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You thought all the fairies dead, you say,
Gone from this beautiful world so gay;
Lying asleep on a lost moonbeam,
Or carried away by a sparkling stream.
How silly to think the fairies die!
They are always somewhere dancing by,
Gliding here and whirling there,
Swiftly moving on little feet bare.
They float along on the gentle breeze,
That softly stirs the whispering trees;
They wander dreamily to and fro,
Past where the woodland waters flow.
The willow trees by the lonely creek,
The tall grey gums on the mountain peak,
Welcome them all as they dance along,
Tripping it lightly to Bellbird’s song.
When told of fairies, don’t shake your head,
And say that you know they all are dead;
For although the years glide swiftly by,
The sweet little fairies never die.
Oh! how lovely it is,” sighed Anna; “If I could only get into
it,” and the little girl clasped the flower closer and sighed again.
She was sitting on the garden seat with a large rose in her hand, while the
other flowers she had gathered lay unheeded on the ground.
“See,” went on the child, unconsciously speaking aloud, “See
how the dew has weighed down its beautiful head; the cup is filled, and its
petals are glistening and wet. I am sure,” she murmured, “it
is weeping for the dear little buds it has left on the tree where it grew.
It is certainly the queen of all flowers,” she added, nodding her little
head wisely, “but I wonder how it came to be called the queen.”
“Well, you are ignorant if you don’t know that,” said
a voice beside her; “it’s certainly a thing you ought to know.” Anna
started, but looking down she saw a tiny elf gazing up at her, with wide
open eyes.
“Do you really know?” she asked, with a world of wonder shining
in her eyes. “You must be very wise.”
“Oh, well, I know a good deal, because I’m a fairy,” he
said, drawing himself up proudly.
“And do fairies know such a lot?”
“Of course,” he said, glancing at her scornfully.
“Well, don’t get cross and horrid, but tell me about it instead,” said
Anna.
“Very well, I will tell you the story if you promise me you won’t
interrupt and ask questions.”
“Oh, yes, I will promise; do begin at once.” So the elf began:
“Once, many years ago, there was a beautiful garden situated on the
borders of a great forest. It was in this garden that the fairies lived.
Now, in the garden there grew all kinds of flowers, and the Crown Imperial
lily claimed that she was the most beautiful of all. ‘I am the fairest
flower,’ the stately blossom would cry, and the rest would repeat, ‘Thou
art by far the fairest.’ Now, when the great moon shone over the sleeping
world, the fays, fairies and the woodland sprites would come from their mushroom
homes and go dancing and singing among the flowers, the Fairy Queen touching
them each with her magic wand as they passed, leaving in their hands a glistening
dewdrop, which served as a lantern. Then, when they had all received the
dewdrops, they would troop along to the great oak tree where they held their
councils. One night, when they were all assembled beneath the tree, the Queen
stood up to command silence, and then told them she had something important
to communicate.
“‘Are all my subjects here?’ she asked.
“‘All,’ came the answer from many throats.
“‘Then call Merlin, the court magician.’
“‘Yes, your Majesty,’ said he, stepping forward, ‘I
am here.’
“‘I find,’ said the Queen, ‘that the Crown Imperial
lily, of our beautiful garden, considers herself the fairest and the best;
therefore I have decided to put all these flowers to a test, and that which
passes shall be the queen of flowers henceforth. That is all I have to say,
Merlin. Go; deliver my message to the flowers at once.’
“‘Your Majesty is obeyed,’ replied Merlin, as he disappeared.
“‘Now to the dance,’ cried the Queen.
“And, oh! how they danced,” said the little elfman: “up
and down, in and out, till they seemed just a whirl of glittering colours.
But when the first streak of dawn appeared, the fairies, outspreading their
golden wings, flew away. The flowers were greatly excited when they heard
about the test, and they waved and danced in the breeze, bowing and bending
as though their stalks would break. The next day there came to the garden
a beautiful maiden, clad in glistening gold, with large shimmering gold wings.
Her eyes were blue and sparkling, and in her hair was fastened a beautiful
crown of little pink roses and pearly dewdrops. She walked proudly around
the garden surveying the flowers. Then, seeing the Crown Imperial lily she
said sweetly: ‘May I shelter under your leaves?’ and her voice
was like a song. ‘Most certainly,’ answered the lily, ‘for
I am the fairest of all flowers; the whitest and the best.’
“The following day was wet and stormy, and through the garden came
a little beggar maid, and her little bare feet were blue with the cold. She
went from flower to flower and begged pityingly for shelter which they all
refused with the cruel words: ‘We have no shelter for such as you.’ At
last she came to a small rose bush, and asked despairingly for shelter, which
the humble rose willingly gave.
