{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_68292/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_68292","id":"gutenberg_68292","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68292","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Indian mythology -- South America -- Juvenile literature","Indians of South America -- Folklore -- Juvenile literature","Legends -- South America -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"[Cover Illustration]\n\n                      [Illustration: Frontispiece]\n\n\n\n\n                              TALES _from_\n                              SILVER LANDS\n\n                                  _by_\n                           CHARLES J. FINGER\n\n                              WOODCUTS BY\n                              PAUL HONOR\u00c9\n\n                        GARDEN CITY    NEW YORK\n                       DOUBLEDAY & COMPANY, INC.\n                                  1957\n\n\n\n\n                                   CL\n\n                          COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY\n                          DOUBLEDAY & COMPANY\n\n                          ALL RIGHTS RESERVED\n\n                PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA\n\n\n\n\n                          TO THE GOLDEN HEARTED\n                              CARL SANDBURG\n                       AND HIS FRIENDS, MY CHILDREN\n                            HELEN AND HERBERT\n\n\n\n\n                                 CONTENTS\n\n         CHAPTER                                             PAGE\n               I A TALE OF THREE TAILS.....................     1\n              II THE MAGIC DOG.............................    14\n             III THE CALABASH MAN..........................    23\n              IV NA-HA THE FIGHTER.........................    35\n               V THE HUMMING-BIRD AND THE FLOWER...........    43\n              VI THE MAGIC BALL............................    48\n             VII EL ENANO..................................    59\n            VIII THE HERO TWINS............................    69\n              IX THE FOUR HUNDRED..........................    79\n               X THE KILLING OF CABRAKAN...................    92\n              XI THE TALE OF THE GENTLE FOLK...............    99\n             XII THE TALE THAT COST A DOLLAR...............   107\n            XIII THE MAGIC KNOT............................   122\n             XIV THE BAD WISHERS...........................   134\n              XV THE HUNGRY OLD WITCH......................   143\n             XVI THE WONDERFUL MIRROR......................   156\n            XVII THE TALE OF THE LAZY PEOPLE...............   170\n           XVIII RAIRU AND THE STAR MAIDEN.................   188\n             XIX THE CAT AND THE DREAM MAN.................   197\n\n\n\n\n                                WOODCUTS\n\n         One day there came to their house a man\n           in a torn poncho....................... _Frontispiece_\n\n                                                             PAGE\n         When the first snow commenced to fall she was\n           always full of glee, standing on a rock,\n           screaming like a wind-gale......................    48\n         He took flat pieces of wood and began cutting out\n           figures like little men.........................   176\n         Soon, to his astonishment he saw, close at hand, a\n           beautiful city..................................   194\n\n\n\n\n                              TALES _from_\n                              SILVER LANDS\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n                       TALES  FROM  SILVER  LANDS\n\n\n\n\n                         A TALE OF THREE TAILS\n\n\nDOWN in Honduras there is a town called Pueblo de Chamelec\u00f3n which is\nnot much of a town after all. There is only one street in it, and the\nhouses are like big beehives that have been squared up, and the roofs\nare of straw. There is no sidewalk, no roadway, and the houses are\nunfenced, so that you step from the room into the sandy street and,\nbecause of the heat, when you are inside you wish that you were out, and\nwhen you are outside you wish that you were in. So the children of the\nplace spend much time down at the little river. At least they did when I\nwas there.\n\nI rode there on a donkey and, the day being hot, let the animal graze,\nor sleep, or think, or dream, or work out problems\u2014or whatever it is\nthat a donkey does with his spare time\u2014and I watched the children in\nthe water. There was one, a little baby just able to toddle around, who\ncrawled down to the water\u2019s edge, rolled in and swam about like a little\ndog, much as the babies of Tierra del Fuego will swim in the icy waters\nof the Far South. He came out on my side of the water, as lively as a\ngrig, smiling every bit as friendly as any other little chap of his age,\nwhite, brown, or yellow.\n\nI stayed there that night because the day did not get cool and in the\nevening the people sat outside of their houses and played the guitar and\nsang. Now I had with me a little musical instrument like a tiny organ,\nwhich I bought in France, and it was so compact and handy that I could\ncarry it everywhere as easily as I could a blanket. In fact, I used to\nride with it behind my saddle, wrapped in my bedding. Well, as the\npeople seemed to like their music, I brought out mine, so we had a very\njolly concert, in spite of my poor voice, which they politely pretended\nnot to notice. Then later, from curiosity, the children came about me\nand, to amuse them as well as myself, having done so badly at the\nsinging, I did a few tricks with wads of rolled paper and a couple of\ntin cups, and the little boy who had swum across the pond laughed as\nloudly as any one there. That pleased his father mightily, so much\nindeed that he brought me a cup of goat\u2019s milk and some cassava bread\nand told me that I was a fine fellow. To please me further, he sang a\nvery, very long song. It was all about the parrot and the wonderful\nthings it did, a parrot that had lived long among people and learned\ntheir songs, and when the bird flew back to the forest, it still sang,\nand so well that all the other parrots in the forest learned to sing the\nsong from beginning to end. But what was curious was that at the end of\nevery other verse, there was this line:\n\n               When the rat had a tail like a horse.\n\nSo when he had done I asked him about that, for all the rats I had seen\nhad tails which were far from beautiful, according to my notion.\n\nThe man listened gravely, then said: \u201cBut certainly, once the rat had a\ntail like a horse.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen was that?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cWhen the rabbit had a tail like a cat,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cBut I am still puzzled,\u201d I told him. \u201cWas it long ago?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was when the deer\u2019s tail was plumed like the tail of a dog,\u201d he told\nme.\n\nAs we talked, a kind of polite silence was upon all the people gathered\nabout us; then a very, very old woman who was smoking a cigar nodded her\nhead and said: \u201cBut Tio Ravenna is right. It was in the days of Hunbatz,\nwho lived on beetles and spiders, and I heard it from my mother\u2019s\nmother, and she from the mother of her mother.\u201d Then the old woman went\non smoking with her eyes closed, and all who were there nodded at one\nanother, thinking, I suppose, that the old grandmother would presently\ntell the story. But of course, they who knew her well were wiser than to\nask her to tell the Tale of Three Tails, so every one waited.\n\nPresently, a little girl gave the old grandmother a piece of sugar and\nasked: \u201cWas it two brothers, or three, who had to clear the great\nforest? I am not sure.\u201d\n\nAt that the little old lady\u2019s eyes were bright and she threw away her\ncigar and said:\n\n\u201cTwo brothers. That I have told you before.\u201d After a little sigh, which\nwas only pretending that she was weary of telling the tale, she said:\n\u201cYou know that I have told it to you before, and it is wrong that I\nshould have to tell it so often. But you see this.\u201d\n\nSo saying, she took from her bosom, where she had it fastened to a silk\nthread, a little piece of jade and let us see it. It was broken from a\nlarger piece, but we could make out on it a carving which I saw to be a\ndeer with a tail like a sheep dog\u2019s. We passed it about and every one\nlooked at it carefully, although certainly all of them must have seen it\ntime and time again, and when it came to the old grandmother again she\nreplaced it and told us the Tale of Three Tails, just as I have written\nit here.\n\n                 *        *        *        *        *\n\nOnce, long ago, the rat had a beautiful tail like a horse, with long\nsweeping hairs, though it was before my time of life. It was in the days\nof old Hunbatz, and he was a wizard who lived in the dark of the great\nforest that used to be on the other side of the big river. In those days\nthings were not as now and animals were different; some larger, some\nsmaller. The deer, as you have seen on the stone I showed you, had a\ntail like a dog, and the rabbit\u2019s tail was long and furry like the tail\nof a cat.\n\nNow in that land there was a hunter with whom neither lasso nor arrow\never failed, and he had two sons, beautiful to look at and brave of\nheart, stout and quick of foot. Not only did the brothers work better\nthan any men had ever worked, but they could play ball and sing,\nthrowing the ball higher than birds could fly, and singing in a way that\nbrought the wild things to hear them. Nor was there living creature able\nto run as swiftly as the two brothers. The birds alone could outrace\nthem.\n\nThe brothers being grown, their father thought that it was time for them\nto make a home for themselves, so chose a place on the farther side of\nthe forest, and told them to clear it, which, he said, could be done in\nseven days. It was no little forest, you must remember, but a vast\nplace, where sunlight never pierced, and the roots of trees were like\ngreat ropes; a jungle that stretched for miles and miles and the tangle\nin it was so thick that a monkey could barely get through without\nsqueezing. Deep in the forest there was a blackness like the blackness\nof night. The trunks of the trees were so large that three men holding\nhands could not circle them and where there were no trees, there were\nvines and snakelike lianas and thorn-bushes and flowers so great that a\nman could lie down to sleep in the shade of them.\n\nThe first day the brothers took a great space, piling the trees at one\ncorner, clearing the tangle and leaving all as smooth as the water of a\nlake. They sang as they worked, and they sang as they rested in the heat\nof the day, and the organ bird and the flute bird answered them from the\ngold-green shade. So pleasant was their music that the old iguana,\nthough he was as big as a man, came from his resting place in the trees\nto listen.\n\nSeeing how things were going, old Hunbatz in the dark of the forest grew\nvery angry, fearing that his hiding place would soon dwindle and vanish.\nSo he went to the great gray owl, his friend, and they talked the matter\nover between them. The owl told Hunbatz that he must set the father\u2019s\nheart against the brothers, telling him that the boys were lazy and\ninstead of working spent their time in playing with the ball and in\nsinging.\n\n\u201cGo,\u201d said the owl, \u201cto their father, and when he asks how the lads fare\nwith their work, say to him:\n\n                      They sing and they play\n                      For half of the day.\n\nIt may fall out that he will grow angry and cut off their heads, and\nthus the forest will be safe for us.\u201d\n\nThat seemed to the wizard to be good advice, and before the close of the\nday\u2019s work, old Hunbatz, who could fly by flapping his hands in a\ncertain way like a swimmer, cast himself into the air and flew with\ngreat swiftness to the place where the father lived. But he took care to\ndress himself like a woodman.\n\n\u201cWell met,\u201d said the father, seeing Hunbatz, but thinking him no wizard\nof course. \u201cFrom where do you come?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom the other side of the forest,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cThen perchance you saw my two sons who are clearing the forest,\u201d said\nthe father.\n\n\u201cI did,\u201d said Hunbatz.\n\n\u201cAnd how are the boys doing?\u201d asked the father.\n\nAt that old Hunbatz shook his head sadly and answered, as the owl had\ntold him:\n\n                      \u201cThey sing and they play\n                      For half of the day.\u201d\n\nThat, you know, was quite untrue, for while they sang, there was no\nstopping of work, and as for the play, it is true that they threw the\nball from one to the other, but so clever were they that one would throw\nthe ball so high that it would take hours and hours before it came down\nagain, and of course, while it was in the air, the brothers went on\nworking.\n\n\u201cI would cut off their heads to teach them a lesson,\u201d said Hunbatz, \u201cif\nthey were sons of mine.\u201d Then he turned on his heel and went away, not\nflying until he was out of the father\u2019s sight, for he did not wish any\nman to know that he was a wizard.\n\nTo be sure, the good man was grieved and his face clouded, when he heard\nthe tale of Hunbatz, but he said nothing, and, a short time after, the\nbrothers came home. He was much surprised when, asking the lads how much\nwork they had done that day, they told him that they had cleared off the\nspace of forest he had bidden them to. After much thought he told them\nthat the next day they would have to do twice as much as before. The\nbrothers thought the new task hard, but they went to work with a good\nwill and on the second day the trees fell like corn before a man with a\nmachete, and before night they had finished that which they had been\ngiven to do.\n\nAgain old Hunbatz flew through the air to the father and tried to set\nhim against the boys, and again that night, when the boys were home,\ntheir task was set for the next day twice as much as the day before.