and there The Crystal Egg that would be
the Swan of Endless Tales That his burthen for a while might lie on his
shoulder-scales Fair-balanced while he heard the Tales the Swan poured
forth--North-world Tales for the while he watched the Star of the North;
And East-world Tales he would hear in the morning swart and cool, When
the Lions Nimrod had spared came up from the drinking pool; West-world
Tales for the King when he turned him with the sun; Then whispers of
magic Tales from Africa, his own.

But the Kings of Murias made the Crane their messenger--The fitful Crane
whose thoughts are always frightening her She slipped from Islet to
Isle, she sloped from Foreland to Coast; She passed through cracks in
the mountains and came over trees like a ghost; And then fled back in
dismay when she saw on the hollow plains The final battle between the
Pigmies and the Cranes.

Where is the Crystal Egg that was sent King Atlas then? Hatched it will
be one day and the Tales will be told to men: That is if it be not laid
in some King's old Treasury: That is if the fitful Crane did not lose it
threading the Sea!

They were not long going through the little field of blue flowers, and
when they went through it they came to another field of white flowers.
Fedelma asked the King's Son to tell her another story, and thereupon he
told her the second story in "The Breastplate of Instruction."

The Story of the Young Cuckoo

XII

The young cuckoo made desperate attempts to get himself through the
narrow opening in the hollow tree. He screamed when he failed to get
through.

His foster-parents had remained so long beside him that they were wasted
and sad while the other birds, their broods reared, were vigorous and
joyful. They heard the one that had been reared in their nest, the young
cuckoo, scream, but this time they did not fly towards him. The young
cuckoo screamed again, but there was something in that scream that
reminded the foster-parents of hawks. They flew away. They were
miserable in their flight, these birds, for they knew they were
committing a treason.

They had built their nest in a hollow tree that had a little opening.
A cuckoo laid her egg on the ground and, carrying it in her beak, had
placed it in the nest. Their own young had been pushed out. They had
worn themselves to get provision for the terrible and fascinating
creature who had remained in their nest.

When the time came for him to make his flight