“In the morning, when the rose awoke, she found that the child was
gone, but all the ground around her roots was carefully dug up. That afternoon,
the Queen came and told the flowers that the test was over, and had been
won by the rose. She then told them that she was the beautiful maiden and
also the little beggar child.
“Then the Queen turned to the rose and said that she would grant her
any one wish. The rose lifted up her head and said:
“‘Oh, your Majesty, grant that I may become a fairy child, and
go forth into the world to help those in trouble.’
“‘Your wish is granted,’ said the Queen, ‘and henceforth
you shall be known to the world as Charity; and not only will I grant your
wish, but all the rose trees that grow hereafter shall bear beautiful blossoms,
and will hold the first place among flowers, and, therefore, the rose will
be for evermore the queen of flowers.’” Here the elf-man stopped.
“Oh, is that all?” exclaimed Anna; but strange to relate, there
was no sign of the tiny being.
* * * * * * * *
“Yes,” nurse said, “it was all a dream, and Miss Anna
must certainly have gone to sleep in the garden.” But Anna did not
agree, for the little girl knew better— yes, far, far better—than
nurse, for once.
The hall clock struck six chimes with stately measure, the sixth stroke
dying away like a distant echo in some gloomy cave. Ella started up, and,
opening her window, looked out. She sought for her friend the sea; to-day
it looked beautiful, as it sparkled in the sun. Quickly dressing, she ran
down to the beach, and seating herself on a large stone she gazed thoughtfully
out to sea. She was a lonely little maiden, for her mother and father were
dead, and she lived with her Aunt, who was very old and quarrelsome, and
who did not understand her ways or childish pleasures. As she sat there she
could see the little fishing boats coming from their midnight voyages, and
could hear the low murmur of the waves as they broke one by one upon the
shore, with a sound like very soft laughter.
“Good morning, Missie,” said old Bob, the fisherman, as he came
along with his fishing net. “You will not come to see the fish caught
this morning, I suppose?” he added, smiling, (for some weeks ago Ella
had asked him to let her watch him draw his net ashore, and she had told
him that she thought it would be great fun to watch the fish come inside
it from the sea; but when the little leaping things were lying upon the sand
she wanted to put them back into the sea again.)
“Oh, no, Bob,” cried Ella, “I do want to come, and I hope
you will catch many to-day. I feel so sorry for them, I wish I could put
them back again and let them swim away.”
“Why, Missie,” said Bob, “what would all the people do
if fishermen were like you?”
“Well, good-bye, Bob,” said Ella, as the old fellow walked away; “I
hope you will not catch too many.” Ella sat and watched the little
curling waves break upon the shore, and it seemed to her dreamy fancy that
they were calling to her, and that their white arms beckoned as they lapped
gently back with the receding tide, leaving behind them countless tiny furrows
in the silver sand.
“Oh, my little waves, if I could go with you!” she cried, standing
up and stretching forth her hands. “Oh, dear little waves, do take
me with you as you go back with the tide.” Then one little wave bolder
than the rest came swiftly forward and broke around her feet with a hushing
murmur, then returned again with a sobbing sound, as if it regretted to leave
her.
“I shall go to the haunted cave tonight,” murmured Ella, as
if speaking to the sea, “and see the beautiful maiden who is said to
go there every night; and I shall ask her to take me away with her, for no
one will grieve for me, and Auntie does not love me,” she added sadly.
That night she slipped out unobserved, and ran down to the beach and crept
into the cave. There she waited behind a great piece of rock, for what seemed
to her a very long time. The air was still and quiet, and no sound broke
the stillness save the wash of the water as the tiny wavelets broke one after
another on the beach.
“Oh, will she never come?” cried the weary little maiden. Stay—what
was that? —only a loose stone from above falling with a sullen sound
on the rocks below. Two seagulls startled, flew screaming out into the night,
and all was quiet again. Suddenly a bright light sparkled out across the
water, shining straight into the cave. So bright was it that it hurt her
eyes to look upon it. Now it came nearer, and Ella saw floating towards her
a little boat with a silver sail, in which sat a beautiful maiden. Nearer
and nearer it came, and the intense stillness was broken by the maiden’s
sweet singing, which floated across the water and echoed through the cave.
While Ella waited, the voice suddenly ceased, and there was the sharp grating
of a keel on the beach. Having drawn the boat up high upon the sand, the
maiden came slowly forward and entered the cave. Ella drew further back into
the shadow and watched her. She glided slowly forward—her white garments
swaying musically as she walked—then she leaned wearily against a large
piece of rock in the centre of the cave. Presently she began to sing, in
a round, full voice, that rang through the air with the clearness of a silver
bell. The sweet notes were full of melody, but mournful and pathetic.