\n\nIt was the same the third day, and the fourth, until at last the boys\ncame to a point where by the mightiest working they could not move a\nstick or a blade of grass more. And yet, because of old Hunbatz, the\nfather set them a task still greater.\n\nOn the fifth day things looked very hopeless for the boys, and their\nhearts were sad as they looked at the forest and saw the task that their\nfather had set them to do. They went to work feeling for the first time\nit would be impossible for the sun to go down on their finished task,\nand the heart of old Hunbatz was glad. But the birds in the forest were\nsilent that morning, for they too knew that there were sad hearts in the\nbrothers. Even the grasshoppers and the mosquitoes and the bees were\nstill, and as for the boys, not a note of joy could they raise.\n\nThen to them came the iguana, wise old lizard who knew everything that\nwent on in the forest, and as soon as he had heard what the brothers had\nto say he smiled and called on them to listen, after making sure that\nthere was no living creature to hear except the birds, for of them he\nhad no fear, knowing that the birds tell no secrets.\n\n\u201cBe cheerful,\u201d said the iguana, \u201cand I will tell you a charm. It is\nthis: mark about the handles of your working tools rings of black,\nwhite, red, and green, and before you start to work, sing:\n\n                       I must do what I can,\n                       Is the thought of a man,\n\nand if your hearts are brave, you will see what happens.\u201d\n\nHaving said this and smiled on the brothers, the old iguana climbed into\na tree and stretched himself along the branch of it where he could best\nsee, and the birds gathered in a great circle, a matchless melody going\nup to the sky.\n\nSo the brothers took their axes, their spades, their hoes, and their\nmachetes, and painted about the handles of them rings of black and of\nwhite and of red and of green, and their voices rang sweet and clear as\nthey sang, as the iguana had told them:\n\n                       \u201cI must do what I can,\n                       Is the thought of a man.\u201d\n\nNo sooner had the last words passed than the whole company of birds\nbroke out into a chorus, singing, chattering, chirping, whistling,\nscreaming, each according to its manner and, without hands touching\nthem, axes went to work cutting down trees, machetes chopped at lianas\nand vines, spades cleared and dug; and trees, bushes, and weeds piled\nthemselves in great heaps at the edge of the clearing, so that in less\nthan an hour the whole task was done. Then it was that all things in the\nforest were glad and the good iguana smiled broadly. The very monkeys\njoined in and, catching the ball which the brothers threw, tossed it\nfrom tree to tree until it passed through the whole jungle and back\nagain.\n\nBut old Hunbatz was angry beyond measure, so angry that he whirled about\non his heels three hundred times, turning so rapidly that he looked like\na storm cloud, and his long whiskers were tangled about him like a\nmantle. But the faster he whirled, the more his anger boiled, and,\nflapping his hands, he shot into the air, going so swiftly that his very\nclothes were scorched.\n\n\u201cHow are the boys?\u201d asked the father, when Hunbatz stood before him.\n\nFor answer, Hunbatz screamed: \u201cYour boys are idle fellows!\n\n                      They sing and they play\n                      For half of the day.\n\nHad I such sons, I would cut their heads off to teach them a lesson.\u201d\n\nSaid the father: \u201cTo-morrow I shall go to the forest, and if you have\nnot spoken truth, then this arrow which has never yet missed a mark\nshall find one in your heart. But if it is as you say, then my sons\nshall feel my anger.\u201d\n\nOld Hunbatz did not like that at all, for well he knew that the hunter\u2019s\narrows were never wasted. So back he flew to the owl and the two of them\nwhispered together. That night there was a great gathering of the\nanimals: of the hare, the deer, the rat, the jaguar, the puma, the\nopossum, and many others. The rat, the deer, and the rabbit led them,\nand in a wonderfully short time, not only were all things restored and\nthe work of the day undone, but the trees and the bushes and the vines\nand the lianas that had been moved on the other days were put back in\ntheir old places, growing and blooming, so that all was as though the\nbrothers had never been at the forest at all.\n\nSad was the hour the next morning when the hunter came with his two sons\nand saw the forest as though hand had never touched it. The brothers\ncould not believe their eyes. Grinning from the thick of a rubber tree\nwas the face of Hunbatz, and on his shoulder was the owl. For a moment\nthe father thought to cut off the heads of the lads to teach them a\nlesson, but on second thought he told them that he would give them\nanother chance.\n\n\u201cWhat should have been done is not done,\u201d he said. \u201cI will grant you a\nday and a night to clear all the forest as you told me it was cleared.\nTo-morrow morning I will come again, and see whether all is well done.\u201d\nAt that he left them and went his way.\n\nNo sooner had he gone than the two brothers went to see the iguana, who\ntold them of the witchery of the owl and Hunbatz and bade them to act as\nbefore. So they made the ring about the handles of their working tools\nonce more and sang:\n\n                       \u201cI must do what I can,\n                       Is the thought of a man,\u201d\n\nand, as on the day before, axes, machetes, and spades went to work and\nin a short time all was clear again. Then the iguana told the brothers\nof the evil that Hunbatz had done and bade them set traps and keep watch\nthat night. So three traps were made and set, and when night fell, from\nall parts of the forest there came animals led by the rat, the deer, and\nthe rabbit, and old Hunbatz and the owl watched from the dark caves of\nthe leaves.\n\nNo sooner had the first three animals stepped into the clearing than\nthey were caught fast in the traps, whereupon the rest of the animals\nturned and fled. Then the brothers rushed to the traps. The rabbit gave\na great jump when he felt the jaws close upon his beautiful catlike\ntail, but it was chopped off close to the body. The deer, with his tail\nlike a plume, fared no better. So both deer and rabbit fled to the woods\nashamed, and, as you see for yourself, have had no tails ever since. As\nfor the rat, he was far too wise to jump as the rabbit and deer had\ndone. But seeing the brothers coming, he pulled and pulled and pulled so\nthat all the beautiful hair was stripped, leaving him with but a bare\nand ugly thing of a tail as you see to-day.\n\nThe next morning when the hunter-father came, there was the forest\ncleared and all in good order as the boys had said. So he sought out old\nHunbatz, who flapped his hands and flew for very fear. But so fast he\nwent that his clothes were burnt off, and his skin was baked into a hard\ncrust by the great heat, and he fell to the earth and so became what we\ncall an armadillo. As for the two brothers, they lived very happily for\nmany, many years, and things went well with them and the land they lived\nin was a land of good harvest and fruit trees.\n\nSo now you know the Tale of Three Tails and if you do not believe it,\nlook at the rat and the deer and the rabbit and the armadillo, and see\nfor yourself.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                             THE MAGIC DOG\n\n\nDOWN where the forest is so thick that the sun rarely pierces the leafy\nroof, where there are mosses and ferns and little plants of the\nbrightest green, where parrots screech and thousands of little monkeys\nchatter in the trees, there stands a great white temple. Once, long ago,\nthere was joy and gladness there, and flower-crowned people danced and\nsang, but now vines hang about the doors and window holes and there are\ntall rank weeds in the courtyard. Still, it is even now very beautiful,\nthough sad to see.\n\nLong years before this temple was built, there lived a king, and his\npeople loved him, and he on his part loved not only his people, but\nevery flower that grew, every grass blade and every leaf on bush and\ntree. Where he came from, none knew, but there were those who said that\nhe had come from the sea, not in a ship with men, but alone, in a great\nand beautiful sea-shell. So they called him, in their own tongue, The\nKing Who Came in a Sea-shell. And when he went about among his people he\nwore a headdress of gold-green feathers, a feather cloak of turquoise\nblue, and about his middle was a golden belt set with glittering\nprecious stones. On his feet were golden sandals and in his hand he bore\na great spear of silver. The spear he carried for a sign only, for there\nwas no fighting in those days, and it was a time when all went very\nwell. Every one had enough to eat and to drink and to wear, so that none\nhad to worry about the day to come. Men loved diamonds and emeralds and\nrubies for their beauty, and just as they loved the sight of the tiny\nrainbow in a sparkling dew drop. As for other things, corn grew so large\nthat a single ear was as much as a man could carry and cotton grew not\nonly white, as we see it now, but red and blue and yellow and scarlet\nand black and orange and violet and green.\n\nIt was the daughter of the Sea-shell King who had taught the people how\nto grow coloured cotton, and she, with her silky cloud of hair, was the\nmost beautiful creature ever seen. When she walked about, the air was\nsweet with wonderful perfume, birds sang with joy as though their\nthroats would burst, and slim drooping ferns nodded a welcome.\n\nThe story of the beauty and goodness of the maiden ran through all the\nland, and young men who sought her hand came from far and wide. So many\nwere her suitors that a day was set apart each week, when all the people\ngathered to see the young men display their powers or their gifts or\ntheir clevernesses. Some would shoot with the bow and others cast the\nlasso. Singers sang the songs they had made and musicians played their\nflutes so well that the slender boughs bent to listen. There were gifts,\ntoo, and some brought rare stones cut into the shapes of birds and\nanimals and flowers, but not one man had touched the heart of the\nprincess, though she was gracious to all.\n\nNow before the king came, an evil creature of a witch had ruled the\nland, and she had come from the Land of the Shaking Mud. Somehow, the\nSea-shell King had driven her away and, that she should worry his people\nno more, he had set a boundary, and guards were on watch day and night\nto prevent her in her mischief. So she spent the day in her cave, coming\nout only at night to prowl about the boundary, and then only when there\nwas no moon. Her name was Tlapa.\n\nOne day there came to the king a man in rags, who said that his name was\nMaconahola, and the king was glad to see him, the more so because age\nwas creeping upon the king, and he sought someone wise and brave enough\nto rule in his place. But no sooner had the princess looked at the\nstranger than she cast down her eyes, saying that he had the face of the\nman she had seen in a dream. When the king asked her questions, she said\nthat in her dream she had followed the stranger about, had slept at his\nfeet, had tended his fields and made his clothes. At that her father was\ngreatly astonished, for that his daughter should be the servant of a man\nwho came clad in rags seemed strange indeed.\n\nThe second day, Maconahola was asked if he bore gifts, but he showed his\nempty hands. Then, to the end that no idle or useless man should be in\nthat land, a time was set and Maconahola was ordered to appear before\nthe young men and compete with them. At the test Maconahola stood very\nwell. When the best bowman sent his arrow into the exact centre of the\nmark, Maconahola drew his bow and aimed so carefully that his arrow\nsplit the arrow of the other man. Nor was he less skilful with the\nlasso, casting his loop so that it fell about the smallest thing aimed\nat. It was much the same when the swiftest runner was brought. To be\nsure, he ran like a deer, but Maconahola ran like the wind, leaving him\nfar behind. As for the singing contest, when the stranger sang the very\nbirds were hushed and, the song being finished, a great quetzal with\njet-black wings, a scarlet breast, and head and back of gold-green\nfeathers, flew down and sat on the shoulder of Maconahola.\n\nThen a great shout went up, and all the bowmen, the lasso throwers, the\nrunners, and the singers came forward and greeted Maconahola, for there\nwas no jealousy in that land, nor was there envy, and each had it in his\nmind to strive for that which seemed best, caring nothing for\nself-advancement. As for the king, being very old and tired, he was glad\nindeed to find a man who might become ruler in his place. So he stepped\ndown from his high place and cast his coat made of a thousand turquoise\nfeathers about the stranger\u2019s shoulders. All went very well indeed, and\nthe princess was happy to have found the man of her dreams, and the two\nof them loved all things, so that all things embraced and loved them.\n\nBut Tlapa, the witch with long crooked nails and black teeth and\nice-like eyes, learned of all this from the bats. Loving evil, and war,\nand violence, she was angry that another should come into the land to\nrule when the old king died, for she had long waited for the breath to\npass from his body so that she might rule again. Seeing how the people\ngreeted Maconahola, she became tight-lipped and slit-eyed. One night she\nwent to Roraima, a place of rocks, where lived a wild man of terrible\nstrength who sat in his cave all day, crouched over a fire of smoking\ngreen wood. Over the cave fire Tlapa and the wild man whispered long and\nlong, while bats flapped and fluttered and white worms crawled close to\nlisten, for they plotted how to dispose of Maconahola. The wild man was\nall for dashing into the country, trampling down the guards that stood\nin his way, and beating the stranger with his great club of long, blunt\nthorns. But that Tlapa would not hear of, knowing that Maconahola could\nshoot an arrow that would speedily put an end to the wild man of the\nrocks. Far more crafty was she, remembering and telling the wild man of\na strange plant that grew in the gloomy depths of a forest far away,\nwhere, because of the tangled thicket, she could never go.