One day the army were overtaken by a singularly wild-looking man who proved, however, to be at the same time quite an amiable creature, and expressed a great desire to seek some employment with the gallant fellows. The King was pleased to enlist the nice and sociable person, and was more than repaid for his confidence in him by his charming ways. On one occasion, when the King was rather tired and worried, the Wild Man, in order to distract the dear old fellow, told the following story:—

'Good Sirs, though wild enough indeed, yet may I claim to be an unspoilt child of nature, whose finest instincts have, unchecked, found their true development. Thus, communing with nature from my cradle and living on terms of the closest intimacy with her wildest creatures, I can appreciate their humble wants, their hopes and fears, and have acquired the truly marvellous power of conversing with these simple-minded denizens of the wilderness.

'My home was a rocky cave hard by the sea-shore, in which I lived in simple happiness with my good wife, now dead, alas! this many a long year ago, and our five brown children, who long since have grown to men and gone out into the world to seek their fortunes. Harmless indeed were our joys, and our trials we bore with that great fortitude which was not the least of the blessings we derived from our simple mode of life.

'To proceed with my tale, on one dismal evening late in autumn, I left my cave, with the hungry cries of my children still in my ears,—for, indeed, the poor things had had no sup or bite the whole day through. Wondering what I could do that they might not go supperless to bed, I strolled along the sands by the sea in the hope of finding some odd limpet or whelk which, together with a few dried dandelion leaves, might make a simple stew. Alas! no vestige of a single crustacean could I find, so I sat me down upon the sands, determined not to return until the children had fallen asleep on the dry ferns and grass heaped up for them at the back of the cave, as their cries were more torment to me than my own emptiness.

'The sun had long ago set, and the autumnal twilight, reflected in the pools of still water left by the far receded tide, was gradually fading from the sky, when I fancied I could hear a low heart-rending moan from off the desolate waste of sand before me. Again and again it sounded, and at last realising that it might be uttered by some creature in distress, I stood up and, as far as the fading light would permit, scanned the sands in every direction.

'Nothing, however, could I see, and as the moan still continued at intervals and became, in fact, more and more painful and beseeching, I wandered about, a prey to the liveliest anxiety, endeavouring to discover whence it proceeded.

'At length I perceived on the sand, at a little distance before me, a small dark motionless object, and at that instant a harrowing sound, arising therefrom on the evening air, left me in no doubt as to the origin of the moans I had already heard. Creeping as quietly as possible on my hands and knees quite close to it, I found it to be a lovely blue point oyster, and bringing my head to a level with the shell, I asked coaxingly, and in as soft a voice as I could command, what ailed it.

'"Alas!" said the oyster, "a little while ago I possessed a child as sweet as ever chortled to its gasping mother, but snatched from me as it has been by the cruellest of whelks, it may even now lie helpless in the grasp of the ravenous brute, as it ruthlessly sups off its delicate limbs. No such grief have I had since that old native, my worthy husband, was slain, and was laid in state, his hoary head supported by a slice of lemon, beside a piece of brown bread-and-butter."

'Deeply affected by her grief, I begged her to reveal the name of the little one and to indicate the direction taken by the marauding whelk. "Bertram is its name," said the widowed blue point, and I could hear the tears falling within the shell as, with her beard, she pointed out the path followed by the rogue.

'I had not proceeded far in the direction indicated when I overtook a whelk, whose face was quite distorted by a savage look, and whose growls drowned the feeble cries of a tender blue pointlet whom he dragged along by the beard.

'"Now what is all this about?" said I to the sullen fellow. "Why should you, who are maybe blessed with young of your own, rob a poor widowed oyster of her only consolation since the death of her husband? A heart of rock would have melted at the cries of your victim, but you, ungenerous, can have no heart at all, and entirely drag the name of whelk through the mud." I could distinctly hear the ruffian lashing his tail within his shell as he replied: "It's all very well for you, old boy, but all that kind of nonsense you're talking don't come in here. If it were a question of saving your own life I'll bet you wouldn't give much ear to the whimperings of a sentimental blue point. Know then, old stick, that it isn't for the love of children that I am dragging this little brat along, but he's just going to be the supper of an old crab, who caught me this afternoon and only let me go on the condition that I found him something a little more toothsome and tender than I am."

