Thus they whispered among themselves, and the Eagle heard them, and was pleased.  But the little brown Wren heard also, and he was not pleased.  The absurd little bird!  He wanted to be king himself, although he was one of the tiniest birds there, who could never be a protector to the others, nor stop trouble when it began.  No, indeed!  Fancy him stepping as a peacemaker between a robber Hawk and a bloody Falcon.  It was they who would make pieces of him.  But he was a conceited little creature, and saw no reason why he should not make a noble sovereign.

“I am cleverer than the Eagle,” he said to himself, “though he is so much bigger.  I will be king in spite of him.  Ha-ha!  We shall see what we shall see!” For the Wren had a great idea in his wee little head—­an idea bigger than the head itself, if you can explain how that could be.  He ruffled up his feathers to make himself as huge as possible, and hopped over to the branch where the Eagle was sitting.

“Well, Eagle,” said the Wren pompously, “I suppose you expect to be king, eh?”

The Eagle stared hard at him with his great bright eyes.  “Well, if I do, what of that?” he said.  “Who will dispute me?”

“I shall,” said the Wren, bobbing his little brown head and wriggling his tail saucily.

“You!” said the Eagle.  “Do you expect to fly higher than I?”

“Yes,” chirped the Wren, “I do.  Yes, I do, do, do!”

“Ho!” said the Eagle scornfully.  “I am big and strong and brave.  I can fly higher than the clouds.  You, poor little thing, are no bigger than a bean.  You will be out of breath before we have gone twice this tree’s height.”

“Little as I am, I can mount higher than you,” said the Wren.

“What will you wager, Wren?” asked the Eagle.  “What will you give me if I win?”

“If you win you will be king,” said the Wren.  “But beside that, if you win I will give you my fat little body to eat for your breakfast.  But if I win, Sir, I shall be king, and you must promise never, never, never, to hurt me or any of my people.”

“Very well.  I promise,” said the Eagle haughtily.  “Come now, it is time for the trial, you poor little foolish creature.”

The birds were flapping their wings and singing eagerly, “Let us begin—­begin.  We want to see who is to be king.  Come, birds, to the trial.  Who can fly the highest?  Come!”

Then the Eagle spread his great wings and mounted leisurely into the air, straight toward the noonday sun.  And after him rose a number of other birds who wanted to be king,—­the wicked Hawk, the bold Albatross, and the Skylark singing his wonderful song.  The long-legged Stork started also, but that was only for a joke.  “Fancy me for a king!” he cried, and he laughed so that he had to come down again in a minute.  But the Wren was nowhere to be seen.  The truth was, he had hopped ever so lightly upon the Eagle’s head, where he sat like a tiny crest.  But the Eagle did not know he was there.