\n\nNo sooner had the wild man learnt of the strange plant than he sprang to\nhis feet and with great bounds went crashing through the forest,\noverturning trees that stood in his way, upsetting huge rocks, splashing\nthrough swamps, and climbing a rocky precipice like a wild cat until he\ncame to the place where grew the evil weed. He was back again in his\ncave before midnight. Taking the weed, Tlapa dried it over a fire of\nrotten wood and crushed it into powder. The powder she cast into the air\nand, carried by the wind, it fell where the king\u2019s people lived.\nWherever it fell, wherever it touched, there grew hate and suspicion,\njealousy and greed. Where the dust fell on plant or flower, though there\nwas but the slightest fleck of it, there was immediately a withering and\na dying; the very corn shrivelled and shrunk. Where had been flowers,\nthere grew in a single night dense, thorny tangle. The very weather\nchanged and the pleasant cool passed away, so that the days were hot and\nthe nights icy cold. Some men, touched with a strange greed, laid claim\nto great tracts of earth, bidding others begone, and so for the first\ntime in that land men quarrelled and fought. Even the old king changed a\nlittle and, seeing the trouble that had come upon his land, was\npersuaded to believe that Maconahola was the cause.\n\nWord passed from mouth to mouth and whispering tongues poisoned truth,\nand when Maconahola took his walks, grieving to see the withered flowers\nand fruits, people hid from his gaze. Thoughts passed to words and words\nto deeds, and one day a crowd turned on Maconahola and with sticks and\nstones drove him across the border and into a forest where, except for\nthe cry of a distant bird, it was still as midnight.\n\nSad at heart, Maconahola built a little shelter of branches and leaves\nand day after day wandered alone. Nor had he living company until one\nday there came to him a dog, footsore and thin. The creature was hungry\nand weak and thorn-torn, and Maconahola took it in, washed and tended it\nand shared with it his meal. And a poor enough meal it was being of\nsmall berries and drops of tree gum and little roots.\n\nIn the morning when he went down to the stream to bathe, the dog did not\nfollow him, and on his return, to his vast astonishment, he found in\nfront of his house a field with growing corn and many food plants. It\nhad grown up in less than an hour. So that evening he was full of\ngladness, and with his dog walked about in full enjoyment of the\nbeautiful green earth, thankful for the humming bees and the gentle wind\nthat moved the leaves, thankful for the only living creature that was\nwith him.\n\nOn the next day when he returned from his stream, having left the dog\nsleeping in the sun, he found that his little bower of branches and\nleaves had been transformed to a house with furnishings all simple,\nclean, and bright. And around it were glorious flowers and fruits, and\nin the trees birds sang, and humming-birds, looking like flashing\nemeralds, darted through the leaves. So again his heart was full of joy\nand thankfulness.\n\nThe third day he made as if to go to the river, but instead turned and\nhid himself behind the house to watch. Then he saw the wonder, for the\ndog threw off its skin and there stood the beautiful maiden whom he had\nknown as the king\u2019s daughter. At once she set about making garments of\ncoloured cotton for him, and so rapidly she wrought that they fell from\nher hands like flower petals. Then she busied herself weaving a hammock\nof silk grass.\n\nMaconahola made no sign, but went down to the river as usual and when he\nreturned the dog ran to meet him, thrusting its moist nose into his\nhand. But the next day again he hid, and again the dog cast off its skin\nand the princess went to the garden, and to her came a cloud of humming\nbirds. Swiftly Maconahola ran to the dogskin, picked it up and threw it\ninto the fire, where it burned like dry leaves. Then the princess saw\nwhat had been done and gave a great cry of joy for the spell was broken;\nand Maconahola knew a fresh vigour of soul.\n\nHand in hand, they returned to the land, and the old king seeing them\ncoming went out to meet them. And all the people were with him,\noverjoyed that Maconahola had returned, seeing the evil that had come\nupon them had not been removed with his departure. Overjoyed, too, were\nthey to see the princess again, for none knew to what place she had\ngone, knowing only that she had vanished one evening, and at the same\ntime a dog had run swiftly through their midst. For certainly, Tlapa the\nwitch had laid some enchantment upon her with evil design. But evil,\nthough it may touch the good, cannot for ever bind it, wherefore the\nmaiden resumed her own form some part of every day.\n\nThere was a great meeting of all the people then, and Maconahola lost no\ntime in seeking out the witch Tlapa, whom he killed with a silver\npointed arrow shot through her heart. As for the wild man of Roraima, it\nis said that learning of the death of the witch, he dashed away in great\nterror and, sinking in the Shaking Mud, was seen no more. But the King\nof the Sea-shell made Maconahola a ruler, and on the spot where the\nbower had been built and where he first saw the dog there was erected\nthe temple of white stone which you may see for yourself to this day if\nyou go to Orinoco.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                            THE CALABASH MAN\n\n\nTHERE was once a woman who had an only son, and they lived in great\ncontentment in a little house by the side of the lake and at the foot of\na mountain. If you go to Guiana, you may see both lake and mountain to\nthis day.\n\nIn all that land there was no lad so straight, so tall, so graceful as\nAura, and, what is better still, he was kind and gentle. At the close of\nthe day when he came from his fishing, he and his mother would sit in\nthe cool of the evening, watching the glory of the sunset and listening\nto the music of the silver cascade which fell from the mountain into the\nlake. Often the forest animals would come and play about before their\nhouse. The lively little agouti would sport with the black jaguar and\nthe great armadillo would let the coral snake coil on his shell, while\nbirds of wondrous beauty flashed through the leaves of the trees like\nliving fire. Great butterflies with silky white and green wings\nfluttered about the flowers showing their beauty, and from them the old\nmother learned the way to weave bright designs into the hammocks that\nshe made of silk grass. At such times, before the sun dropped into its\npurple bed of cloud, and before the million glowworms lit their lights,\nthe queen ant would sing:\n\n                       \u201cFrom forest and hill\n                       We come at your will.\n                       Call, Aura, call!\u201d\n\nAll went very well until one day Aura, going to the lake, found his\nbasket net broken and torn, and taking it from the water saw with\nsurprise that the fish which had been in it were eaten. Such a thing had\nnever happened before, for in forest and hill he knew no enemy. As he\nstood in wonderment, the torn basket in his hand, he heard a voice\nbehind him say:\n\n                       \u201cFrom forest and hill\n                       We come at your will.\n                       Call, Aura, call!\u201d\n\nLooking around he saw a woodpecker, and the bright beady eyes of the\nbird were looking at him. Thereupon, Aura told the woodpecker to watch\nwell, and setting a new basket net in the water he went a little way\ninto the forest to gather wild fruits. Not far had he gone when he heard\nthe watching woodpecker call, \u201cToc, Toc!\u201d Swiftly he ran, but though he\nsped like a deer he was too late, for the second basket net was\ndestroyed even more completely than the first and again the fish were\ndevoured.\n\nA third net was set, and this time he called upon the cuckoo to watch\nwhile he gathered his fruits. Very soon he heard the \u201cPon, pon!\u201d of his\nnew watcher and Aura lost no time in running to the lakeside. There in\nthe water and close to the basket net was the flat, mud-coloured head of\na swamp alligator with its dull and heavy-lidded eyes. Quick as\nlightning, Aura fitted an arrow to his bow and let fly, and the shaft\nstruck the reptile between the eyes. A moment later the beast\ndisappeared into the water.\n\nThe basket net had been partly broken by the alligator, but Aura mended\nit and again entered the forest. But before long he heard the cuckoo\ncall, and much louder this time, so he ran like the wind, fitting an\narrow to his bow as he went. On the lake-bank stood a beautiful Indian\nmaiden in a gown that looked like silver, and she was weeping bitterly.\nAt that Aura\u2019s heart was touched with pity, for he could see no living\nthing unhappy and remain happy himself. Gently he took her by the hand\nand asked her to tell him her name.\n\n\u201cAnu-Anaitu,\u201d she said, and smiled through her tears like the sun after\na summer rain.\n\n\u201cFrom where do you come?\u201d was his next question.\n\n\u201cFar, far away, where the great owl lives,\u201d she made reply, and pointed\nin the direction of the dark forest.\n\n\u201cAnd who is your father?\u201d he asked, and at that there was a ripple of\nwater rings on the lake and Aura thought he saw the nose of the\nalligator.\n\nBut she made no answer to his question. Instead, she covered her face\nwith her hands and bent her head, so that her hair fell about her like a\ncloud.\n\nSeeing her strange grief Aura said no more, but led her to his mother\nwho received her kindly, and for many months the three of them dwelt\ntogether very happily. Yet whenever Anaitu thought of her father, she\nwept bitterly.\n\nAt last there came a day when Aura asked the maiden to be his wife and\ntold her that if she would give him her hand, the two of them would make\na journey to her own land so that she might say farewell to her people,\ntelling them that she had made her home in a land of peace and\nbrightness with those who loved her. Hearing that, little Anaitu wept\nwith terror, telling Aura of the fearful journey that would be theirs,\nthrough a place where were great bats and gray hairy spiders and\ncentipedes, and harmful and fearful things.\n\n\u201cThen stay with my mother and I shall go alone,\u201d said Aura, seeing her\nfear. \u201cAnd I will seek out your father and tell him that all is well\nwith you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is worse still,\u201d cried the maiden, \u201cfor there is an evil spirit in\nmy land and my father is bewitched. Seeing you, he will destroy you and\nyour mother and me as well, once he learns where we are.\u201d\n\nGreatly puzzled with all this, Aura went to see a wise old hermit who\nlived at the end of the lake, and to him he told his troubles and fears.\nAfter much thought, the hermit told Aura that he would make his journey\nin safety if he feared not and carried himself like a man. \u201cAnd,\u201d said\nhe, \u201cif it should come to pass that you are offered the choice of\nthings, see to it that you choose the simplest.\u201d\n\nMore than that the wise man would not say, so Aura went home and\nstraightway prepared his canoe, persuaded Anaitu to go with him, and\npresently they set off.\n\nThe way was fearful enough, as the maiden had said, for much of it was\nthrough dark forests and between high river banks where the tree roots\nreached out black and twisted like evil serpents. Again, they had to\npass through swamps where alligators slept and strange yellow beasts\nwith heads large as houses lay hidden. And for many long hours they\nwound in and out of tangled jungles where the sun never shone and in the\ndepths of which were strange things that roared so that the very trees\ntrembled.\n\nAfter many days they came to a smooth stretch of sand, and then the\nmaiden told him that they had arrived in the land of her father.\n\n\u201cAnd now I must leave you,\u201d she said, \u201cbut my mother will come and offer\nyou one of three things. See to it, dear Aura, that you choose wisely,\nfor all depends upon your choice.\u201d At that she waved him a farewell and\nwent up the bank and so passed from his sight.\n\nBefore long there came down the bank a wrinkled old woman with sorrowful\neyes, and she bore three gourds. Setting them down by the side of the\ncanoe, she bade Aura choose one. On the top of one gourd was a cover of\ngold, on the second a cover of silver, and on the third a cover of clay.\nLifting the covers, Aura saw in the first fresh blood. In the gourd with\nthe silver top he saw flesh, and in the third, a piece of cassava bread.\nAura bore in mind the words of the old hermit and quickly chose the\ngourd that held the bread.\n\n\u201cYou have done well,\u201d said the old woman. \u201cThis is a land where men\nbelieve in gold alone, and much blood is spilled because of it. Far\nbetter is it that men should choose that which is in the earth. Now\nhaving so chosen, I will lead you to my husband, whose name is\nKaikoutji. But here cruelty reigns everywhere and he may tear you to\npieces.\u201d\n\nAura had no mind to do otherwise than go through with his task and so\ntold the old woman. Whereupon she led him to the top of the bank, where\nhe again saw his Anaitu, and the maiden and her mother hid Aura in a\nforest near the house, while they went in to prepare Kaikoutji for the\nvisit. Hearing that the young man who loved his daughter was near, the\nold man fell into a most marvellous rage and so great was his anger that\nhe rushed out and bent trees as though they were reeds and bit rocks as\na man bites a crust of bread. So there was much trouble before he was\npersuaded to see the gentle Aura. Even then, Anaitu begged Aura to\nreturn, but he threw his arms around her and was gone before she could\nsay a word.\n\nStrange things happened as he ran to the house. Great branches broke and\nfell without hands touching them and stones leaped from the earth and\nwhizzed close to his ears, but he hastened on and entered into a hall.\nKaikoutji was not there; but as Aura looked round, he came in running.\nThe bewitched old man was strangely decked out with bones and teeth\nwhich dangled at the ends of strings fastened to his arms and legs and\nhis head was covered with a great calabash painted green, in the front\nof which were two holes pierced, through which he looked. For a moment\nKaikoutji stood, then giving a terrible howl he began to leap about,\nwaving his arms and rattling the dangling bones and teeth\u2014a very\npainful sight to Aura. The howling the man made was terrible. After much\nof this he stopped, turning the holes of his calabash on Aura.