'The cries of the infant were cruel to hear when it learnt the fate in store for it, and filled my heart with pity for the frail youngster. "Now come," said I to the whelk, "just wait a little while and consider, would it not always be a sad thing for you to reflect upon that you had been the cause of this frail young thing's death?" "Gammon!" answered the leather-hearted whelk, and proceeded on its journey. "Stay yet awhile," cried I, "and I will run and talk it over with the crab and see if his hard shell may hide a kinder heart than yours." "Well, look alive, old sentiments," replied the whelk; "it's a bit chilly waiting about out of the water when the tide's low. You'll see the old rascal over there by the sea."

'I hastened with what speed I might in the direction pointed out by the whelk, and presently came upon the old crab. Before I had time to greet him he accosted me with "Well, old kneebones, what's the trouble?" "No trouble of mine I do assure you," I replied as I seated myself by his side, taking care at the same time to keep well out of reach of his two pincer claws, that wobbled about wickedly in my direction; thus in some trepidation I continued the conversation. "The trouble is that of an innocent blue pointlet, now alas! in the toils of a perfect bully of a whelk, a worthless rough who is thus victimising the innocent to save himself from ending his paltry existence in your inside. Now my good fellow, I am perfectly certain that you are not going to allow this, indeed you are not the sort to sacrifice another's life to satisfy your own greed. Let me press you, just for once, to go supperless to bed, and thus assuage the anguish of a most affectionate mother."

'Much to my mortification and surprise, my conciliatory speech was met by roars of laughter from the flippant old crab. Peal upon peal disturbed the still evening air, and when the last clash of the hideous uproar had died away among the distant hills, the unfeeling brute, now in a state of collapse from loss of breath, gasped out:—"What, me give up the only chance of saving myself from that scoundrel of a lobster who only let me go on my promising to secure him something for supper a little less hard than myself! Well," continued the crab, "that's a good 'un, that is. My good chap you must be quite out of your senses. Why, not only will I hand over the baby oyster to the lobster, but I intend also to have my supper off that tough old idiot of a whelk, who reckons he's going to get off scot-free, and old mother blue point, too, if I can find her," and then, as an afterthought, "and you, old marrow-bones, wouldn't make half a bad tit-bit if I could get hold of you," and he made a horrid dash at me as he spoke. However, I easily evaded him, and from a safer distance argued the matter out with him in the following way:—

'"Allow me, my dear crustacean, to put the matter to you in this light. Now, first of all, clear your mind of all unnecessary bias. Suppose," said I, "that you were to change places with the young oyster, suppose, we'll say, that you had the near prospect of being devoured by the greedy lobster. How would you feel, I say, if your neighbour not only refused to exert himself in any way to extricate you from your predicament, but also gloried in being the main cause of the disaster that threatened you?"

'The wily scoundrel merely replied, "Ask me another," and with his left eye-stalk bent towards the ground, insolently winked at me with the other. Despairing of penetrating his tough shell with kindly suggestions, I temporised with him, and succeeded in persuading him to desist from his evil intentions until I had talked it over with the lobster. Out of sheer perversity the crab directed me wrongly, but in good time, after some wandering here and there, I discovered the lobster.

