The Palace of the Eagles

East of the Land of the Rising Sun there lived a king who spent all his days and half his nights in pleasure. His kingdom lay on the edge of the world, so people believed, and was nearly surrounded by the sea. No one cared what lay beyond the wall of rocks that cut the land off from the rest of the world. In fact, no one in that kingdom bothered much about anything.

Most of the people followed the king's example and led idle, careless lives, giving no thought to the future. The king saw the task of governing his subjects as a big nuisance; he did not want to be bothered with proposals about the people's welfare, and documents brought to him by his advisors for signature were never read. For all he knew, they could have been about school rules on the moon instead of trade laws and such public matters.

"Don't bother me," was his usual remark. "You are my advisors and officers of state. Deal with affairs as you think best."

And off he would go to his beloved hunting, which was his favorite pastime.

The land was fertile, and no one had ever imagined that bad weather might one year harm the crops and cause a grain shortage. They took no precautions to store wheat, so when one summer there was a great lack of rain and the fields were scorched, the winter that followed brought suffering. The kingdom faced famine, and the people did not like it. They did not know what to do, and when they appealed to the king, he could not help them. Indeed, he could not understand the problem. He brushed it off lightly.

"I am a mighty hunter," he said. "I can always kill enough beasts to provide plenty of food."

But the drought had withered the grass and trees, and the shortage of such food had greatly reduced the number of animals. The king found the forests empty of deer and birds. Still he failed to grasp the seriousness of the situation, and what he thought was a very bright idea struck him.

"I will explore the unknown territory beyond the wall of rocky hills," he said. "Surely there I will find a land of plenty. And at least," he added, "it will be a pleasant adventure with good hunting."

A great expedition was therefore arranged, and the king and his hunting companions set out to find a path over the rocks. This was not difficult at all, and on the third day a pass was discovered among the crags and peaks that formed the top of the barrier, and the king saw the region beyond.

It seemed a vast and beautiful land, stretching away as far as the eye could see in a forest of huge trees. Carefully, the hunters descended the other side of the rock barrier and entered the unknown land.

It seemed uninhabited. There was no sign of any beast or bird. No sound disturbed the stillness of the forest, no tracks were visible. As far as the hunters could tell, no foot had ever trodden there before. Even nature seemed at rest. The trees were all old, their trunks gnarled into fantastic shapes, their leaves yellow and dry, as if growth had stopped ages ago.

Altogether, the march through the forest was rather eerie, and the hunters proceeded in single file, which added to the strangeness of the experience. The novelty, however, made it pleasant for the king, and he kept on his way for four days.

Then the forest ended abruptly, and the explorers came to a vast open plain, a desert, through which a wide river flowed. Far beyond rose a mountain capped by rocks of regular shape. At least, they appeared to be rocks, but the distance was too great to be certain.

"Water," said the vizier, "is a sign of life."

So the king decided to continue as far as the mountain. A ford was found in the river, and once on the other side, it was possible to make out the rocks crowning the mountain. They looked too regular to be mere rocks, and as they drew nearer, the king was sure that a huge building must stand on the mountain top. When they arrived quite close, there was no doubt: either a town or a palace stood on the summit, and they decided to make the ascent the next day.

During the night no sound was heard, but to everyone's surprise a distinct path up the mountain was noticed in the morning. It was so overgrown with weeds, moss, and straggling creepers that it was clear it had not been used for a long time. The ascent was therefore difficult, but halfway up the first sign of life since the expedition began appeared: an eagle. Suddenly it flew down from the mountain top and circled above the hunters, screaming, but making no attempt to attack.

At last the summit was reached. It was a flat plateau of great expanse, nearly all of which was covered by an enormous building of massive walls and stupendous towers.

"This is the palace of a great monarch," said the king.

But no entrance of any kind could be seen. The rest of the day was spent wandering around, but nowhere was a door, window, or opening visible. It was decided to make a more serious effort the next morning to gain entry.

However, it seemed even more puzzling than ever. At last, one of the most daring of the party discovered an eagle's nest on one of the smallest towers, and with great difficulty he caught the bird and brought it down to the king. His majesty ordered one of his wise men, Muflog, who understood bird languages, to speak to it. He did so.

In a harsh croaking voice, the eagle replied, "I am but a young bird, only seven centuries old. I know nothing. On a tower higher than mine dwells my father. He may be able to give you information."

More he would not say. The only thing to do was to climb the higher tower and question the father eagle. This was done, and the bird answered:

"On a still higher tower dwells my father, and on an even higher tower my grandfather, who is two thousand years old. He may know something. I know nothing."

After considerable difficulty, the topmost tower was reached and the elderly bird discovered. He seemed asleep and was only awakened after much coaxing. Then he surveyed the hunters warily.

