'I am sorry to hear you speak of your kind master in such a way,' said the boy gravely. 'All men are deserving of respect, being the highest of living creatures, and Kings deserve respect more than others, for they are set to rule over many people.'
'Nevertheless,' said Bilbil with conviction, 'Rinkitink's head is certainly empty of brains.'
'That I am unwilling to believe,' insisted Inga. 'But anyway his heart is kind and gentle and that is better than being wise. He is merry in spite of misfortunes that would cause others to weep and he never speaks harsh words that wound the feelings of his friends.'
'Still,' growled Bilbil, 'he is – '
'Let us forget everything but his good nature, which puts new heart into us when we are sad,' advised the boy.
'But he is – '
'Come with me, please,' interrupted Inga, 'for the matter of which I wish to speak is very important.'
Bilbil followed him, although the boy still heard the goat muttering that the King had no brains. Rinkitink, seeing them turn into the ruins, also followed, and upon joining them asked for his breakfast.
Inga opened the sack of food and while he and the King ate of it the boy said:
'If I could find a way to remove some of the blocks of marble which have fallen in the banquet hall, I think I could find means for us to escape from this barren island.'
'Then,' mumbled Rinkitink, with his mouth full, 'let us move the blocks of marble.'
'But how?' inquired Prince Inga. 'They are very heavy.'
'Ah, how, indeed?' returned the King, smacking his lips contentedly. 'That is a serious question. But – I have it! Let us see what my famous parchment says about it.' He wiped his fingers upon a napkin and then, taking the scroll from a pocket inside his embroidered blouse, he unrolled it and read the following words: 'Never step on another man's toes.'
The goat gave a snort of contempt; Inga was silent; the King looked from one to the other inquiringly.
'That's the idea, exactly!' declared Rinkitink.
'To be sure,' said Bilbil scornfully, 'it tells us exactly how to move the blocks of marble.'
'Oh, does it?' responded the King, and then for a moment he rubbed the top of his bald head in a perplexed manner. The next moment he burst into a peal of joyous laughter. The goat looked at Inga and sighed.
'What did I tell you?' asked the creature. 'Was I right, or was I wrong?'
'This scroll,' said Rinkitink, 'is indeed a masterpiece. Its advice is of tremendous value. 'Never step on another man's toes.' Let us think this over. The inference is that we should step upon our own toes, which were given us for that purpose. Therefore, if I stepped upon another man's toes, I would be the other man. Hoo, hoo, hoo! – the other man – hee, hee, heek– keek-eek! Funny, isn't it?'
'Didn't I say – ' began Bilbil.
'No matter what you said, my boy,' roared the King. 'No fool could have figured that out as nicely as I did.'
'We have still to decide how to remove the blocks of marble,' suggested Inga anxiously.
'Fasten a rope to them, and pull,' said Bilbil.
'Don't pay any more attention to Rinkitink, for he is no wiser than the man who wrote that brainless scroll. Just get the rope, and we'll fasten Rinkitink to one end of it for a weight and I'll help you pull.'
'Thank you, Bilbil,' replied the boy. 'I'll get the rope at once.'
Bilbil found it difficult to climb over the ruins to the floor of the banquet hall, but there are few places a goat cannot get to when it makes the attempt, so Bilbil succeeded at last, and even fat little Rinkitink finally joined them, though much out of breath.
Inga fastened one end of the rope around a block of marble and then made a loop at the other end to go over Bilbil's head. When all was ready the boy seized the rope and helped the goat to pull; yet, strain as they might, the huge block would not stir from its place. Seeing this, King Rinkitink came forward and lent his assistance, the weight of his body forcing the heavy marble to slide several feet from where it had lain.
But it was hard work and all were obliged to take a long rest before undertaking the removal of the next block.
'Admit, Bilbil,' said the King, 'that I am of some use in the world.'
'Your weight was of considerable help,' acknowledged the goat, 'but if your head were as well filled as your stomach the task would be still easier.'
When Inga went to fasten the rope a second time he was rejoiced to discover that by moving one more block of marble he could uncover the tile with the secret spring. So the three pulled with renewed energy and to their joy the block moved and rolled upon its side, leaving Inga free to remove the treasure when he pleased.
But the boy had no intention of allowing Bilbil and the King to share the secret of the royal treasures of Pingaree; so, although both the goat and its master demanded to know why the marble blocks had been moved, and how it would benefit them, Inga begged them to wait until the next morning, when he hoped to be able to satisfy them that their hard work had not been in vain.
Having little confidence in this promise of a mere boy, the goat grumbled and the King laughed; but Inga paid no heed to their ridicule and set himself to work rigging up a fishing rod, with line and hook. During the afternoon he waded out to some rocks near the shore and fished patiently until he had captured enough yellow perch for their supper and breakfast.
'Ah,' said Rinkitink, looking at the fine catch when Inga returned to the shore; 'these will taste delicious when they are cooked; but do you know how to cook them?'
'No,' was the reply. 'I have often caught fish, but never cooked them. Perhaps Your Majesty understands cooking.'
'Cooking and majesty are two different things,' laughed the little King. 'I could not cook a fish to save me from starvation.'
'For my part,' said Bilbil, 'I never eat fish, but I can tell you how to cook them, for I have often watched the palace cooks at their work.' And so, with the goat's assistance, the boy and the King managed to prepare the fish and cook them, after which they were eaten with good appetite.
That night, after Rinkitink and Bilbil were both fast asleep, Inga stole quietly through the moonlight to the desolate banquet hall. There, kneeling down, he touched the secret spring as his father had instructed him to do and to his joy the tile sank downward and disclosed the opening. You may imagine how the boy's heart throbbed with excitement as he slowly thrust his hand into the cavity and felt around to see if the precious pearls were still there. In a moment his fingers touched the silken bag and, without pausing to close the recess, he pressed the treasure against his breast and ran out into the moonlight to examine it. When he reached a bright place he started to open the bag, but he observed Bilbil lying asleep upon the grass near by. So, trembling with the fear of discovery, he ran to another place, and when he paused he heard Rinkitink snoring lustily. Again he fled and made his way to the seashore, where he squatted under a bank and began to untie the cords that fastened the mouth of the bag. But now another fear assailed him.
'If the pearls should slip from my hand,' he thought, 'and roll into the water, they might be lost to me forever. I must find some safer place.'
Here and there he wandered, still clasping the silken bag in both hands, and finally he went to the grove and climbed into the tall tree where he had made his platform and seat. But here it was pitch dark, so he found he must wait patiently until morning before he dared touch the pearls. During those hours of waiting he had time for reflection and reproached himself for being so frightened by the possession of his father's treasures.
'These pearls have belonged to our family for generations,' he mused, 'yet no one has ever lost them. If I use ordinary care I am sure I need have no fears for their safety.'
When the dawn came and he could see plainly, Inga opened the bag and took out the Blue Pearl. There was no possibility of his being observed by others, so he took time to examine it wonderingly, saying to himself: 'This will give me strength.'
Taking off his right shoe he placed the Blue Pearl within it, far up in the pointed toe. Then he tore a piece from his handkerchief and stuffed it into the shoe to hold the pearl in place. Inga's shoes were long and pointed, as were all the shoes worn in Pingaree, and the points curled upward, so that there was quite a vacant space beyond the place where the boy's toes reached when the shoe was upon his foot.
After he had put on the Shoe and laced it up he opened the bag and took out the Pink Pearl. 'This will