\n\n\u201cWhat can you do?\u201d he yelled. \u201cWhat can you do? Can you bend trees? Can\nyou bite rocks? Can you leap like this?\u201d Again he commenced to dance up\nand down, each leap being higher than the one before it, so that at last\nhis calabash struck the roof.\n\nWhen he had quieted down again, Aura said:\n\n\u201cI cannot leap. I cannot bend trees and I cannot bite rocks as you do.\nBut I can work with my hands and make whatever you wish made.\u201d\n\nHearing that, Kaikoutji whirled about and gave three mighty leaps,\nrattling his bones and dangling teeth furiously.\n\n\u201cMake me a magic stool,\u201d he shouted. \u201cAnd carve it of wood, with the\nhead of a jaguar at one end and my head carved at the other. And see to\nit that you have it finished by sunrise, or else you die.\u201d Then he gave\na yell, whirled about and rushed from the hall.\n\nAura saw that the task would be hard, even if he did what he had been\nset to do in the quiet of his own home. But without having seen the face\nof Kaikoutji he wondered greatly how he would complete his work. For all\nthat he took his knife, selected a block of wood and went to work, and\nhe worked with such a will that by midnight he had it all finished but\nthe rough place at the end where was to appear the likeness of\nKaikoutji. So he went to the old wife who had brought him the gourds and\nbegged her to describe the features of her husband. But that she refused\nto do, saying that if she did so, Kaikoutji, who knew everything, being\nan enchanted man, would kill them all. An hour passed and everything was\nthe same, Aura\u2019s work unfinished, his will as strong as ever. Then to\nhim came the gentle maiden who took him by the hand and led him into\nanother chamber where the old man sat in a corner asleep, his green\ncalabash over his head. In another corner of the room was a hammock and\ninto that Aura crept, thinking that if he kept quiet and remained\nhidden, by some chance the calabash might fall off and the face of the\nman be seen. But after looking long and seeing no move on the part of\nthe sleeping man, he grew weak and weary.\n\nOut of the corner near him came a small voice which said:\n\n                       \u201cFrom forest and hill\n                       We come at your will.\n                       Call, Aura, call!\u201d\n\nand looking that way he saw a mouse. At that the heart of Aura was glad,\nthe more as he saw the mouse run to the sleeping man and begin to nibble\nat his hand. For a moment it looked as if Kaikoutji would take off his\ncalabash, for he was plainly annoyed. But instead, by chance, he set his\nhand on the mouse, caught it, and flung it to the end of the room.\n\nAgain a voice was heard and this time Aura saw a spider dropping from\nthe ceiling, and as it dropped it said:\n\n                       \u201cFrom forest and hill\n                       We come at your will.\n                       Call, Aura, call!\u201d\n\nOver to the sleeper ran the spider, but matters were no better than\nbefore, for Kaikoutji dropped his hand, caught the spider, and threw it\nafter the mouse.\n\nNo sooner had Kaikoutji fallen asleep again than there came into the\nroom ants by hundreds and thousands, and leading them was the queen ant\nwho sang:\n\n                       \u201cFrom forest and hill\n                       We come at your will.\n                       Call, Aura, call!\u201d\n\nLike little soldiers they marched on the sleeper, swarming over his\nhands, his body, his legs. Under the calabash they went, a half hundred\nof them. That was too much even for Kaikoutji, and he leaped to his\nfeet, dashed the calabash to the earth, and fell to brushing off the\nants in lively manner. But the calabash was broken to pieces by the\nforce of the fall, and for the rest of that night he slept with his face\nexposed.\n\nFrom his hiding place it did not take long for Aura to learn his ugly\nfeatures. Nor did it escape his notice that between the eyes was an\narrow mark, and by that he knew that Kaikoutji was also the alligator he\nhad shot in the lake. When he was sure that the old man was asleep, he\nslipped out quietly and went to his work, and with such spirit he\nwrought that before sunrise he had carved the face on the end of the\nstool. Better still, so exact was his work, that all who saw it knew the\nface of Kaikoutji the terrible. But when the old man saw it and noted\nthe arrow mark between the eyes, he leaped higher than he had ever\nleaped before, having no calabash to hinder him, and declared that the\ntask had been too easy and that another must be done.\n\n\u201cBuild me,\u201d he said, \u201ca house of feathers before sundown, and see to it\nthat there is no bird in the forest from which there is not a feather\ntaken.\u201d Then, giving strict orders that no one should enter the part of\nthe forest in which Aura was put, he leaped up and down several times,\nscreaming horribly, after which he hastened away.\n\nWhen all was quiet, Aura lifted his head and sang:\n\n                       \u201cFrom forest and hill\n                       Oh, come. \u2019Tis my will.\n                       I call. I call.\u201d\n\nThen there was a great rushing sound and from everywhere came birds: sea\nbirds and land birds, river birds and lake birds, birds that flew, ran,\nand waded. There were sober brown birds, and birds more glorious than\nthe rainbow. There was a cloud of humming-birds, glittering like\npowdered gold, and there were proud ostriches. Chakars dropped from the\nsky singing, and blood-red flamingoes raced with golden-crested wrens.\nThere were songbirds, and silent birds, and birds whose cry was like the\nsound of a golden bell. There were storks, hawks, vultures, condors,\nswans, lapwings, and mocking-birds.\n\nNot a moment did they lose. In and out and round about they went,\nweaving wonderfully, their busy beaks at work, and before an hour had\npassed there stood the most wonderful house of feathers that the eye of\nman ever saw. In the light of the sun it shone green-gold, violet,\npurple, brown, white, and scarlet. And when the last feather was woven\nthe condor called, and the beating of so many wings, as the birds left,\nmade the very air throb. When all was again silent it seemed to Aura\nthat the work had been done in the twinkling of an eye.\n\nThe minute the sun touched the edge of the world Kaikoutji came howling\nand leaping. When he saw the feather house he stood for a moment with\nopen mouth. So angry he was at the sight that his tongue was dry and\nparched and he could say nothing. But the glory of what he saw dazzled\nand blinded him, and with a howl he turned and plunged into the depths\nof the forest and was seen no more. Some say that he was drowned in the\nLake of Pitch.\n\nBut Aura and Anaitu lived in the house of feathers and from that day to\nthis the people of that land have been kind and gentle and have\nforgotten the evil days when cruelty reigned everywhere. Also, they know\nnow that there are things more glorious than gold.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                           NA-HA THE FIGHTER\n\n\nIN the Far South near Cape Horn there is a place of many islands, and it\nis a corner of the world where winds are piercing cold and great black\nclouds scurry across a lead-gray sky. From snowclad mountains slide\nrivers of ice from which break off mighty pieces to fall into the sea\nwith thunder-sounds. It is a land wrinkled into narrow valleys that are\nalways gloomy and cold and wet. Cold, ice cold, is the gray-green sea,\nand the wild cries of a million sea birds fill the air. Sometimes great\nalbatrosses sweep up the channels between the high, jagged mountains or\ndrop low to sail over penguin-crowded rocks, and sometimes the mountain\nechoes are deep-toned with the booming of walrus and the barking of\nseals. But people are few. There are Indians there, poor gentle folk who\nfish in the sea and who know nothing but a life of cold, and they paddle\nor sit crouching in their canoes, taking no heed of the biting wind and\nthe snow that falls on their naked bodies.\n\nTravelling in that part of the world, I came upon a boy who had been\nleft, somehow, on an island not much larger than a good-sized\nplayground. He must have been there alone for some months, for he had\nlived on mussels and shell-fish, and the empty shells formed a\ngood-sized heap about his sleeping place. Though I questioned him\nclosely later, when we came to know one another, I could never learn how\nhe got there. He was, I suppose, about ten years old, and certainly\nbright and intelligent. As for his memory it was quite remarkable, and\nhe picked up words and the names of things very rapidly. Altogether, he\nstayed with me for three months, and I was often astonished at the\naptness with which he did some things, as, for instance, the making of\nan arrow-head from a piece of broken bottle. But other things he seemed\nquite unable to do. A knot in a rope puzzled him sorely and for a long\ntime a belt-buckle was a deep mystery to him.\n\nOne day I found that he was trying to tell me a story about a seal, for\nwe had seen several that morning. For awhile I paid no attention, being\noccupied at something or other that required care, but soon it dawned on\nme that he was very earnest and that the tale was a long one. Fearing\nthat I had missed much by my preoccupation and carelessness, I made him\ntell it to me a second and a third and a fourth time, and presently made\nshift to piece things together, and so get a fair notion of his story.\n\nI have called the tale by the name of the hero and have set it down in\nmy own words and as I understood it. Were I to write it in his words it\nwould go something like this:\n\n\u201cMany day, a far day, under-water man walk water. Eat man my father\u2019s\nfather; men cry much hard.\u201d There would have to be indicated, too, much\ngesticulation and arm waving by way of illustration and emphasis. . . .\nSo here is the tale.\n\n                 *        *        *        *        *\n\nLong years ago, the people of that land were sadly at the mercy of the\nwild, hairy folk who lived under the sea. To be sure, there were long\nperiods when they were left in peace to do their fishing, though from\ntheir canoes they could look down into the waters and see the under-sea\npeople walking on the sands at the bottom, very shadowy and vague,\nthough, in the greenish light. Still, it was clear enough, for those who\nwatched, to see their hair-covered bodies, their long and serpent-like\narms and their noseless faces.\n\nBut again, there were times when the under-sea men marched in great\nnumbers out of the water and caught the land men, dragging them down to\ntheir deaths. In such numbers they came that there was no resisting\nthem. Nor was there escape, for the under-sea people could walk on the\nwater, going faster than the wind itself. With ear-splitting booming\nthey would form themselves into a wide circle about the canoes, then\ndraw nearer in wild rushes or strange slidings and drag the frightened\nmen into the green-gray water. Sometimes a few only were taken and those\nthat were left, looking down, might see the under-sea folk dragging\ntheir fellows to great rocks to which they bound them with ropes of\nleathery kelp.\n\nOne day the under-sea people caught Na-Ha, a youth strong as a wild\nwind, whose muscles were knotted like oak branches, one who smiled when\ndanger came. Five of the noseless people attacked him and of the five,\nNa-Ha sent three to the bottom of the sea with broken necks, for though\nhe smote them with his clenched fist alone, they staggered back and\nswiftly sank, and the blood that gushed from their mouths made a\nspreading pink cloud in the water. But soon the sea was alive with wild,\nraging faces and the roaring of them was like the southeast wind in the\nforest trees, yet Na-Ha stood in his little canoe, cold and calm, and\nthe smile did not leave his lips. Stealthily they crept toward him, none\nat first daring to attack, until with a fierce noise and clamour all\nrushed together, leaping upon him in his canoe and bearing it down by\nsheer press and weight, Na-Ha in the midst of the tangled mass of\nhair-covered creatures. Some who saw that fight said that the sudden\nsilence when the waters closed over them hurt the ears like a thunder\nclap, but the true hearted Na-Ha was the last to disappear, and while he\nsmote the black-haired ones furiously, the smile of scorn was still on\nhis face.\n\nLike a picture in a dream some saw the fight among the rocks at the\nbottom of the sea, saw the noseless ones crowding about the lad, saw\nothers leaping over the heads of those who did not dare to near him, saw\nothers again creeping in the sea sand, trailing kelp ropes to bind him.\nMany fell in that battle under the sea and the low waves that lapped the\nshore were red with blood that day. How it ended none knew, for with the\ndying light and the sand clouds that hung in the water all became gray\nat last and then swiftly faded.\n\nThat night the land people wept for Na-Ha the untamed, Na-Ha whose spear\nwas like lightning, Na-Ha whose canoe rode the waves like the brown\nstorm-birds. Tales were whispered of how he never bent beneath a load,\nof how in the blackest night he drove his boat before the storm, of how\nonce he swept out to sea after a great whale and slew it, so that his\npeople were saved from the hunger-death.\n\nBut with the screaming of the morning sea-gulls Na-Ha came to them\nagain, walking up out of the sea, and his face was set and stern. Nor\ndid he say a word until he had eaten and thought awhile.\n\nThe tale he told was of the under-seas and of his wandering after the\nbattle in which he left so many dead in bloody sand. He had been\nsore-pressed, he said, but had broken away and come to a door in a cave,\nwhich he entered. It was a vast cavern in which he found himself, so\nvast that he could not at first see the end, and the roof of it he never\nsaw, it being lost in a strange, cool-green light. The floor of the\nplace was of gold dust and silver sand, and out of it grew networks of\nwhite rocks about which swam fish of many gay colours, while everywhere\nseaweeds swayed in gently moving water.