Part 5 (1/2)

Now when the last of the fleet had disappeared below the horizon the people of the Dark Wood kingdom went mad with joy; and the Wizard was escorted to the palace by all the army. The Princess Myrtle and Prince Merlin met him at the entrance to the throne-room, and pages scattered flowers beneath his feet.

”O Wise Man,” cried the Princess, ”how shall we reward thee for thy wisdom?”

”Only children crave rewards,” replied the Wizard. ”It will be pleasure enough for me to return to my little hut and to hear the woodp.e.c.k.e.rs in the eaves; and to see the white owls fly when the stars glow above the dark forest branches.”

Now the Military Commander was the only person in the kingdom who was not sharing the general joy. He was grumpy because he had lost all the honor of winning a b.l.o.o.d.y battle. Even the sight of all his army alive and well could not soothe the wound to his vanity; so when the Princess and the Wizard were exchanging the last courtesies, he strode forward, bowed, and said:

”Your Highness, this invisible wall is all very well, but how will our people reach the seacoast through this perpetual barrier? Can this mighty Wizard destroy what he has erected?”

Then all the court looked at the Wizard, who asked to be led at once to the great concourse where the people were a.s.sembled. ”This is a question to be settled by the nation and not by the court,” he averred.

So the knights and ladies moved like living flowers to the concourse where the people were a.s.sembled--the pure grain of the kingdom. And the Wizard called in a loud voice to them, ”Men and women, is it your will that your good deeds be destroyed or remain in everlasting remembrance?

For this wall will never keep any true soul from the sea, nor any honest man; but he that is a rogue will beat in vain against it!”

Then the people shouted, ”We will keep this wall which we have built with our good deeds.”

So the wall stood forever, but the Wizard journeyed home, and knew the joy of the tired traveler who sees his own little nook again. That night he ate his bread and drank his draught of water on his own doorstone; and watched the white owls fly, hoping that Wisdom would let him be quiet awhile in the arms of the forest before she sent him out again to teach the restless hearts of men.

THE TREE IN THE DARK WOOD

In the kingdom of the Princess Myrtle were many forests cut through with roaring streams which dashed and danced their way over immense s.h.i.+ning black bowlders that looked like ebony bears lying in the current. So high were the trees of these woods that they shut out the sun, and he who walked through them felt himself among the columns of a gigantic temple.

In the darkest wood of all people sometimes lost their way on bitter nights when the white stars hung just above the tree-tops and the frost-fairies filled the air with the little snaps and crackles of their orchestra--the queer, marred music of winter. The reddening of dawn found these poor adventurers frozen unless they had the good fortune to find what all the countryside knew as ”The Tree in the Dark Wood.”

The whispers of generations had established the fact of the existence of this tree since the hour when the woodcutter, Peter Garland, had wandered too far into the forest, and had been benighted on the feast of St. Stephen when the air sometimes sings with snow. He had become half paralyzed with the cold, his poor lantern had gone out, and he was about to say his last prayers thinking he would never live until morning, when suddenly, in the midst of the whirling snow, he saw extended the limbs of a most beautiful tree. It was not so tall as the others, and s.h.i.+ning fruit of a delicious appearance hung upon its branches amidst its thick foliage.

Best of all, poor, half-frozen Peter felt a wonderful warmth glowing from its trunk, and with the warmth came a soft crimson light; so he stole up to it as if he were a little boy and this tree were his beautiful Mother; and he cuddled down in the arms of its great roots and went to sleep.

When he woke up it was morning; and the sun was turning the surface of the snow into sheets of iridescent light. He yawned and stretched out his arms, then remembering his wonderful rescue of the evening before, he gazed upward, but saw only a tall pine tree with s.h.i.+ning brownish cones pendant from its branches. Where was the beautiful green summer-tree hung with crimson fruit? Where was the light like the sun's rays through painted gla.s.s?

”But here am I alive and warm,” thought Peter. ”And the night was bitter.

This tree must change its shape at the footfall of evening; and I will mark it, lest it should be lost to us.”

So taking out his knife he cut three crosses in the bark of the tree; then setting his face to the sun, for his cottage lay to the east of the Dark Wood, he hacked the trees all along the way; and at last emerged in the path which led to his dwelling. His wife and all the neighbors, who had given him up for dead, came running to meet him with cries of joy; but when he told them what had happened they tapped their foreheads and glanced at each other. ”Poor man,” they said, ”the frost-king hath stolen his wits.”

”But I marked the tree with three crosses,” he cried, ”and I can lead you straight to it.”

They laughed, but to humor him they said he might take them to his wonderful tree after dinner, when hot soup had given them all courage; so that afternoon there was a long procession of people trudging through the Dark Wood with Peter at their head. By the time he arrived at the tree he was trembling like a leaf with excitement. There, sure enough, stood a tall pine-tree marked with the three crosses, but it was otherwise in no way different from its fellows. ”Yes, but wait for evening; then you will see it change,” said Peter.

They laughed a little and grumbled a little; but most of them had filled their lanterns and brought bread and cheese against a hungry time, and after all, it was not so cold in the forest, for the North Wind with his blue ballooned cheeks could not blow hard down those long avenues. Peter was full of excitement, for he was sure that the tree would become magical as soon as the sun set.

When the last splashes of crimson had faded from the topmost boughs he began anxiously to watch the tree about which all the villagers had seated themselves in a circle after first sc.r.a.ping the snow from the dead leaves. Darker and darker grew the air, and brighter the stars, while far off in the forest the great cats began to talk to each other, and the owls hooted and flew. Suddenly Peter gave a cry of joy. ”See! See! the wonderful fruit, the glowing leaves!”

”Nonsense!” said his wife. ”O, poor loon, he will never be right again!”

and she began to weep into her ap.r.o.n.

”It is true! It is true!” cried another voice, that of hard-worked Bennie Brown, who supported an old father and mother and a crippled sister by his labors.