Little Ella was enchanted, and, as she listened, her heart grew soft and
full of tenderness for the beautiful singer.
Such a wondrous song it was, full of sadness.
She sang of the beautiful world, so full of joy, of the fairies that live
in the woodlands, of the mermaids and merbabies under the sea, and of the
little water-babies in the river. She sang of the happiness of these little
beings, and how she herself was so sad because they had no queen to rule
over them, and how she came every night to the cave in hopes of finding some
little earth maiden who would go and watch over them.
“I will go with her,” thought Ella, as she listened, “and
I will ask her to take me to the little water-babies.”
When she ceased, Ella stole softly up and took her hand. “I will come,” was
all she said; but the maiden understood, and, taking the child by the hand,
she led her to the boat, telling her softly to step in. Then the maiden pushed
the little craft out into the water, which was received by the waves and
borne gently along.
“Won’t you come too?” cried Ella, from the water, to the fair
maiden, who was still standing on the shore. “Have I to go alone?”
“Yes, alone,” she answered; “all alone to the ‘Sunset
Lake,’ for now my work is done, and I return once more to my home in
the land of dreamful sleep. So good-bye, little queen, good-bye.”
The last words died away in a whisper, and at that moment a sigh seemed
to fill the soft night air, and Ella was alone, whilst far out on the water
she saw a large, crimson poppy floating away on its surface.
The little boat swung out with the tide, and Ella was borne swiftly and
silently along, she knew not whither. On and on they went, leaving the lights
of the little fishing village far behind them. At last Ella saw they were
approaching the mouth of a large, gloomy cave. The water flowed sluggishly
in, bearing the little boat with it. The splash of the waves, made by the
moving of the boat, seemed to echo gloomily through the cave.
Ella began to feel afraid as they went swiftly on, and there was no sign
of a light, nothing but total darkness; but suddenly, as they rounded a corner,
Ella uttered a cry of amazement, for there she saw, stretching far away,
the beautiful “Sunset Lake.”
The sun was just sinking in the west as the little boat shot out of the
cave, ruffling the water of the placid lake before it, and presently, with
a little sighing sound, it ran ashore in a maze of golden flowers by the
bank.
As Ella stepped out of the boat, she was more surprised than ever at the
beauty of the scene around her. The glorious sunset lighting up the sky with
crimson, gold, and quivering opal; the clear, still lake, reflecting the
beautiful colour of the sky, was all aglow. The air was still and quiet,
for all the little birds had gone to rest, and no sound broke the stillness,
save the mournful plash of the wavelets rolling the whole length of the shore.
Far away on the water Ella could see the little boat, with its silver sail,
like pale moonlight, floating down the shimmering waters to the spot where
the sun was just dropping into the lake. She stood and watched it till it
was lost to view in the haze of golden light.
What should she do? She stood awhile pondering, and having made up her mind,
she turned and walked slowly along the shore.
As far as she could see was beautiful silver sand, and dotted about, right
to the water’s edge, were little clumps of flowers, while further back
the sand lost itself in the depths of a beautiful wood. Ella entered it and
was amazed at its splendour.
All around her were large trees, some with their beautiful foliage touching
the ground. Her footsteps fell noiselessly on a thick carpet of velvety green
moss, dotted prettily here and there with snow-white flowers, and the red
gleam of ripening wild strawberries. Ella pushed through the tangled bushes
and came suddenly upon a beautiful fairy seated on a stone, decorating a
silver trumpet with some of the flowers that grew around her.
Far away behind her stretched another part of the sunset lake. Ella was
so astonished that she could do nothing but stand and gaze.
“Who are you?” said the fairy, looking up from her work, “and
what do you want?”
“I have come,” answered Ella, “to stay with the little
water-babies, and—”
“Oh!” cried the fairy, jumping up, “you have come to
be the queen, and rule over our little water-babies. I have been expecting
you. Come along, and I will get you ready at once.”
She then led Ella down a little pathway of stones to the edge of the lake.
Far out over the water Ella saw a beautiful city built of pure crystal. Domes,
towers and steeples stood out against the sky, and the red gleam of the sunset,
shining through the crystal, enveloped it in a golden haze. The castles and
shining domes glimmered and shimmered, casting a glow of fire over the water.
“What is that?” cried Ella, delightedly.
“That,” answered the fairy, “is the City of Sleep, where
Zerina lives.”
“And who is Zerina?” asked Ella.