'I pleaded my case to him as eloquently as I had already done to the others,—nay, even more eloquently, being, no doubt, a little more used to it by now, but yet with no apparent good result. The wary creature pretended ignorance. "To which crab do you refer?" said he, in a questioning tone; "I have so much business with crustaceans in one way and another that you would be surprised to learn how confused I become in my dealings with them." To the best of my ability I described the appearance of the old crab, and aided my description with a slight sketch on the sand made with the point of my umbrella. He gazed at this with much interest and murmured to himself "considerable artistic talent," and then aloud, "Oh yes, yes, I remember him quite well; indeed, he was here only recently about a little matter of supper. Well, well, I'm afraid I cannot be of any help to you here. You see, it's like this. Earlier in the day, I came to a little arrangement (quite a little business affair, by the way) with an old lady conger eel I have known for many years, and it happened in this way. We were having a little dispute as to who should sup off the other, and without going into details, the upshot of it all was that the eel managed to tie herself in a knot round my throat, and so, you see, was mistress of the situation. I need not tell you that I did not lose my presence of mind—indeed, I never do—and I politely asked her if she had ever tasted crab, and effectually persuaded her that they were much better eating than lobster, and undertook to procure her a beauty (thinking all the time, of course, of our mutual friend), on the understanding that I should go quite free. It's very sad and all that sort of thing, no doubt, about the little oyster—sweet little chuck—indeed, I am more sorry than I appear to be about it, but really what can one do?" And the lobster shrugged his bristling shoulders. "Speaking to you," he continued, "as one man of the world to another, business is business after all, you know. And if we don't fulfil our obligations, where do we stand? Of course, I don't say but what a little chat with the conger might make it all right, and there's no harm in trying—she's a nice eel. I feel sure you would like her, at least I felt I should, when I invited her to be my supper—and if nothing comes of the meeting, well, we shall none of us be any worse off than we are at the present moment. If at any other time I can be of use to you, I do hope that you will not hesitate to come round and ask. Good day."

'I now left him to search for the conger, whom I found dozing in a pool near the sea. I took her out and placed her gently on the sand, and she gradually opened her eyes and fastened them on me. I once more expounded the reasons why, in my opinion, this cruel arrangement should not be persisted in. I quite astonished myself by my own eloquence, which grew more impassioned as I proceeded, and noticed that the old conger seemed deeply impressed. As I came to the most affecting parts of my argument the expression in her eyes grew really tender, and at the mention of the little blue point a tear gathered in each eye and slowly coursed down her shiny form. At the conclusion of my appeal the conger drew in a deep breath and replied:—"Well, I never! Now that is what I really do call good and kind. Oh pray come and sit down beside me on the sand and tell me all about it—now do, and tell me what first put it into your head—it is so very nice to come across a little real sentiment in these matter-of-fact times." Without waiting for me to proceed she rattled on:—"Upon my word, you really must have the kindest heart in the world—but are you quite sure you are comfy? Why not come round the other side; you'll be out of the wind there, and we can talk it over without anything to interfere with us. I quite agree with you in everything you have said, and I must say that I know of nothing more delightful than to find one's own thoughts expressed so much more clearly than one could do it oneself. Do you know, I am quite delighted to have met you, and hope that this is the commencement of one of those lasting friendships...."

'Thus she gabbled on, and thinking to myself, here, at last, is a kind-hearted soul, I asked her to promise to take the baby oyster back to its sorrowing mother, when she received it from the lobster. "What an extremely kind thought," she replied; "I assure you there is nothing in the whole world I would love to do so much as to take the little thing back to its Ma." Glancing dreamily at the sky the old eel continued:—"Dear little mite! I can see it even now, in my mind's eye, as it skips to its mother; she, dear soul, the while shedding pearls of delight,—a memory to carry to your grave. But I expect you must be going now—no doubt you are as busy as the rest of us—are they all well at home?—good-bye," and she prepared to return to the sea. "But, my dear woman," I protested, "I have not yet received your promise to see the little oyster home." "Now," said the eel, "pray don't spoil the pleasant evening we have had—but never mind—don't look so serious—come round some evening with the wife and children—don't say you won't." "But, Madam," I answered, "I am waiting for your promise to see the little one home." "My dear Sir," she replied at last, growing rather red in the face, "I can give you nothing of the kind, and must really refer you to the whale who captured me a little while ago, and only released me because I promised to procure him a lobster, which I persuaded him would be much more digestible and less bilious than I should prove to be as a meal."