\n\nSoon he came to a place where, on a seat of white, sat a woman with bent\nhead, and she was fair of skin and her golden hair floated in the water\nlike a cloud. Being bidden, Na-Ha told her the tale of the fight and how\nthe earth people were woe-ridden because of the evil work of the\nunder-sea folk.\n\nPatiently she listened, her cheek on her hand and her eyes large with\ngrief, and when Na-Ha had done she told him that there was but one way\nto free his people and that was the way of the white death. Much more\nshe told him and then gave him a great sea-shell and made him know that\nwhen he blew it the great cold that lies under the seven stars would be\nfreed and the under-sea people driven for all time to their own place.\nThen she stepped from her seat, and taking Na-Ha by the hand gazed at\nhim long.\n\n\u201cMany there are, Na-Ha, who live not to know of the good that they do.\nHe who looses the white death must himself be stilled. This I tell you,\nNa-Ha, lest your heart fail you,\u201d she said.\n\nThat was all, for he did not tell the tale of how he came again to the\nland, but he showed them the great shell and said that his mind was made\nup to free his own people, though he himself slept the sleep. At that\nthe people set up a great shout and there were not wanting those who\noffered to sound the blast, saying that it were better for Na-Ha to lead\nthe people. But that Na-Ha refused, and added that the under-sea woman\nhad told him that before the blast was blown all the land people should\ntake themselves and their belongings to a far land under the sun, for\nstaying where they were, it would do but small good to drive the\nunder-sea people to their own place for ever, seeing that they\nthemselves must also be ice-stiffened.\n\nThen arose a confusion of talk, many being unwilling to leave the land\nwhere their fathers and the fathers of their fathers had lived, but\nNa-Ha prevailed and overruled them, and soon the day came when there was\na great movement and canoes were loaded and the land people set off for\nthe country under the sun. So Na-Ha was left alone.\n\nOver the length and the breadth of the land Na-Ha walked, to see if by\nmischance some had been left, but there were none. And when the sea-hen\nand the albatross and the gull and the brown storm-birds saw the\nhair-covered, noseless people come out of the sea, when with the black\nloneliness of night the snow came and the land waters were prisoned\nunder glassy ice, when the morning sun looked on a world of rime and\ncrystal frost, then Na-Ha put the great shell to his lips and blew a\nblast that woke the echoes.\n\nSo the world soon grew faint and sleepy and all living creatures except\nthe noseless ones fled or flew after the land people, and there was\nstrange stillness everywhere. Trees that had been green grew horned and\nblack and then ghost-white. And the black wind came raging and furious,\nand grinding, groaning ice-mountains swam in the sea and locked the\nland, and hills were cased in beryl walls.\n\nSeeing all that, for a time the under-sea folk were full of delight,\nbelieving themselves to be masters of the land, but soon they feared the\nglistening white of the world, the black scurrying clouds, and the\nfast-thickening ice. So they sought the sea, but no sea was there, only\nthick-ribbed ice across which swept snow-laden, stinging winds, and\ninstead of the quiet of the under-water there was the calm of the white\ndeath. Under the eaves of the rocks they crouched, but it was small\nhelp, for with the biting cold they shrivelled and shrank. Close they\nhugged themselves, their elbows thrust into their hairy sides, their\nlegs bent, making themselves small. And thus they stayed, nevermore to\nbe as they were. For in that great cold the under-water people became\nseals, and seals they remained.\n\nWell and bravely stood Na-Ha while all this came to pass, scornful of\nthe death that clawed at him. Nor did he lay down to die until the great\ncold had passed away and his people returned to find the under-water\nfolk forevermore bound to their own place, powerless to harm, looking\nalways with wide, wondering eyes, lest the mighty Na-Ha again steal upon\nthem and bring the great white death.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                    THE HUMMING-BIRD AND THE FLOWER\n\n\nGOOD morning, pretty flower!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood morning, little humming-bird!\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I have some honey, please?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly. Here is plenty. Help yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you. It is very good of you. Is there anything that I can do for\nyou in return?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I hear so little, seeing that I do not go abroad, that I love to\nbe told things. I wish that you would tell me how you came to have so\nbeautiful a dress. I have often wondered as I saw you flashing past.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you indeed? Well, let me think. I believe I have heard that it was\nbecause of a mouse, that I have it.\u201d\n\n\u201cA mouse? How can that be, busy little Colibr\u00ed? A mouse, you know, is\ndull and gray.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen, Florecilla, if it was not a mouse, it was mud.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear humming-bird, you _must_ be wrong. You know as well as I do\nthat mud is dull and gray. Won\u2019t you stop your humming a moment and\nthink?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, now I know. It was because of a panther.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear, dear Colibr\u00ed, that is worse still. A panther, did you say? I must\nhave heard wrong.\u201d\n\n\u201cIsn\u2019t that right, either? Well, it must have been all three\u2014the mouse,\nthe mud, and the panther. So there now. . . . But how sweet this honey\nis.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, I am glad that you find it so. But please tell me about your\npretty dress.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes. I forgot, thinking of the honey. One has so much to think of.\nI remember now, perfectly well. It was Paloma the dove who told me all\nabout it yesterday, but a day and a night is a very, very long time to\nremember a long tale.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen tell me before you forget.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, once all humming-birds were gray.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I have heard.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, a big panther was going through the woods very quietly, and he\nstepped on a mouse-nest and happened to kill all the baby mice.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear me. I am so sorry to hear that.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo when the mother mouse came to her home and saw what had happened she\nwas very much annoyed, saying that the panther was too big and too\nclumsy and did not look where he was going.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Colibr\u00ed, she would be annoyed. You know I have often thought how\nnice it would be if mice and panthers and all creatures did not move\nabout as they do. They run about so and they jump and skip, and it is no\nwonder that things happen. Suppose trees and flowers and bushes were as\nrestless as animals. Think how it would be with great trees treading on\nlittle flowers, and thorn-bushes running about and tearing down the\ngentle flores del aire and scratching the tender skins of the grapes.\nNow if _I_ were queen, I would make a law so that all those forest\ncreatures that run on four legs should just stand and grow as we do,\nand\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cPlease do not interrupt or I may forget the tale.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I beg your pardon. Go on, please.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, of course the panther told the mother mouse how it had happened\nand said that he was sorry and that he would be more careful, but she\nscolded him and kept it in her heart to punish him.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, little Colibr\u00ed, if he said that he was sorry, and if it could not\nbe helped, then it seems to me\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, little flower, you _must_ listen. You have no idea how\ndifficult it is to tell a tale. So please do not interrupt. One day when\nthe panther was asleep the mouse crept up with some gum which she had\ntaken from the tree and sealed up the panther\u2019s eyes. Then she took mud\nfrom the laguna and plastered it over the gum, and then more gum and\nmore mud, so that the panther could not tell day from night.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear me. That was very unkind and very dreadful. I am as sorry for the\npanther as I am for the mother mouse.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, anyway, that proves that it was a mouse and a panther and mud,\njust as I said.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, dear humming-bird, how about the dress of many colours?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am coming to that, but you interrupt so. The panther roared and\nroared and roared, until the very softest of his roars shook the\nesteros, and the alligators were frightened and dived to the bottom of\nthe water. Hearing all that noise, a humming-bird asked the panther what\nthe noise was all about.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat was very good of the humming-bird. And what did the panther say?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe told the humming-bird all about it and asked him to kill the mouse.\nBut that the humming-bird would not do.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course not. _I_ never killed a mouse.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo then the panther said that if the humming-bird would take away the\ngum and the mud so that he could see again, he would do anything that he\ncould in return. You see, little flower, the panther is wise because he\ntravels so much and all things that travel know a great deal.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not so sure of that, Colibr\u00ed. All this summer I have travelled up\nthis tree and so have gone a great distance, but I know very little.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is different. No one wants a flower to be wise. To be beautiful is\nenough.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut please listen and do not talk so much.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am very sorry that I interrupted you, little humming-bird.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the humming-bird told the panther that she wished to have a\nbeautiful dress, as beautiful as the dress of the sun bird, and asked\nhim to tell her where she could get bright colours. Then before the\npanther answered, she asked him to tell her how the lianas got the red\nand yellow and purple for their blossoms.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is the most interesting thing I have ever heard and I hope the\ntale will not be short. Did the panther know?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course he knew. He told her that the flowers got their colour from\nthe earth and he also told her where there was clay of many colours and\nwhere there were gold and silver and rubies. So the humming-bird picked\nand picked until the panther\u2019s eyes were unsealed and the big fellow\ngave a roar of gladness. All that day panther and humming-bird worked,\nbringing coloured clay and coloured sands, and silver and gold, and\nrubies and opals, and the blue and crimson of sunset and the silver of\nthe moon and the stars, and the tender green of shady forests and the\nblackness of ebony. Out of all these the humming-bird dressed herself,\nand for misty-moving wings she took the spun silk of the spider and the\nsoft thread of the sumaha. And that is how the humming-bird got her\ndress. There now.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am glad to know that, dear humming-bird, and I thank you for telling\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I, dear flower, thank you for the honey.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood-bye, then, if you must go.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood-bye, Florecilla. . . _=B-z-z-z-z. H-m-m-m-m-m\u2014mmmmmm.=_\u201d\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                             THE MAGIC BALL\n\n\n                     (A Tale of the Chuput Country)\n\nA COLD-EYED witch lived in the Cordilleras and when the first snow\ncommenced to fall she was always full of glee, standing on a rock,\nscreaming like a wind-gale and rubbing her hands. For it pleased her to\nsee the winter moon, the green country blotted out, the valleys white,\nthe trees snow-laden, and the waters ice-bound and black. Winter was her\nhunting time and her eating time, and in the summer she slept. So she\nwas full of a kind of savage joy when there were leaden clouds and\ndrifting gales, and she waited and watched, waited and watched, ever\nready to spring upon frost-stiffened creatures, that went wandering down\nto the warmer lowlands.\n\nThis witch was a wrinkled creature, hard of eye, thin-lipped, with hands\nthat looked like roots of trees, and so tough was her skin that knife\ncould not cut nor arrow pierce it. In the country that swept down to the\nsea she was greatly feared, and hated, too. The hate came because by\nsome strange magic she was able to draw children to her one by one, and\nhow she did it no man knew. But the truth is that she had a magic ball,\na ball bright and shining and of many colours, and this she left in\nplaces where children played, but never where man or woman could see it.