“Zerina is the maiden you saw in the cave,” replied the fairy; “but
come, let us be going.”
The fairy then drew out a tiny boat from among the rushes, and set it afloat
on the water. When they were seated, the little craft began to move slowly
along. Ella sat enchanted with the beauty of the scene around her. Suddenly
she became aware that the boat was anchored, and the fairy was speaking to
her.
“Come, Ella,” she said, “jump into the lake.” Ella
could not swim, but she threw herself obediently into the water, and the
fairy sprang in after her.
When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to find herself in a most resplendent
hall. The floor was covered with soft, white sand that gleamed like moonlight.
The roof was supported by coral pillars, and the walls were made of strange
coloured stones and metals, and over it all the light shone in tender quivering
rays. Then the fairy led her up a winding stairway into a little room made
of mother-of-pearl.
“Now, little maiden,” she said, “I am going to turn you
into a little water queen.” She then took a flower from her trumpet,
and waved it over Ella’s head. The flower seemed to unfold as she waved
it, enveloping Ella in a gauzy mist. Then she took some gold pollen from
another flower, and threw it into the air, making the mist clear instantly,
and Ella stood before her arrayed in queenly robes.
Her dress was a pale pink colour, with a silver ribbon encircling her waist,
her black hair was long and shining, and on her head was a garland of pure
white waterlilies.
“Now, Ella,” said the fairy, as she kissed her, “shut
your eyes,” and then—well, what had happened?
The fairy had gone, and Ella found herself standing on a stone in a little
river that flowed slowly along, to lose itself in the Sunset Lake. All along
its banks were trees and beautiful flowers. Ella sat down on a stone and
gazed in bewilderment.
Suddenly, from every quarter of the stream, came a crowd of little children
swimming up. Some had little curling tails, some wore garlands of flowers,
and some had red strings of corals round their necks and arms, others blew
on crooked shells, and many of the children, with hugs and kisses, hung on
her neck and shoulders, murmuring softly: “Our little queen! our little
queen!”
Ella was enchanted with the little beings, and she kissed and caressed them
in return.
Then they began to play with one another, jumping high out of the water,
laughing and singing all the time.
Ella stood and watched them, and, after a time, joined in their sport.
They played, sang, and swam about till long after the great moon had taken
the place of the setting sun; but when the first streaks of dawn appeared,
all grew quiet, and they floated silently away on the River of Dreams to
the “City of Sleep.”
Day came, and the wonderful mysteries of the sunset and moonlight vanished.
Far away in the forest, where the fairies, the elves, and the hobgoblins
dwell, lived two little gnomes. Their home was under a large mushroom, and
their names were Hip and Hop respectively.
They were very fond of adventure, and, in fact, were in the habit of saying
to one another: “When shall we start to seek our fortune?”
They were really very ambitious, and looked forward to the time when they
should set out on their travels to find some hidden treasure, or to rush
bravely to the rescue of any fair maiden, whom they might find imprisoned
in a great castle.
Some years before the time that my story begins, there was a great tumult
in fairyland, for it was discovered that the beautiful princess of a neighbouring
tribe of wingless fairies had completely disappeared.
The two tribes were on very friendly terms; so, of course, the grief on
both sides was very great. However, the princess had never come back, and
the general belief was that she had been spirited away by the forest witch,
a tiresome old thing who raced about on a broomstick, and whom the princess
had upset one day, just as she was alighting on the ground.
From the day that the princess disappeared, the witch had changed her abode,
which she had hitherto held in a large cavern, and the fairies had never
seen her or the princess since.
Now, this happened many years before the beginning of my story, and the
two little gnomes had often talked it over, but had never found the solution
of the mystery.
One day, as they were walking through the forest, the question of the lost
princess arose, and together they sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree
and discussed it.
Hip began telling his plan; but, as Hop had heard it so many times before,
he did not listen very attentively, and occupied himself with his thoughts,
when all at once a brilliant thought came into his head.
“I say, do listen!” he cried, suddenly, interrupting Hip in
the middle of his narrative, “I have a splendid plan. Let us set out
to seek the lost princess ourselves.”
“The very thing,” cried Hip; “I wonder we did not think
of it before. We had better start at once.”
“Yes, I think we should,” answered Hop; “which way ought
we to go?”
“Well, I don’t know,” replied Hip, “but I propose we should
go straight ahead, and we will be sure to find something.”
“Well, agreed,” cried Hop, and off they started. Up hill and
down dale they went, till they had left the fairy forest far behind. At last
they found themselves on a huge, sandy plain, across which ran a narrow track,
leading to a dark forest.