"Let me see, let me think," he muttered slowly. "I did hear, when I was a tiny eagle chick but a few years old—that was long, long ago—that my great-grandfather had said that his great-grandfather had told him he had heard that long, long, long ago—oh, ever so much longer than that—a king lived in this palace; that he died and left it to the eagles; and that in the course of many, many, many thousands of years the door had been covered up by the dust brought by the winds."

"Where is the door?" asked Muflog.

That was a puzzle the ancient bird could not answer readily. He thought and thought and fell asleep and had to be kept awake until at last he remembered.

"When the sun shines in the morning," he croaked, "its first ray falls on the door."

Then, worn out with all his thinking and talking, he fell asleep again.

There was no rest for the party that night. They all watched to make sure of seeing the first ray of the rising sun strike the palace. When it did, the spot was carefully noted. But no door could be seen. Digging was therefore begun, and after many hours an opening was found.

Through this they entered the palace. What a wonderful and mysterious place it was, all overgrown with the weeds of centuries! Tangled masses of creepers lay everywhere—over what were once neatly kept pathways, and almost completely hiding the lower buildings. In the crevices of the walls, roots had forced themselves in and by their growth had pushed the stones apart. It was all a terrible scene of desolation. The king's men had to hack a way laboriously through the wilderness of weeds with their swords to the central building, and when they did so they came to a door on which was an inscription cut deep into the wood. The language was unknown to all but Muflog, who deciphered it as follows:

"We, the Dwellers in this Palace, lived for many years in Comfort and Luxury. Then Hunger came. We had made no preparation. We had amassed jewels in abundance but not Corn. We ground Pearls and Rubies to fine flour, but could make no Bread. Wherefore we die, bequeathing this Palace to the eagles who will devour our bodies and build their eyries on our towers."

A dread silence fell on the whole party when Muflog read these strange words, and the king turned pale. This warning from the dead past was making the adventure far from enjoyable. Some of the party suggested abandoning the expedition immediately and returning home promptly. They feared hidden dangers. But the king remained resolute.

"I must investigate this to the end," he said in a firm voice. "Those who are seized by fear may return. I will go on, if need be, alone."

Encouraged by these words, the hunters decided to remain with the king. One of them began to batter at the door, but the king was anxious to preserve the inscription, and after more cutting away of weeds, the key was seen sticking in the keyhole. Unlocking the door, however, was no light task, for ages of rust had accumulated. When finally this was accomplished, the door creaked heavily on its hinges, and a musty smell came from the dank corridor that was revealed.

The explorers walked ankle-deep in dust through a maze of rooms until they came to a big central hall of statues. So artistically fashioned were they that they seemed lifelike in their poses, and for a moment everyone held their breath. This hall was dustless, and Muflog pointed out that it was an airtight chamber. Evidently it had been specifically designed to preserve the statues.

"These must be the effigies of kings," said his majesty, and reading the inscriptions, Muflog confirmed that.

At the far end of the hall, on a pedestal higher than the others, was a statue bigger than the rest. In addition to the name, there was an inscription on the pedestal. Muflog read it in an awed stillness:

"I am the last of the kings—yea, the last of men, and with my own hands have completed this work. I ruled over a thousand cities, rode on a thousand horses, and received the homage of a thousand vassal princes; but when Famine came I was powerless. Ye who may read this, take heed of the fate that has overwhelmed this land. Take but one word of counsel from the last of the mortals: prepare thy meal while the daylight lasts..."

The words broke off; the rest was undecipherable.

"Enough," cried the king, and his voice was not steady. "This has indeed been good hunting. I have learned, in my folly and pursuit of pleasure, what I had failed to see for myself. Let us return and act upon the counsel of this king who has met the end that will surely be our own should we forget his warning."

Looking out across the plain they had traveled, his majesty seemed to see a vision of prosperous cities and smiling fertile fields. In imagination, he saw caravans laden with merchandise journeying across the spaces. Then, as darker thoughts followed, a cloud appeared to settle over the whole land. The cities crumbled and disappeared, the eagles swooped down and took possession of that which man had failed to appreciate and hold; and after the eagles, the dust of the ages settled slowly, piling itself up year by year until everything was covered and only the desert was visible.

Scarcely a word was spoken as the king and his hunters made their way back to the land East of the Rising Sun. In all, they had been away forty days when they recrossed the wall of rocks. They were joyously welcomed.

"What have you brought?" asked the people. "In a little while we shall be starving."

"You shall not starve," said the king. "I have brought wisdom from the Palace of the Eagles. From the fate and sufferings of others I have learned a lesson—my duty."

At once he set to work to organize the proper distribution of the food supply and the cultivation of the land. He wasted no more time on foolish pleasures, and in due course the land East of the Rising Sun enjoyed happiness and prosperity and even established fruitful colonies in the plain overlooked by the Palace of the Eagles.