\n\nOne day, near the lake called Oretta, a brother and sister were at play\nand saw the magic ball at the foot of a little hill. Pleased with its\nbrightness and beauty Natalia ran to it, intending to pick it up and\ntake it home, but, to her surprise, as she drew near to it the ball\nrolled away; then, a little way off, came to rest again. Again she ran\nto it and almost had her hand on it when it escaped, exactly as a piece\nof thistle-down does, just as she was about to grasp it. So she followed\nit, always seeming to be on the point of catching it but never doing so,\nand as she ran her brother Luis followed, careful lest she should come\nto harm. The strange part of it was that every time the ball stopped it\nrested close to some berry bush or by the edge of a crystal-clear\nspring, so that she, like all who were thus led away, always found at\nthe moment of resting something to eat or to drink or to refresh\nherself. Nor, strangely enough, did she tire, but because of the magic\nwent skipping and running and jumping just as long as she followed the\nball. Nor did any one under the spell of that magic note the passing of\ntime, for days were like hours and a night like the shadow of a swiftly\nflying cloud.\n\nAt last, chasing the ball, Natalia and Luis came to a place in the\nvalley where the Rio Chico runs between great hills, and it was dark and\ngloomy and swept by heavy gray clouds. The land was strewn with mighty\nbroken rocks and here and there were patches of snow, and soon great\nsnow flakes appeared in the air. Then boy and girl were terror-struck,\nfor they knew with all the wandering and twisting and turning they had\nlost their way. But the ball still rolled on, though slower now, and the\nchildren followed. But the air grew keener and colder and the sun\nweaker, so that they were very glad indeed when they came to a black\nrock where, at last, the ball stopped.\n\nNatalia picked it up, and for a moment gazed at its beauty, but for a\nmoment only. For no sooner had she gazed at it and opened her lips to\nspeak than it vanished as a soap bubble does, at which her grief was\ngreat. Luis tried to cheer her and finding that her hands were icy cold\nled her to the north side of the rock where it was warmer, and there he\nfound a niche like a lap between two great arms, and in the moss-grown\ncranny Natalia coiled herself up and was asleep in a minute. As for\nLuis, knowing that as soon as his sister had rested they must set out\nabout finding a way home, he sat down intending to watch. But not very\nlong did he keep his eyes open, for he was weary and sad at heart. He\ntried hard to keep awake, even holding his eyelids open with his\nfingers, and he stared hard at a sunlit hilltop across the valley, but\neven that seemed to make him sleepy. Then, too, there were slowly\nnodding pine trees and the whispering of leaves, coming in a faint\nmurmur from the mountainside. So, soon, Luis slept.\n\nNatalia, being out of the blustering wind, was very comfortable in the\nlittle niche between the great stone arms, and she dreamed that she was\nat home. Her mother, she thought, was combing her hair and singing as\nshe did so. So she forgot her hunger and weariness, and in her\ndream-land knew nothing of the bare black rocks and snow-patched hills.\nInstead, she seemed to be at home where the warm firelight danced on the\nwalls and lighted her father\u2019s brown face to a lively red as he mended\nhis horse gear. She saw her brother, too, with his jet-black hair and\ncherry-red lips. But her mother, she thought, grew rough and careless\nand pulled her hair, so that she gave a little cry of pain and awoke.\nThen in a flash she knew where she was and was chilled to the bone with\nthe piercing wind that swept down from the mountain top. Worse still, in\nfront of her stood the old witch of the hills, pointing, pointing,\npointing with knotty forefinger, and there were nails on her hands and\nfeet that looked like claws.\n\nNatalia tried to rise, but could not, and her heart was like stone when\nshe found what had happened. It was this: while she slept, the witch had\nstroked and combed her hair, and meanwhile wrought magic, so that the\ngirl\u2019s hair was grown into the rock so very close that she could not as\nmuch as turn her head. All that she could do was to stretch forth her\narms, and when she saw Luis a little way off she called to him most\npiteously. But good Luis made no move. Instead, he stood with arms wide\napart like one who feels a wall in the dark, moving his hands this way\nand that. Then Natalia wept, not understanding and little knowing that\nthe witch had bound Luis with a spell, so that there seemed to be an\ninvisible wall around the rock through which he could not pass, try as\nhe would. But he heard the witch singing in her high and cracked voice,\nand this is what she sang:\n\n                      \u201cValley all pebble-sown,\n                      Valley where wild winds moan!\n                      Come, mortals, come.\n\n                      \u201cValley so cool and white,\n                      Valley of winter night,\n                      Come, children, come.\n\n                      \u201cStraight like a shaft to mark,\n                      Come they to cold and dark,\n                      Children of men!\u201d\n\nThen she ceased and stood with her root-like finger up-raised, and from\nnear by came the voice of a great white owl, which took up the song,\nsaying:\n\n            \u201cThings of the dark and things without name,\n            Save us from light and the torch\u2019s red flame.\u201d\n\nNow all this was by starlight, but the moment the owl had ceased, from\nover the hill came a glint of light as the pale moon rose, and with a\nsound like a thunderclap the witch melted into the great rock and the\nowl flapped away heavily.\n\n\u201cBrother,\u201d whispered the girl, \u201cyou heard what the owl said?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sister, I heard,\u201d he answered.\n\n\u201cBrother, come to me. I am afraid,\u201d said Natalia, and commenced to cry a\nlittle.\n\n\u201cSister,\u201d he said, \u201cI try but I cannot. There is something through which\nI cannot pass. I can see but I cannot press through.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you not climb over, dear Luis?\u201d asked Natalia.\n\n\u201cNo, Natalia. I have reached high as I can, but the wall that I cannot\nsee goes up and up.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs there no way to get in on the other side of the rock, dear, dear\nLuis? I am very cold and afraid, being here alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cSister, I have walked around. I have felt high and low. But it is\nalways the same. I cannot get through, I cannot climb over, I cannot\ncrawl under. But I shall stay here with you, so fear not.\u201d\n\nAt that Natalia put her hands to her face and wept a little, but very\nquietly, and it pained Luis to see the tears roll down her cheeks and\nturn to little ice pearls as they fell. After a while Natalia spoke\nagain, but through sobs.\n\n\u201cBrother mine, you heard what the owl said?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sister.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes it mean nothing to you?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cNothing,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cBut listen,\u201d said Natalia. \u201cThese were the words: \u2018Save us from light\nand the torch\u2019s red flame.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI heard that, Natalia. What does it mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt means, brother, that the things in this horrible valley fear fire.\nSo go, brother. Leave me a while but find fire, coming back with it\nswiftly. There will be sickening loneliness, so haste, haste.\u201d\n\nHearing that, Luis was sad, for he was in no mood to leave his sister in\nthat plight. Still she urged him, saying: \u201cSpeed, brother, speed.\u201d\n\nEven then he hesitated, until with a great swoop there passed over the\nrock a condor wheeling low, and it said as it passed: \u201cFire will conquer\nfrosted death.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou hear, brother,\u201d said Natalia. \u201cSo speed and find fire and return\nbefore night.\u201d\n\nThen Luis stayed no longer, but waved his sister a farewell and set off\ndown the valley, following the condor that hovered in the air, now\ndarting away and now returning. So Luis knew that the great bird led\nhim, and he ran, presently finding the river and following it until he\nreached the great vega where the waters met.\n\nAt the meeting of the waters he came to a house, a poor thing made of\nearth and stones snuggled in a warm fold of the hills. No one was about\nthere, but as the condor flew high and, circling in the air, became a\nsmall speck, Luis knew that it would be well to stay a while and see\nwhat might befall. Pushing open the door he saw by the ashes in the\nfireplace that someone lived there, for there were red embers well\ncovered to keep the fire alive. So seeing that the owner of the house\nwould return soon he made himself free of the place, which was the way\nof that country, and brought fresh water from the spring. Then he\ngathered wood and piled it neatly by the fireside. Next he blew upon the\nembers and added twigs and sticks until a bright fire glowed, after\nwhich he took the broom of twigs and swept the earth floor clean.\n\nHow the man of the house came into the room Luis never knew, but there\nhe was, sitting by the fire on a stool. He looked at things but said\nnothing to Luis, only nodding his head. Then he brought bread and yerba\nand offered some to Luis. After they had eaten the old man spoke, and\nthis is what he said:\n\n\u201cWicked is the white witch, and there is but one way to defeat her.\nWhat, lad, is the manner of her defeat? Tell me that.\u201d\n\nThen Luis, remembering what the condor had said, repeated the words:\n\u201c\u2018Fire will conquer frosted death.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d said the man slowly, nodding his head. \u201cAnd your sister is\nthere. Now here comes our friend the condor, who sees far and knows\nmuch.\u201d\n\n               \u201cNow with cold grows faint her breath,\n               Fire will conquer frosted death.\u201d\n\nHaving said that the great bird wheeled up sharply.\n\nBut no sooner was it out of sight than a turkey came running and stood a\nmoment, gobbling. To it the old man gave a lighted brand, repeating the\nwords the condor had spoken.\n\nOff sped the turkey with the blazing stick, running through marsh and\nswamp in a straight line, and Luis and the old man watched. Soon the\nbird came to a shallow lagoon, yet made no halt. Straight through the\nwater it sped, and so swiftly that the spray dashed up on either side.\nHigh the turkey held the stick, but not high enough, for the splashing\nwater quenched the fire, and seeing that, the bird returned, dropping\nthe blackened stick at the old man\u2019s feet.\n\n\u201cGive me another, for the maiden is quivering cold,\u201d said the turkey.\n\u201cThis time I will run round the lake.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. No,\u201d answered the man. \u201cYou must know that when the water spirit\nkisses the fire king, the fire king dies. So, that you may remember,\nfrom now and for ever you will carry on your feathers the marks of\nrippling water.\u201d\n\nDown again swooped the condor and a little behind him came a goose,\nflying heavily. As before, the condor cried:\n\n               \u201cNow with cold grows faint her breath,\n               Fire will conquer frosted death.\u201d\n\nthen flew away again toward the witch mountain.\n\nTo the goose the old man gave a blazing stick and at once the brave bird\nset off, flying straight in the direction the condor had taken. Over\nvega and over lagoon she went, pausing only at a snowclad hilltop,\nbecause the stick had burned close to her beak. So she dropped it in the\nsnow to get a better hold, and when she picked it up again there was but\na charred thing. Sad enough the goose returned to the house, bearing the\nblackened stick, and begged to be given another chance.\n\n\u201cNo. No,\u201d said the old man. \u201cThe silver snow queen\u2019s kiss is death to\nthe fire king. That is something you must remember. From now on and for\never you must carry feathers of gray like the ashes. But here comes the\ncondor and we must hear his message.\u201d\n\nSadly then the goose went away, her feathers ash gray, and the condor\nwheeled low again, calling:\n\n                \u201cFainter grows the maiden\u2019s breath,\n                Night must bring the frosted death,\u201d\n\nand having said, like an arrow he shot off.\n\nNo sooner had he gone than the long-legged, long-billed flamingo dropped\nto the ground.\n\n\u201cYour beak is long,\u201d said the old man, \u201cbut fly swiftly, for the stick\nis short.\u201d\n\nThe flamingo took the burning stick by the end and made straight for the\nmountain, racing with all possible speed. As for Luis, he made up his\nmind to tarry no longer and set off, running like a deer. But an\nostrich, seeing him, spread her wings like sails and ran by his side. On\nher back Luis placed his hand, and with that help sped as fast as the\nflamingo. In the air the flamingo went like an arrow, resting not,\nalthough the blazing fire burned her neck and breast until it became\npink and red. But that she heeded not. Straight up the valley and to the\nrock where Natalia was bound went she, and into a heap of dried moss on\nthe south side of the rock she dropped the blazing stick. Up leaped the\ndancing flames, and with a tremendous noise the rock flew into a\nthousand pieces and the power of the witch was gone for ever. As for\nNatalia, she was at once freed, and with her gentle, cool hand stroked\nthe breast of the flamingo so that the burns were healed, but as a sign\nof its bravery the bird has carried a crimson breast from that day to\nthis. As for Natalia and Luis, they lived for many, many years in the\nvalley, and about them birds of many kinds played and lived and reared\ntheir young, and the magic ball of the witch lived only in the memory of\nmen.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                                EL ENANO\n\n\nEVERYONE disliked El Enano who lived in the forest, because he always\nlay hidden in dark places, and when woodmen passed he jumped out on them\nand beat them and took their dinners from them. He was a squat creature,\nyellow of skin and snag-toothed and his legs were crooked, his arms were\ncrooked, and his face was crooked. There were times when he went about\non all fours and then he looked like a great spider, for he had scraggy\nwhiskers that hung to the ground and looked like legs. At other times he\nhad the mood to make himself very small like a little child, and then he\nwas most horrible to see, for his skin was wrinkled and his whiskers\nhung about him like a ragged garment.