Arriving there, they sat down and rested awhile, quenching their thirst
at the brink of a little stream, which lost itself in the depths of the forest.
Much refreshed, they pursued their journey, following the little track, which
wound on and on.
The way led through a dark, thick wood, and continued so for a number of
miles; then the road led up a steep and bare hillside. At last they reached
the top, and there below, at their feet, they saw, stretching far away, a
beautiful forest.
The great sun was just sinking in the west as Hip and Hop made their way
down the hillside. The whole sky was lit up with its gorgeous light—azure,
crimson and gold.
They picked their way among the trees and, finding a beautiful grassy space,
they lay down to rest. The air was still and quiet, for all the birds had
gone to rest, and no sound broke the silence.
“Oh! isn’t this lovely?” cried Hip, “it is almost
as lovely as our own beautiful forest, all these beautiful trees and sweet-scented
flowers, and not a sound to break the silence.”
Hardly had he finished speaking when the sound of sweet singing reached
their ears. Springing to their feet, they stood listening to catch every
word.
“Who can it be?” whispered Hop, as the singing became louder
and sweeter, as it was borne along on the evening air.
“Come, let us find it,” shouted Hip, and off he went, with Hop
running behind.
“What is it?” cried Hop, as he came hurrying up.
“Look! look! isn’t she lovely?” cried Hip, as he peeped
through the bushes which hid her from view.
“Let me have a look, too,” said Hop. “Oh!” cried
he, the next minute, “she’s just beautiful. Come, let us go to
her.” They pushed through the tangled bushes and came to an open space,
where a beautiful maiden sat, singing sweetly as she plucked and kissed the
flowers that grew about her.
“Well, little elves,” she said, as she gazed at them, “what
is it you want?” Hip looked at Hop and Hop looked at Hip, but neither
could speak.
“I—er—at least, we—we came,” began Hip, but
could get no further.
“Well,” said Hop, looking round for help from the almost dumb
Hip, “The—er —the fact is—”
“Yes,” said the beautiful maiden, looking inquiringly at him, “is
what?”
“It is—it is—Oh! I don’t know, I don’t know.”
“Oh! Hip, let us go away at once,” cried the poor little gnome,
starting to run away.
“Not so fast, not so fast, my little friends,” said the maiden, “I
think I know what you want. You are seeking the lost princess.”
“Yes, yes, that’s it,” they cried, both in the same breath, “that’s
it, we are seeking the lost princess, who disappeared at the same time that
the witch left her home, and neither have been heard of since,” they
added, mysteriously, having quite recovered their tongues. “And,” said
Hip, growing quite confidential, “we think that she stole her, and
that she has gone away and taken her too, and that she—”
“Why, who is she?” asked the maiden, smiling.
“Why, the witch, of course, and that she is chained in a great castle,” continued
Hip, growing quite excited, “and that if we do not rescue her, she
will—”
“Come,” interrupted Hop, thinking his friend had said quite
enough, “don’t talk any more, for the beautiful lady knows all
about it—don’t you?” he said, gazing inquiringly up at
her.
“Yes, my little elves, I know all about it.”
“Then help us, pretty lady,” said Hip. “Help us to find
what we seek.”
“Yes, certainly, I will help you,” she answered; “but
why are you seeking her?”
“Well,” said Hop, “we wanted to go on a journey and win
honours for ourselves, as other gnomes have done, and to show some little
elves, who were rude to us and called us cowards, that we would become famous
throughout Fairyland.”
They then explained to their companion all they knew about the princess,
and their theories on the subject.
“Well,” said their new friend, “I think I can help you
a little.”
“How?” asked Hip and Hop, in the same breath.
“First find the track, then the tree, and then the Princess. Now,
that is all I can tell you,” and, with a merry laugh, she bounded up
a mossy bank, and was lost to view.
The twilight had just faded into night as our two friends started off.
“Look, Hip,” cried Hop, “look at that light over there
on the grass,” and there, sure enough, something sparkled on the ground,
and the longer they looked at it the plainer they saw that a long line of
twinkling lights stretched across the grass. With beating hearts, they rushed
towards it. Hip stretched out his hand and touched them.
“Why, they’re only dewdrops,” he said, “but who
ever saw them lying in a line like that.”
“Let’s see where it goes,” cried Hop, “for it may
have something to do with the Princess.”
Off they started along the track, which lost itself in the distance. On
and on they went, till, suddenly, when turning a corner, they saw that the
line ended in something white.
“Look, look!” whispered Hip, as he drew nearer, “why it’s
a skinny white rabbit.”
“So it is,” said Hop, “and, look, it is brushing away
the dewdrops.”
