Part 12 (1/2)

”I will,” said the East Wind. ”But why have you put my brother from the South into the bag? Take him out again; I want him to tell me about the phnix, for the princess in the Garden of the World always asks after him when I pay her my visit every hundredth year.

Open the bag, there's a dear mammy, and I'll give you two pocketfuls of tea-leaves, all green and fresh, just as I plucked them from the bush on the spot where it grew.”

”Well, for the sake of the tea, and because you are mammy's own boy, I will open the bag.”

This she accordingly did, and out crept the South Wind, looking rather foolish, because the strange prince had witnessed his disgrace.

”There is a palm-tree leaf for the princess,” said the South Wind.

”The old phnix, the only bird of his sort in the wide world, gave me this leaf. He has traced upon it with his beak the whole history of his life during the hundred years that form its span. She may, therefore, be now enabled to read how the phnix set fire to his nest, and sat upon it as it was burning, like the widow of a Hindoo.

How the dried twigs did crackle! and what a smoke there was! At length out burst the flames: the old phnix was burnt to ashes, but an egg lay glowing hot in the fire. It burst with a loud report, and the young bird flew out; and now he is king over all the other birds, and the only phnix in the world. He has bitten a hole in the leaf which I gave you, and that is his way of sending his duty to the princess.”

”Now let us eat something,” said the mother of the Winds. And they all sat down to partake of the roast deer. The prince sat beside the East Wind; therefore, they soon became good friends.

”And pray what kind of a princess may she be whom you are talking so much about and where lies the Garden of the World?”

”Ho, ho!” said the East Wind. ”What! have you a mind to go there?

Well, you can fly over with me to-morrow, though I must tell you no mortal ever visited it before. It is inhabited by a fairy queen, and, in it lies the Island of Happiness, a lovely spot where death never intrudes. Get upon my back to-morrow, and I'll take you with me; for I think it can be managed. But now don't speak any more, for I want to sleep.”

And then to sleep they all went.

The prince awoke at an early hour next morning, and was not a little surprised on finding himself high above the clouds. He sat on the back of the East Wind, who was holding him faithfully; and they were so high in the air that forests, fields, rivers, and lakes lay beneath them like a painted map.

”Good morning!” said the East Wind. ”You might just as well have slept a bit longer, for there is not much to be seen in the flat country beneath us, except you have a mind to count the churches. They look like chalk dots on the green board.”

It was the fields and the meadows that he called the ”green board.”

”It was uncivil of me not to take leave of your mother and brothers,”

observed the prince.

”When one is asleep, one is to be excused,” replied the East Wind.

And they began to fly quicker than ever. When they swept across the tree-tops, you might have heard a rustling in all their leaves and branches. On the sea and on the lakes, wherever they flew, the waves rose higher and the large s.h.i.+ps dipped down into the water like swimming swans.

Towards evening, when it grew dark, the large towns looked beautiful.

They were dotted here and there with lights, much after the fas.h.i.+on of a piece of paper that has burned till it is black, when one sees all the little sparks going out one after another. The prince clapped his hands with delight, but the East Wind begged him to let such demonstrations alone, and rather attend to holding fast, or else he might easily fall down and remain dangling on a church steeple.

Fast as the eagle flew through the black forests, the East Wind flew still faster. The Cossack was scouring the plains on his little horse, but the prince soon outstripped him.

”You can now see Himalaya,” said the East Wind, ”the highest mountain in Asia--and now we shall soon reach the Garden of the World.” They then turned more southwards, and the air was soon perfumed with spices and flowers. Figs and pomegranates grew wild, and cl.u.s.ters of blue and red grapes hung from wild vines. They now descended to the earth, and reclined on the soft gra.s.s, where the flowers seemed to nod to the wind as though they had said--”Welcome!”

”Are we now in the Garden of the World?” asked the prince.

”No, indeed!” replied the East Wind; ”but we soon shall be. Do you see yon wall of rocks, and that broad cavern, where the vines hang down like a huge green curtain? That's the road through which we must pa.s.s.

Wrap yourself in your mantle, for burning hot as the sun is just hereabout, it is as cold as ice a few steps farther. The bird who flies past the cavern feels one wing to be in the warm summer abroad while the other is in the depth of winter.”

”So then this seems to be the way to the Garden of the World?” asked the prince.

They now entered the cavern. Oh, how icy cold it was! Only it did not last long. The East Wind spread out his wings, and they beamed like the brightest fire. But what a cavern it was, to be sure! The huge blocks of stone from which the water kept dripping down, hung over them in the oddest shapes, sometimes narrowing up till they were obliged to creep on all-fours, at other times widening into an expanse as lofty as though situated in the open air. It looked like a chapel for the dead, with petrified organs and dumb organ-pipes.

”We seem to be crossing through an abode of Death to reach the Garden of the World!” said the prince. But the East Wind did not answer a syllable, and merely pointed forwards where the loveliest blue light met their eyes. The blocks of stone above their heads rolled away into a mist that finished by a.s.suming the shape of a white cloud on a moonlight night. They were now in a most delightfully mild atmosphere, as cool as the mountain breeze, and as perfumed as a valley of roses.