There was great confusion and noise. There
was piping, hissing, chattering and clacking, and
finally it was decided that the bird that could fly
the highest should be king.
The signal was given and all the birds flew in a
great flock into the air. There was a loud rustling
and whirring and beating of wings. The air was
full of dust, and it seemed as if a black cloud were
floating over the field.
The little birds soon grew tired and fell back
quickly to earth. The larger ones held out longer,
and flew higher and higher, but the eagle flew
highest of any. He rose, and rose, until he seemed
to be flying straight into the sun.
The other birds gave out and one by one they
fell back to earth; and when the eagle saw this
he thought, ``What is the use of flying any higher?
It is settled: I am king!''
Then the birds below called in one voice:
``Come back, come back! You must be our king!
No one can fly as high as you.''
``Except me!'' cried a shrill, shrill voice, and
the little bird without a name rose from the eagle's
back, where he had lain hidden in the feathers,
and he flew into the air. Higher and higher he
mounted till he was lost to sight, then, folding his
wings together, he sank to earth crying shrilly: ``I
am king! I am king!''
``You, our king!'' the birds cried in anger;
``you have done this by trickery and cunning.
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