As soon as the rabbit caught sight of them he bounded away with the two
little gnomes after him. But fast though they ran, they could not catch him;
and, just as they were gaining, he stopped at the foot of a large stone,
looked around at them, and disappeared.
“Well,” said Hip as they came up, “he disappeared here,
so he’ll come out here, and I shall just wait here till he comes.”
“So shall I,” said Hop; “but I think we ought to hide
behind one of these boulders.”
“Yes, I think so, too,” said Hip; and climbing behind one of
the rocks which lay around, they awaited events.
They had scarcely been waiting a minute when they saw the rabbit’s
head emerge from the hole, and, seeing no sign of our heroes, he jumped up
and scampered away, with Hip and Hop dashing wildly after him. He ran along
for some distance, then disappeared behind a large oak.
“Well,” said Hip, as they came up, “he’s gone again.”
“Look, look!” cried Hop, “look at that door.” And
there sure enough was a door fitted beautifully into the side of the oak.
“I can’t see anything,” cried Hop, as he peeped through
the keyhole; “and the door is locked, too.”
“Let me see if the key is on the inside,” said Hop, as he advanced
with a long reed in his hand. He probed the keyhole, but the reed went right
through. “Well,” said he, “there is no key in the lock,
so I think it is likely to have been locked from the outside.”
“Yes, perhaps so,” said Hip; “so come and let us hide
behind these rocks and see what happens.”
The time dragged slowly on, and still no sign of anything. At last, just
when the first streak of dawn appeared, they saw coming towards them an old
decrepit-looking woman, holding by the paw their enemy the white rabbit.
She went straight to the oak, and unlocked the door and entered. Quick as
thought, Hip and Hop crept in with her. In the gloom it was impossible for
her to see them, and the rabbit was nodding sleepily. Having locked the door,
she shambled away.
“What luck we had to get in,” whispered Hop, as the two little
gnomes set off down the passage.
In the dim light they could see the old woman hobbling along with the rabbit
close behind her. Presently they came to the end of the passage, and saw
that it branched off in two different ways. Seeing the witch already half
way down one passage, they at once took the other.
Suddenly, as they went forward, Hop stumbled and fell, making no effort
to rise; and Hip, rushing to his assistance, tumbled on top of him. They
both fell so fast that they had no time to scream. Thump, thump, they had
reached the ground at last. They lay there for some minutes too frightened
to move, but at last, finding themselves unhurt, they grew braver, and looked
about them. All around were great rocks and jagged pieces of granite, and
they could easily see that they were underground, for above their heads were
the roots of trees hanging down.
“Come, let us have a look round,” said Hip; “the ground
is paved with little stones fitting closely together, so our journey will
be easy.”
The path went on for some distance, getting narrower and narrower, till
at last they had to go on their hands and knees; then the roof suddenly widened,
and they found themselves in a large cave. Peering through the gloom, they
saw the form of a maiden standing chained to a pillar of stone, whom they
rightly judged to be the long lost Princess.
“Who are you?” she asked; “has the witch made two more
prisoners?”
“No, no!” answered Hip; “we are two elves who have set
out to look for the stolen Princess, and we think we will not have to search
any more; for, unless we are very much mistaken, you are she, fair lady,
and therefore we have come to rescue you and take you back to your own people.”
“Your news is good, indeed, and I am the long lost Princess, sirs,” she
said. “See, the key of my fetters is under that stone.”
With some difficulty our heroes got the key, and soon the Princess was free.
Full of gratitude, she put her arms around the two little elves and cried
for joy.
“Now, tell me all about it,” she said, as she sat down between
them. Having told her all, they asked what next should be done.
“Well,” said she, “the witch visits me once every seven
days, and, as she came yesterday, I will not see her again for another week,
so we must wait till to-night, when the witch mounts her broomstick, and
sails away to see her sister, who lives in the back of the moon, and whom
she visits every night. So, then, my dear little heroes, we will slip out
of the door, and leave the witch for ever.”
“Well, dear lady,” said Hop, “I propose to set out as
soon as possible.”
“Then let us start at once,” answered the maiden, “for
I have been here longer than I care about; however, we can get back quicker
than you came; see, here is a door that has never been opened, and can only
be unfastened by the person or persons who come here successfully to rescue
me. Open it, my friends, for it will yield to your touch.”
The door being opened, there was revealed a steep flight of steps. On reaching
the top, they found themselves in a narrow passage. Running quickly along,
they came to the hole through which our heroes had fallen.
It was very large and quite impossible to get over. Here they stopped in
consternation.
“Oh!” cried Hop, “what shall we do?”
“And just as we were getting on so well,” sobbed the Princess.