\n\nYet all of that the people might have forgiven and he might have been\nput up with, were it not for some worse tricks. What was most disliked\nwas his trick of walking softly about a house in the night-time while\nthe people were inside, suspecting nothing, perhaps singing and talking.\nSeeing them thus, El Enano would hide in the shadows until someone went\nfor water to the spring, then out he would leap, clinging fast to the\nhair of the boy or man and beating, biting, scratching the while. Being\nreleased, the tortured one would of course run to reach the house, but\nEl Enano would hop on one leg behind, terribly fast, and catch his\nvictim again just as a hand was almost laid on the door latch. Nor could\nan alarm be raised, because El Enano cast a spell of silence, so that,\ntry as one would, neither word nor shout would come.\n\nThen there was his other evil trick of hiding close to the ground and\nreaching out a long and elastic arm to catch boy or girl by the ankle.\nBut that was not worse than his habit of making a noise like hail or\nrain, hearing which the people in the house would get up to close a\nwindow, and there, looking at them from the dark but quite close to\ntheir faces, would be the grinning Enano holding in his hands his\nwhiskers that looked like a frightening curtain, his eyes red and\nshining like rubies. That was very unpleasant indeed, especially when a\nperson was alone in the house. Nor was it much better when he left the\nwindow, for he would hop and skip about the house yard for hours,\nscreaming and howling and throwing sticks and stones. So, wherever he\nwas there was chill horror.\n\nOne day, a good old woman who lived alone went with her basket to gather\nberries. El Enano saw her and at once made himself into a little\ncreature no larger than a baby and stretched himself on a bed of bright\nmoss between two trees leafless and ugly. He pretended to be asleep,\nthough he whimpered a little as a child does when it has a bad dream.\n\nThe good old woman was short-sighted but her ears were quick, and\nhearing the soft whimper she found the creature and took it in her arms.\nTo do that bent her sadly, for Enano when small was the same weight as\nwhen his full size.\n\n\u201cOh, poor thing,\u201d she said. \u201cSomeone has lost a baby. Or perhaps some\nwild creature has carried the tender thing from its home. So, lest it\nperish I will take care of it, though to be sure, a heavier baby I never\nheld.\u201d\n\nThe dame had no children of her own and, though poor, was both willing\nand glad to share what she had with any needy creature. Gently she took\nit home and having put dry sticks on the fire she made a bed of light\ntwigs which she covered with a mat of feathers. Then she bustled about,\ngetting bread and milk for supper for the little one, feeling happy at\nheart because she had rescued the unhappy creature from the dismal\nforest.\n\nAt first she was glad to see the appetite of the homeless thing, for it\nsoon finished the bread and milk and cried for more.\n\n\u201cBless me! It must be half starved,\u201d she said. \u201cIt may have my supper.\u201d\nSo she took the food she had set out for herself and El Enano swallowed\nit as quickly as he had swallowed the first bowl. Yet still he cried for\nmore. Off then to the neighbours she went, borrowing milk from this one,\nbread from that, rice from another, until half the children of the\nvillage had to go on short commons that night. The creature devoured all\nthat was brought and still yelled for more and the noise it made was\near-splitting. But as it ate and felt the warmth, it grew and grew.\n\n\u201cSanta Maria!\u201d said the dame. \u201cWhat wonderful thing is this? Already it\nis no longer a baby, but a grown child. Almost it might be called ugly,\nbut that, I suppose, is because it was motherless and lost. It is all\nvery sad.\u201d Then, because she had thought it ugly she did the more for\nit, being sorry for her thoughts, though she could not help nor hinder\nthem. As for the creature itself, having eaten all in the house, it gave\na grunt or two, turned heavily on its side and went to sleep, snoring\nterribly.\n\nNext morning matters were worse, for El Enano was stretched out on the\nfloor-before the fire, his full size, and seeing the dame he called for\nfood, making so great a noise that the very windows shook and his cries\nwere heard all over the village. So to still him, and there being\nnothing to eat in the house, the good old woman went out and told her\ntale to the neighbours, asking their help and advice, and to her house\nthey all went flocking to look at the strange creature. One man, a\nstout-hearted fellow, told El Enano that it was high time for him to be\ngoing, hearing which, the ugly thing shrieked with wicked laughter.\n\n\u201cWell, bring me food,\u201d it said, looking at the man with red eyes. \u201cBring\nme food, I say, and when I have eaten enough I may leave you. But bring\nme no child\u2019s food, but rather food for six and twenty men. Bring an\narmadillo roasted and a pig and a large goose and many eggs and the milk\nof twenty cows. Nor be slow about it, for I must amuse myself while I\nwait and it may well be that you will not care for the manner of my\namusement.\u201d\n\nIndeed, there was small likelihood of any one there doing that, for his\namusement was in breaking things about the house, the tables and\nbenches, the pots and the ollas, and when he had made sad havoc of the\nwoman\u2019s house he started on the house next door, smashing doors and\nwindows, tearing up flowers by the roots, chasing the milk goats and the\nchickens, and setting dogs to fight. Nor did he cease in his mischief\nuntil the meal was set out for him, when he leaped upon it and crammed\nit down his throat with fearful haste, leaving neither bone nor crumb.\n\nThe people of the village stood watching, whispering one to another\nbehind their hands, how they were shocked at all that sight, and when at\nlast the meal was finished, the stout-hearted man who had spoken before\nstepped forward. \u201cNow sir!\u201d said he to El Enano, \u201cseeing that you have\neaten enough and more than enough, you will keep your word, going about\nyour business and leaving this poor woman and us in peace. Will you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. _No._ NO!\u201d roared El Enano, each No being louder than the one\nbefore it.\n\n\u201cBut you promised,\u201d said the man.\n\nWhat the creature said when answering that made nearly everyone there\nfaint with horror. It said:\n\n\u201cWhat I promised was that I would leave when I had eaten enough. I did\nnot\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nThe bold man interrupted then, saying, \u201cWell, you have eaten enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh yes, for one meal,\u201d answered the cruel Enano. \u201cBut I meant that I\nwould leave when I have eaten enough for always. There is to-morrow and\nto-morrow night. There is the day after that and the next day and the\nnext day. There are to be weeks of eating and months of eating and years\nof eating. You are stupid people if you think that I shall ever have\neaten enough. So I shall not leave. No. _No._ NO!\u201d\n\nHaving said that, the creature laughed in great glee and began to throw\nsuch things as he could reach against the walls, and so, many good\nthings were shattered.\n\nNow for three days that kind of thing went on, at the end of which time\nthe men of the place were at their wits\u2019 ends to know what to do, for\nalmost everything eatable in the village had gone down the creature\u2019s\nthroat. Sad at heart, seeing what had come to pass, the good old woman\nwent out and sat down to weep by the side of a quiet pool, for it seemed\nto her to be a hard thing that what she had done in kindness had ended\nthus, and that the house she had built and loved and kept clean and\nsweet should be so sadly wrecked and ruined. Her thoughts were broken by\nthe sound of a voice, and turning she saw a silver-gray fox sitting on a\nrock and looking at her.\n\n\u201cIt is well enough to have a good cry,\u201d he said, \u201cbut it is better to be\ngay and have a good laugh.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! Good evening, Se\u00f1or Zorro,\u201d answered the dame, drying her tears.\n\u201cBut who can be gay when a horrible creature is eating everything? Who\ncan be otherwise than sad, seeing the trouble brought on friends?\u201d The\nlast she added, being one of those who are always saddened by the\ncheerlessness of others.\n\n\u201cYou need not tell me,\u201d said the fox. \u201cI know everything that has\npassed,\u201d and he put his head a little sideways like a wise young dog and\nseemed to smile.\n\n\u201cBut what is there to do?\u201d asked the dame. \u201cI am in serious case indeed.\nThis alocado says that he will make no stir until he has had enough to\neat for all his life, and certainly he makes no stir to go away.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe trouble is that you give him enough and not too much,\u201d said the\nfox.\n\n\u201cToo much, you say? We have given him too much already, seeing that we\nhave given him all that we have,\u201d said the old dame a little angrily.\n\n\u201cWell, what you must do is to give him something that he does not like.\nThen he will go away,\u201d said the fox.\n\n\u201cEasier said than done,\u201d answered the old woman with spirit. \u201cDid we but\ngive him something of which he liked not the taste, then he would eat\nten times more to take the bad taste away. Se\u00f1or Zorro, with all your\ncleverness, you are but a poor adviser.\u201d\n\nAfter that the fox thought a long while before saying anything, then\ncoming close to the old woman and looking up into her face he said:\n\n\u201cMake your mind easy. He shall have enough to eat this very night and\nall that you have to do is to see that your neighbours do as I say, nor\nbe full of doubt should I do anything that seems to be contrary.\u201d\n\nSo the good old woman promised to warn her neighbours, knowing well the\nwisdom of the fox, and together they went to her house, where they found\nEl Enano stretched out on the floor, looking like a great pig, and every\nminute he gave a great roar. The neighbours were both angry and afraid,\nfor the creature had been very destructive that day. Indeed, he had\ntaken delight in stripping the thatched roofs and had desisted only when\nthe men of the place had promised to double the amount of his meal.\n\nNot five minutes had the fox and the dame been in the house when the men\nof the place came in with things\u2014with berries and armadillos, eggs and\npartridges, turkeys and bread and much fish from the lake. At once they\nset about cooking, while the women commenced to brew a great bowl of\nknot-grass tea. Soon the food was cooked and El Enano fell to as\ngreedily as ever.\n\nThe fox looked at Enano for a while, then said:\n\n\u201cYou have a fine appetite, my friend. What will there be for the men and\nthe women and the children and for me to eat?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may have what I leave, and eat it when I end,\u201d said El Enano.\n\n\u201cLet us hope then that our appetites will be light,\u201d said the fox.\n\nA little later the fox began to act horribly, jumping about the room and\nwhining, and calling the people lazy and inhospitable.\n\n\u201cThink you,\u201d he said, \u201cthat this is the way to treat a visitor? A pretty\nthing indeed to serve one and let the other go hungry. Do I get nothing\nat all to eat? Quick. Bring me potatoes and roast them, or it will be\nbad for all of you. The mischief I do shall be ten times worse than any\ndone already.\u201d\n\nKnowing that some plan was afoot the people ran out of the house and\nsoon came back with potatoes, and the fox showed them how he wanted them\nroasted on the hearth. So they were placed in the ashes and covered with\nhot coals and when they were well done the fox told everyone to take a\npotato, saying that El Enano, who was crunching the bones of the animals\nhe had eaten, would not like them. But all the while the men were\neating, the fox ran from one to another whispering things, but quite\nloud enough for Enano to hear. \u201cHush!\u201d said he. \u201cSay nothing. El Enano\nmust not know how good they are and when he asks for some, tell him that\nthey are all gone.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. Yes,\u201d said the people, keeping in with the plan. \u201cDo not let Enano\nknow.\u201d\n\nBy this time El Enano was suspicious and looked from one man to another.\n\u201cGive me all the potatoes,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cThey are all eaten except mine,\u201d said the fox, \u201cbut you may taste\nthat.\u201d So saying he thrust the roasted potato into the hands of Enano\nand the creature crammed it down its throat at once.\n\n\u201cHa! It is good,\u201d he roared. \u201cGive me more. More. MORE.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe have no more,\u201d said the fox very loud, then, quite softly to those\nwho stood near him, he added, \u201cSay nothing about the potatoes on the\nhearth,\u201d but loudly enough for El Enano to hear, though quite well he\nknew that there were none.\n\n\u201cAh! I heard you,\u201d roared El Enano. \u201cThere are potatoes on the hearth.\nGive them to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe must let him have them,\u201d said the fox, raking the red-hot coals to\nthe front.\n\n\u201cOut of the way,\u201d cried El Enano, reaching over the fox and scooping up\na double handful of hot coals, believing them to be potatoes. Red hot as\nthey were he swallowed them and in another moment was rolling on the\nfloor, howling with pain as the fire blazed in his stomach. Up he leaped\nagain and dashed out of the house to fling himself by the side of the\nlittle river. The water was cool to his face and he drank deep, but the\nwater in his stomach turned to steam, so that he swelled and swelled,\nand presently there was a loud explosion that shook the very hills, and\nEl Enano burst into a thousand pieces.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                             THE HERO TWINS\n\n\nTHERE was once a woman who had two sons and they were twins, so much\nalike that the mother herself could not tell one from the other. So\nHunapu always wore a crimson feather and Balanque a blue one.