Here she found a rugged old alligator who lay upon the bank, weeping with such bitterness that the sight reminded Zixi of her own recent outburst of sorrow.
“Why do you weep, friend?” she asked, for her experience as a witch had long since taught her the language of the beasts and birds and reptiles.
“Because I cannot climb a tree,” answered the alligator.
“But why do you wish to climb a tree?” she questioned, surprised.
“Because I can’t,” returned the alligator, squeezing two more tears from his eyes.
“But that is very foolish!” exclaimed the witch-queen, scornfully.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said the alligator. “It doesn’t strike me that it’s much more foolish than the fancies some other people have.”
“Perhaps not,” replied Zixi, more gently, and walked away in deep thought.
While she followed the river-bank, to find a ferry across, the dusk fell, and presently a gray owl came out of a hollow in a tall tree and sat upon a limb, wailing dismally.
[Illustration: “‘BECAUSE I CANNOT CLIMB A TREE,’ ANSWERED THE ALLIGATOR.”]
“Because I cannot swim in the river like a fish,” answered the owl, and it screeched so sadly that it made the queen shiver.
“Because I can’t,” said the owl, and buried its head under its wing with a groan.
“But that is absurd!” cried Zixi, with impatience.
The owl had an ear out, and heard her. So it withdrew its head long enough to retort:
“I don’t think it’s any more absurd than the longings of some other folks.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said the queen, and hung her head as she walked on.
By and by she found a ferryman with a boat, and he agreed to row her across the river. In one end of the boat crouched a little girl, the ferryman’s daughter, and she sobbed continually, so that the sound of the child’s grief finally attracted Zixi’s attention.
“Because I want to be a man,” replied the child, trying to stifle her sobs.
“Why do you want to be a man?” asked Zixi, curiously.
“Because I’m a little girl,” was the reply.
“You’re a little fool!” she exclaimed loudly.
“There are other fools in the world,” said the child, and renewed her sobs.
[Illustration: “‘WHY DO YOU SOB?’ QUESTIONED THE QUEEN.”]
Zixi did not reply, but she thought to herself:
“We are all alike—the alligator, the owl, the girl, and the powerful Queen of Ix. We long for what we cannot have, yet desire it not so much because it would benefit us, as because it is beyond our reach. If I call the others fools, I must also call myself a fool for wishing to see the reflection of a beautiful girl in my mirror when I know it is impossible. So hereafter I shall strive to be contented with my lot.”