“Yes, you were doing pretty well, my friends.” The words seemed
to come from their feet, and looking down, they saw a huge black spider,
as large as a man’s head, watching them. They all started back in terror.
“It’s all right,” said the spider, “you have nothing
to fear from me. I am the friend of all who need my help, and you will need
it, I see.”
“I don’t think you will be able to help us,” they murmured,
disconsolately.
“Don’t you?” answered the spider quietly; “wait
and see.”
Then he took a great jump, landing on the other side of the hole, leaving
across the cavity a fine silken thread; then he went backwards and forwards
many times, and each time the web became thicker and thicker. Thus he toiled
till, at last, there was a strong bridge of glistening web over the hole.
Cautiously our friends tried it, and finding it perfectly strong, they ran
nimbly across and landed in safety on the other side.
“Oh! dear spider,” they cried, “we are so—” But
the spider was nowhere to be seen.
“What a pity he is gone,” murmured the Princess, “I did
so want to thank him.”
Walking quickly down the passage, they soon arrived at the door, but found,
as they expected, that it was securely locked.
“Well, now we will wait till to-night, when the witch will mount her
broomstick and fly to the moon,” said the Princess.
“Look!” cried Hop, “let us hide behind this boulder,
and then, when the witch opens the door, we will be able to slip out.” Having
settled themselves comfortably, they waited till evening. At last, in the
darkness they heard a shuffling noise, which told them the witch was approaching.
She struck a match, and, finding the latch of the door, unlocked it; but,
somehow, she dropped the key, and, as she was groping for it, the Princess
and the gnomes slipped through the open door, and went out into the night.
They had not gone very far when suddenly they heard a rustling in the bushes,
and our heroes’ beautiful forest friend of the day before stood before
them.
Her delight at seeing the Princess was great. She clapped her hands, skipped
about, and danced with Hip and Hop in turn, and then embraced the Princess,
while Hip and Hop related their adventures.
“And now,” said the Princess, when they had finished, “thanks
to you, I am free, and I can return to my father’s palace.”
“Oh! Princess, there is no need to thank us, for we would do much
more for you,” cried the two gnomes, “and we will always think
of you, dear lady.”
“You darlings,” cried the Princess, who was getting quite gay
at the prospect of going home, “I should like to marry you both, but
as I cannot do that, promise me that you will come and be my pages. Now promise
me—do.”
“Oh! yes, we promise, indeed we do,” cried they, dancing excitedly
round her. “Three cheers for the Princess and our Forest Friend—Hurrah!
hurrah! hurrah!”
Far in the depths of a green wood lived an old gnome, and so wise was he
that all the woodland sprites, the elves, the birds and the beasts went to
him for advice.
Now, it happened that all the inhabitants of the wood were kept in a constant
state of terror by a wicked dwarf, known by the name of “The Maker
of Troubles.”
Everything that went wrong was arranged by him. If the cream refused to
churn, you could thank him for it; if the fruit dropped off before it was
ripe, he had a hand in it; if a little frightened elf lost himself in the
wood, you may be sure that the dwarf had settled it carefully.
Well, one night, as the Wise Man of the Wood (for that was the name of the
old gnome) was reading quietly under the shade of a large oak, with his little
boy, Wonderkin, sitting opposite, one of the forest maidens came running
up crying and ringing her hands in grief.
“O-oh,” she cried, “my youngest sister caught her foot
in the chimney of the Maker of Troubles’ house, and fell right down
under the earth, for he lives underground, you know? And, as I stood still
in terror, I heard him say to her, as she fell thump on the floor, ‘Have
you hurt yourself?’
“‘Yes,’ answered my sister, ‘very much.’
“‘Good!’ replied the old wretch. ‘I arranged that
it should, and—’; but I did not hear any more, for I was so frightened
that I rushed away to see you.”
“Well,” said the gnome, as she finished, “I will think
it over; come back at this time to-morrow, and I will tell you my plan.”
“Very well,” replied the maiden, “I shall be here. Good-bye,” she
called, as she ran up a mossy bank and disappeared from view.
At the appointed time the next day the maiden visited the gnome.
“Well,” said he in his gruff voice, “I have thought of
a plan, a very good plan, too. The old dwarf has taken your sister far away
to one of his unknown haunts, so the old owl told me this morning, and my
plan is that you should go to the black pool, and wait there till the Maker
of Troubles passes. As soon as he sees you he will at once seize you, and
take you away to the place where he has hidden your sister. My little Wonderkin
will, of course, follow you to find where he takes you, and then he will
come back and tell me, and I will go at once and rescue you both. Now, what
do you think of my plan?”
