct
tells me so."

"You said you were going to give me an education," David sobbed. "You
said we would see--you said--and we've only been on four
adventures--you never told me about this--"

"I am terribly sorry, my boy. I could not tell you about it because I
did not _know_ about it until now. As for your education, it is a pity
to have it cut short in this way. I had great plans.... But
consider--you have had four adventures which no one else in the whole
world has had! And besides, my boy, we shall see each other again. I
do not know how or where, but I am positive of it." The Phoenix
flicked a tear from its eye with the tip of one wing, while with the
other it patted David awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Don't go, Phoenix, _please_ don't go."

"I must, my boy. Here, permit me to present you with a small token
(ouch!) of our friendship."

Dimly, through his tears, David saw the Phoenix pluck the longest,
bluest feather from its tail, and he felt it being pressed into his
hand.

"Good-by, David," said the Phoenix gruffly.

David could stand it no longer. He turned and rushed blindly from the
Phoenix, blundered into the thicket, and dropped to the ground with
his head buried in his arms. Behind him he heard the sticks snapping
as the Phoenix mounted its pyre. A match rasped against the box. The
first tongue of flame sizzled in the branches. David pressed his hands
over his ears to shut out the sound, but he could feel the heat of the
flames as they sprang up. And the noise would not be shut out. It grew
and grew, popping, crackling, roaring, until it seemed to fill the
world....

* * * * *

Perhaps he fainted. Or perhaps from numbness he slipped into a kind of
deep sleep. Whichever it was, he returned to consciousness again
suddenly. His hands had slipped from his ears, and a sound had brought
him back. He lifted his head and listened. The fire had burnt itself
out now. The only noise was the hiss and pop of dying embers. But
these sounds were too gentle to have awakened him--it must have been
something else. Yes--it was a voice. He could hear it quite plainly
now. There were angry shouts coming from somewhere below the ledge.

Carefully avoiding the sight of the pyre, David crawled to the edge
and glanced over. Far down, on the slope at the foot of the scarp, was
a tiny figure da