'I now went in search of the whale, whom I discovered disporting himself in the sea a very little way from the shore. Taking my shoes and stockings off, I waded as near to him as I dared, and to conciliate him right off I wore as benignant an expression as I could assume and thus addressed him: "Of one thing I am convinced," said I, "and it is that you are the last person in all the world who would willingly give pain to anything,—least of all to a baby oyster." "Quite so, quite so," snorted the whale, "and what is more I never have and, upon my soul, I never will." "Bravo, good resolution," cried I, and then in moving terms I explained the situation and urged him to take the blue pointlet back to its mother on receiving it from the conger eel. "What is this you say," roared the whale; "do you mean to tell me that in exchange for her own fat self that villainous conger-eel now offers me a baby oyster instead of the promised lobster? Is it for this gross insult that I allowed her to resume her wretched existence? Well, I'm thundered!" and the enraged monster leapt seventy feet into the air. "Where is she?" roared he, and made off in the direction of the conger.

'But the old girl was one too many for the whale this time, and having heard his remarks on her conduct, off she darted after the lobster, saying to herself that as the whole arrangement had fallen through, she might just as well sup off the lobster,—besides, the claws would stew up quite well for the children's dinner to-morrow. The lobster in his turn, seeing the conger approach, at once understood that the affair was all off and left his little cave by the back door as conger entered by the front, and made for the place where he knew he would find the crab, arguing to himself thus:—"At any rate, the crab will make an excellent supper to which I have every right; for after all, as I have before remarked, business is business, and he will certainly be unable to fulfil his obligations." The saucy crab, however, saw him coming along with his mouth wide open ready to gobble him up, and shouted tauntingly to him:—"Keep your bristles on, old prawn" and ran off after the whelk. "Nothing really matters," thought he, "and as I feel a bit peckish I may as well eat up friend whelk and the blue pointlet 'll come in for a light breakfast in the morning." The cowardly whelk, reading the crab's evil intention in his eyes offered him the baby oyster. "Thanks, old flint," said the crab, "I'll have you first and the youngster another time," and he pounced on the whelk and ate him right up. But as he was crawling off in great comfort the old lobster overtook him and in no time polished him off. The lobster, now too contented to move quickly, was slowly returning to the water when up came the conger-eel who, without any delay, proceeded to strangle him and then to gobble him up. After her feast, the old girl, in her turn, felt drowsy. "I think," said she, "I now deserve a nap," and she lay down in a pool and went fast asleep. Presently the whale came along, having been hunting for the conger all over the place. As soon as he caught sight of her he roared in his wrath, "Is this what you call keeping your bargain?" and with one gulp he bolted her,—head, fins, tail and all.

'Then, having accomplished his revenge, and at the same time satisfied his appetite, his contentment was complete and he rolled over on his side in the shallow water, and fell into a deep sleep.

'Now, thought I, is this not providential? Is there not here not merely the evening meal I left my cave to seek, but many meals for my good wife and children,—enough in fact to ward off hunger throughout the winter that is now fast approaching. Taking up a great rock I hurled it with all my force at the head of the whale and killed it on the spot. I now proceeded to cut up the great creature and carry it, piece by piece, to my cave, and that very night, when it was all safely stowed, we cooked one great steak for supper, waking the children in order that they might share the meal, and the remainder my good wife preserved in brine. Thus in comfort we lived the winter through.

'The little oyster found its way back to its mother, and so grateful were they both for my endeavours to help them, that they took up their abode with us. Bertram grew to a fine chubby blue point. "Just like his father," said the proud mother, and nothing reached our hearts so nearly as his playful, charming ways.'