“Oh! I think it is splendid,” cried the maiden, skipping about
and clapping her hands; “Wonderkin and I will go at once to the pool
and wait till he comes.”
Arrived at the pool, the two sat down, Wonderkin hiding under a large mushroom,
and the maiden sitting on the top.
At last the old dwarf came along, and, seeing the maiden, he immediately
seized her and bound her hands behind her back, and fixed a heavy chain around
her waist, and led her away. Wonderkin threw over himself a flimsy cloak
that his father had made, which rendered him invisible, and hurried after
them.
On and on they went. Now the track led down into a sunny valley, with fresh
green grass and a sparkling stream. The air was full of sweet music from
the throats of hundreds of bright birds that darted to and fro. Then suddenly
one little bird, as he flew along was pounced upon by a large hawk and carried
away.
“Good!” muttered the dwarf, “I arranged that carefully—I
arrange everything carefully,” he said, turning to the maiden, who
only looked proudly at him in answer.
The scenery began to grow wild and desolate. Huge rocks and boulders lay
scattered around, and rugged cliffs towered upwards to the sky, and still
the dwarf led the maiden on. At last, when suddenly turning the corner of
a projecting rock, they came upon what looked like a huge yellow stone, which
was the dwarf’s destination. When they came closer, Wonderkin noticed
that it was a gigantic cheese set on end.
To this the dwarf led the maiden. Arrived at the great yellow mass he took
off the maiden’s fetters, and opened a door in the side, and dragged
her in with him. The poor prisoner felt terribly afraid as she was led inside
the cheese, and placed in a dark room.
At last, as her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she made out the form
of her sister sitting dejectedly on the floor. Rushing to her, she embraced
her tenderly, kissing her the while.
Here let us leave them, and follow Wonderkin, who, as soon as he saw the
Maker of Troubles disappear into the cheese with the maiden, turned and set
off homewards. Just as the daylight was dying away, he arrived at his home,
and related to his father all that had happened.
“Well,” said the Wise Man, when he had finshed, “go and
get my axe, for we must go and smash up his home.” Wonderkin having
got the axe, they started away.
When they got to the dwarf’s house, they discovered him lying asleep
just outside the door. The Wise Man was delighted when he saw this, for he
had been longing to capture him.
He took out a large bottle from his pocket, and so huge was it that it was
a mystery how it had got there. He then drew out the stopper, and a little
puff of blue smoke curled upwards, floating away on the air. Then the Wise
Man seized the dwarf, and stuffed him into the bottle, and, as the blue smoke
was charmed, he grew smaller and smaller, till he fitted beautifully inside.
Then the gnome put the stopper in the bottle and laid it down; and the dwarf,
knowing nothing of this, slept on.
The Wise Man then cut a big hole in the back of the cheese. Having removed
the piece of wall, father and son entered. There they saw the two sisters
lying asleep on the floor. Little Wonderkin went forward and woke them up.
They all then went outside, and a strange sight met their view. The bottle
in which the dwarf was entrapped was swaying from side to side, and the little
man himself was springing up and down inside in a great rage, crying, “Let
me out; let me out.”
“Ha! ha!” laughed the Wise Man, “you arranged your own
capture very carefully indeed, didn’t you? ha! ha!” Despite his
earnest entreaties to be let out, they carried him away to the gnome’s
house, and there he was placed on a table and held up to ridicule.
The two maidens then went back to their home. When they arrived there they
found their eldest sister in a great state of alarm. For, on returning the
night before from a trip to the moon, she had found the house empty, and
her sisters gone.
After relating their adventures, the three retired to rest.
The next day, they set off to have another look at the dwarf. How their
eldest sister laughed when she saw him jumping up and down in the bottle,
foaming with rage, and crying hoarsely: “Oh! let me out; let me out.”
The Wise Man then sent invitations to all the forest folk to come and see
the Maker of Troubles, and hear how he was captured.
But that happened long, long ago, and the forest folk have never had any
trouble since. The Maker of Troubles is still in the bottle, but has long
since ceased to spring up and down, but sits quietly, gazing with sad eyes
on any who came to look at him.
Perhaps he is thinking of his misdeeds, and all the muddles he has made,
or, perhaps—but who can tell? I’m sure I cannot.
The forest grows more beautiful every day, and peace reigns over it, and
if you penetrate into its heart at midnight, you would see three beautiful
maidens dancing with a little boy.
Of course, I need not tell you who they are; but, perhaps, you would be
more satisfied if I did. They are the three forest sisters and little Wonderkin,
the son of the Wise Man of the Wood, and—well, that’s the end
of my story.
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