“Oh, be quiet,” said Parrot. “I was only pulling your leg. We didn’t expect you to come.”
“You didn’t?” asked Wensleydale, sitting up with his lace handkerchief still on his brow. “You mean you were joking with me? A jest in very poor taste, my dear Parrot, if I may say so. To laugh at somebody’s lumbago, especially when it’s an acute attack, shows a cruel, harsh nature.”
“Well, never mind, you’ll survive,” said Parrot cheerfully. “And now, since you’re too ill to offer us tea, we’ll be off.” “Dear fellow,” whispered Wensleydale. “In the normal way I’d be most happy to give you tea, but you’ve got those big . . . big . . . things with you. They’d drink us out of house and home. I can’t think why you take them about with you. What did you say they were called?”
“Children,” said Parrot. “You know, small humans.”
“You mean they grow bigger than that?” asked Wensleydale, alarmed. “It makes one shudder. I can’t see them ever becoming a popular pet, except for people with very large houses, of course.”
“Well, thanks for your help anyway,” said Parrot, and joined the children and Ethelred.
They made their way to where the Unicorns awaited them, and remounted.
“Now,” said Parrot, as they set off, “we seem to be getting somewhere. We’ve got the Unicorns’ help, which is something, and if this rue works we’ve got all the Weasels, and that is something. Now, as we’re up this way I suggest we drop in on the Griffons. There’s only about fifty of them. They’re a quiet and industrious colony. If we can get their aid, it will be a great help.”
“What exactly are Griffons?” asked Peter.
“Well,” said Parrot, “rather nice-looking beasts, I think: lion’s body and the head and wings of an eagle. The wings of our lot are purely decorative, of course, they can’t fly. They used to be purple in the old days, but these are a sort of sandy color. As I say, they’re quiet and hard-working, and their chief preoccupation is mining and storing gold. Gold is very important to them; they make their nests out of it, you see. Yes, without gold the Griffons would die out.”
“Don’t they do anything else?” asked Simon.
“Not really,” said Parrot. “They’re good, solid chaps, but with practically no sense of humor. You see, when H.H. founded Mythologia the Griffons were practically extinct, and we could find only three pairs in the Swiss Alps. Well, they came here and founded our colony. They run the only gold mine in Mythologia and run it extremely well.”
As they were talking, the Unicorns had been trotting through a narrow gorge filled with a mixture of bottle and cork trees. This now widened out into a spacious little valley. On the left-hand side of the valley the cliff face had a series of tunnels running into it, which obviously were the mines, for a constant procession of little trucks ran into the tunnels, empty, and reappeared piled high with great, glittering lumps of gold. The trucks ran to the center of the valley, where there were seven giant cauldrons bubbling and glubbing over fierce fires. As the trucks full of gold arrived, three Griffons with spades threw the gold lumps into the cauldrons, where they were melted down instantly. On the other side three other Griffons scooped up the liquid gold in what looked like long-handled soup ladles and poured it into molds shaped like bricks. As soon as the gold cooled and hardened, three more Griffons turned out the bricks of gold from the molds, loaded them into trucks, and pushed them into a giant cave that lay on the right-hand side of the valley. The entrance of this important gold storehouse was guarded by no less than twelve Griffons that lay on each side of it, as still as statues, their fierce, golden eyes watching everything carefully.
As soon as one of the sentries saw the little cavalcade of Unicorns, he sat up on his hind legs, spread his wings, and blew three blasts on a slender, golden trumpet. Immediately, all the Griffons stopped whatever they were doing and gathered round, and yet more Griffons, covered and sparkling with gold dust, appeared from the mine shafts. Soon the children were surrounded by some fifty Griffons. They were inclined to agree with Parrot’s description of them as nice-looking beasts. Each was the size of a very large dog, with the body of a lion and a lion’s tawny coat. Their huge, eagle heads—though fierce-looking, with strong, curved beaks—had a kindly expression in the large, keen eyes. They would occasionally spread their wings above their heads and stretch and flap them as hawks do.
“Good morning, good morning, gold-digger Griffons,” said Parrot, when they were all assembled. “I bring you greetings from H.H.”
The Griffons all said “Goot morning,” in growly, deep voices like lions. And then they pushed one of their number forward as spokesman.
“Ve are much pleased to see you, Herr Parrot,” he said in his rich voice.
“Ja, ja,” chorused the rest of the Griffons, nodding their heads.
“Ve have heard that the Cockatrices have killed you and H.H. both, so ve vere much sad,” the Griffon went on.
“Well, both I, as you can see, and H.H. are very well indeed,” said Parrot. “It’s just that the Cockatrices have suddenly become disobedient.”
“That is very bad,” said the Griffon. “Cockatrices should not disobedient be.”
“Yes,” Parrot went on. “They’ve stolen the Great Books of Government and are holding them in Cockatrice Castle, and we plan to get them—I and these kind children here.”
“Any friend of Herr Parrot is a friend of the Griffons,” said the Griffon, inclining his head.
“The Cockatrices need a good lesson,” said Parrot. “We can’t have them running the country. Already they’re producing an egg a day. Who knows where it will end? The next thing, they’ll be banning gold as a nest-building material.”
“Vat?” roared all the Griffons. “Dis ve vould not allow.”
“Well, there you are,” said Parrot. “That’s the sort of thing we’re trying to put a stop to. We’ve got the Unicorns and the Weasels on our side, and we want to know if we can count on your help.”
The Griffons conferred together in their deep, rumbling voices with much swishing of wings and clattering of beaks. At last the spokesman said to Parrot, “Ve are agreed. Ve vill join you. Ve t’ink government by dese Cockatrices vill be bad t’ing for Mythologia. Ve your instructions vill avait.”
“Thank you,” said Parrot. “We will send a message to you when we’re ready.”
“At your service alvays,” said the Griffon, bowing.
As the children rode away, they could hear the clink, clink, clink of the Griffons’ hammers deep in the mines and the bubbling and plopping noise of the liquid gold boiling in the great cauldrons.
“That’s marvelous,” said Peter enthusiastically, as they left the valley. “I like the Griffons. Just the sort of people one would like to have around in a tight corner.”
“They’re slow but sure,” said Parrot.
“Well, now we’re collecting something like an army,” said Simon. “With the Unicorns, the Weasels, and the Griffons, we’ve got nearly a thousand soldiers.”
“And we’ll need them,” said Parrot. “Those Cockatrices won’t give in easily. Their castle is practically impregnable.”
“Wot does that mean?” asked Ethelred, jogging up and down behind Penelope on her Unicorn.
“It means you can’t get into it easily,” Penelope explained.