\n\nAs children they spent their days in the open air, playing in the\nforest, swimming in the lake, and wandering on the plains, and so doing\nthey came to know the animals and the birds, finding the young ones and\nplaying with them, so that it was no uncommon sight to see them come\nhome with a panther following at their heels as a dog does. They knew\nwhere to find the nests of birds of all kinds, fed the young ones, and\npetted them, until with a call they could bring from the trees clouds of\nglorious-coloured birds which would perch on their hands and arms and\nshoulders. And of course it came about in time that when animals and\nbirds gathered about the lads, there was no more fighting between the\nwild creatures than there is between a puppy and a kitten that have been\nraised together.\n\nGrowing up with the wild creatures, wrestling with them and racing with\nthem, the boys grew strong and fleet of foot. They could scale a cliff\nto reach a condor\u2019s nest or climb a tree as swiftly as a monkey, and in\nthe water they were as much at home as on the land. Down into the clear\ndepths they would dive, down in the cool, green lake waters, to bring up\nshells and bright stones, one boy striving with the other, laughing\nmerrily the while. And sitting on the shore in the sunshine they would\noften look across the lake to the faraway mountain, talking about the\ntime when they would adventure there to see what could be seen.\n\nTheir father taught them to shoot straight with the arrow and to use\nwell the spear, and when they were masters of these he made for them\nbreastplates of silver and light helmets that flashed in the sun. And as\ntime went on they wandered here and there, finding other boys of their\nown age, and these, too, had helmets and breastplates of silver made for\nthem by their fathers and had learned the use of the bow and spear,\nuntil at last there was a band of four hundred of which Hunapu and\nBalanque were leaders. Then there were great times with running and\nracing and swimming and wrestling, and soon the Four Hundred had agreed\nthat when one of their number was in trouble not of his own seeking, at\nthe sound of the horn the rest would come to his rescue. But not all the\ntime was spent in play, for the band of the Four Hundred were wise in\nall the arts, playing the flute, working in metals, painting, woodcraft,\nand other like activities.\n\nOne day Hunapu and Balanque were in the forest gathering fruit, when\nthere came to them an old man and wife, weeping sadly. They were\nstrangers to the place and, seeing the two lads in their armour of\nsilver, with bows in their hands and swords by their sides and feathers\nof crimson and of blue in their glittering helmets, they stood for a\nwhile silent. But being asked, they told their tale of how they had\nlived in the mountain on the other side of the lake among a people who\nwere in terror of their lives because of three great and fearful giants\nwho came now and then, taking the cattle and the goats, destroying for\nmere mischief the houses of the people, and sometimes killing the people\nthemselves. Nothing, they said, could withstand the strength of the\ngiants. Stone walls were as mere sticks to them. They uprooted trees or\nturned the courses of rivers by scooping away masses of earth with their\nhands.\n\nHearing that, the twin brothers were greatly disturbed, for as they had\nsat by the lake sometimes, talking of the land far away, they had heard\nstrange noises faintly come over the waters, which they had set down as\nsummer thunders. With the tale of the old man and his wife, they began\nto believe that things were more serious than they had supposed.\nStepping to a place clear of trees Hunapu put his horn to his lips and\nblew long and loudly, three times. Soon from all directions came lads\nrunning, each girt with his sword, his spear in hand and his bow at his\nback, breast-plate and helmet glittering in the bright sun. You can\nfigure for yourself that fine band of clean, straight-limbed fellows,\neach with his drawn sword and silver helmet with drooping plume. You can\nimagine how they looked standing there with the cool, green forest\nbehind them. And there were not only the Four Hundred, but also their\nfriends of the forest, here a puma, there a panther or deer,\nbright-coloured birds, glorious humming-birds and proud llamas, for not\na boy but had his wild creature for a pet.\n\nTo the band of the Four Hundred the old man and his wife told their\ntale, mentioning what they had not done before, that their sons and\ndaughters had been carried off by two of the giants. At that there\nstepped from the ranks a lad with flashing eyes who said that not a year\nshould pass over their heads before the giants were overcome, and a\ngreat shout of joy went up. Then and there the lad who had spoke cried:\n\n\u201cLet everyone step forward who will go to the land of the evil three,\u201d\nand no sooner were the words out of his lips than the whole Four Hundred\nstepped forward. But, as Flashing Eyes said, some must stay at home, for\nthere were things to be done, so he proposed that twenty alone should\ngo. Even then there was no way to decide which of them should be of the\ntwenty, for everyone wanted to go forward to the adventure. At that\nBalanque offered to go alone to the land, to see what would be the best\nplan to pursue, but again there was trouble, for each of the Four\nHundred wanted to go with him. So at last it was decided to leave the\nmatter to be settled by chance. Each one was to call to his pet wild\ncreature, and the first two touched would go to the land of the giants.\nThen a great calling went up, a naming of names, a whistling, and a\nmaking of noises like the call of animals, and from the leafy caves came\nthe pets, running, leaping, flying. Each lad there had hung his sword\nand bow on a branch and stood with arms outstretched to welcome his pet,\nand there was much laughter and good spirit. Down from the sky came\nsweeping a hawk, straight as an arrow, and it lit on the shoulder of\nBalanque. At the very same moment a llama thrust its nose into the neck\nof Hunapu, and that only a second before a fleet deer had leaped to the\nside of Flashing Eyes. So all there knew that the twin brothers were\nchosen to go into the land and there was no more arguing about it. That\nnight the band slept under the brilliant stars and the next morning\nthere went up a great shout as at sunrise the brothers set off, every\none of the Four Hundred knocking his sword on his shield by way of\nsalute. From the top of a ridge the twins waved their band a farewell,\nthen they turned and a moment later were lost to view, and the members\nof the band went each about his own affairs, ready to come at a call.\n\nAll that day and the next they travelled, and on the morning of the\nthird day they came to a place where were great black rocks, and hills\nall treeless and bare, and near the noon hour they saw a great cave in\nthe mountainside, the floor of which was strewn with bones of animals,\nsome of the bones indeed being great things as big as a man, from a\ncreature of which the boys had never seen the like. These bones had been\ncracked for the marrow in them and the teeth marks told their tale of\nthe size of the giant who had eaten them.\n\nTo a top of the mountain the boys climbed, and when they had gained the\nsummit, there at their feet was a great hollow place and at the other\nend sat a monstrous fellow, his hands on his knees, his body swaying to\nand fro. He was rumbling and grumbling and peering here and there in a\nqueer way. The boys noticed that he did not turn his head to look with a\nsweep of the eyes as they did, or as you do, turning to see in a\nsemi-circle or over a greater extent. His way was different. He would\nturn his head in a certain direction with his eyes closed, then open\nthem and look. From the place where his glance lit he could not turn. If\nhe wanted to look somewhere else, he had to close his eyes and begin\nagain, so that his looking was more like shooting a bullet at a mark\nthan anything, and if he missed, he missed, and had to begin again. And\nof course he often missed. Yet it was his way, and he must have been\nvery satisfied with it to judge by the song he sang, which was this:\n\n                   \u201cMy name is Cakix,\n                   Yukub\u2014Cakix.\n                   My eyes are bright as silver,\n                   They gleam like precious stones.\n                   My name is Cakix,\n                   Yukub\u2014Cakix.\n                   Cakix!\n                   Cakix!\u201d\n\nOver and over again he sang that. Then, with a tremendous roar, he\nshouted:\n\n                       \u201cI am Cakix,\n                       Yukub\u2014Cakix,\n                       And all men fear me!\u201d\n\nThen the twins, hearing that idle boast, stood on the hilltop and\nshouted:\n\n\u201cCatch us, Cakix, if you can. We come to make an end of you.\u201d\n\nFor a moment the giant sat still in sheer astonishment, his eyes closed,\nhis ear cupped in his hand to catch the direction of the sound. The boys\nsaw his great face turn in their direction, and they skipped to the\nright and left so as to be out of his sight, and well it was that they\ndid so, for out over the valley shot his arm, lengthening like elastic,\nand his great fingers reached over the rock where the twins had stood,\nand went feeling like five blind snakes. Finding nothing, the hand\npicked up the rock, though it was as large as a house, and back went the\narm getting shorter, until the giant had the rock under his nose. Then\nhe shut his eyes, turned his face down, opened his eyes again, and\nexamined the rock. Finding nothing he cast it away with a sudden jerk,\nmuch as you jerk off some insect that drops on your hand unexpectedly.\nCakix sat awhile, then rose to his feet and strode straight down the\nvalley to where the boys had been, looking straight ahead, of course. He\nwent to a tree a little way off, plucked some fruit which looked like\nwild cherries, though each was as large as a pumpkin, and blundered off\nwithout seeing the boys who crouched low and out of his sight.\n\nAs soon as the giant had gone the twins ran down into the valley and\nthere they saw, in great caves in the hills to the right and left,\nhidden heaps of flashing, precious stones\u2014diamonds, emeralds, rubies,\nopals\u2014dazzling in the sunshine. In other holes were heaped gold dust\nand silver. While looking they were startled to hear a new roaring, this\ntime from the hill to which Cakix had gone. Soon the roar formed into\nwords and they heard:\n\n                   \u201cI am Cabrakan,\n                   Cabrakan who shakes the earth,\n                   Cabrakan who shakes the sky.\n                   I am Cabrakan,\n                   Master of men.\u201d\n\nIt was another giant, but him they did not see. Scrambling out of the\nvalley they reached the hilltop to see Cakix coming back to his valley.\nHe stopped at the tree where he had stopped before and took some more\nfruit, then strode down the hill, marking time as he walked with his:\n\n                            \u201cI am Ca-kix\n                            Yu-kub\u2014Ca-kix\n                            All men fear me.\u201d\n\nHe sat down in his old seat, his hands again on his knees, his body\nswaying. He seemed uncomfortable and restless, much as if he expected\ndanger, getting to his feet every now and then, peering about, going to\nhis tree to eat fruit and returning again to his seat. In fact, about\nevery hour he went to his fruit tree.\n\nSeeing that, the lads had an idea, and running to the fruit tree,\nclimbed into it, hiding themselves in the thick branches, but no sooner\nwere they safely there than they heard the monster coming.\n\nIn a very short while they felt the tree shake with the giant\u2019s heavy\ntread, for he was on his way to take another meal. Then in less time\nthan it takes to count six he was at the tree, his great blue face\nhiding the scenery. Quick as lightning, Hunapu fitted an arrow to his\nbow, drew the string to his bow, and let fly. The shaft struck the ugly\nfellow in the chin, but so tough was his skin that the barb only pierced\nto his jaw. Still, the pain of it was enough to send him away roaring.\nBack he went to his valley and threw himself down, groaning and weeping.\nThere was no loud song from him now.\n\nThe boys descended from their tree and marched down to where Cakix lay,\ntaking good care to keep out of the way of his great kicking feet.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d asked the giant when he saw them. \u201cAnd what do you want\nhere?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are doctors,\u201d they answered. \u201cHearing your roar of pain, we came to\nhelp. It is your teeth that need attention. Let us take out your bad\nteeth and you will be at ease.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut my teeth are my strength,\u201d said the giant. \u201cMen do not know it,\u201d he\nadded with the lack of suspicion of all giants.\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d answered the twins. \u201cWe will pull out the old teeth and put new\nones in their place.\u201d\n\nThe giant opened his mouth and to work they went with hammers and bars\nof iron, and in a short time had his teeth all out. True to their\npromise they put new teeth in place of the old, but the new teeth they\nfitted were made of grains of corn, and as soon as Cakix tried to eat\nwith them he found out his error. So in a short while he died from\nstarvation, and the earth was rid of one of the monsters.\n\nThere was great joy among the band of Four Hundred when the hero\nbrothers returned and told their story, for they were glad of the good\nfortune of the twins and full of rejoicing that the world had one\nmonster the less in it. And after a week of resting, there came a day\nwhen the whole band, bright in their polished armour and gay with\nfeathers and flowers, set off for the Stone Mountain to bring back the\ntreasures and to slay the remaining giants. But the tale is so long and\nso interesting, that it must be left for another chapter.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                            THE FOUR HUNDRED\n\n\nSINGING and waving banners, the four hundred youths with the twin\nbrothers at their head, all of them slim and well formed, brown of skin\nand straight of limb, marched forth to the land of the giants, their\neyes bent on the far mountains all wrapped in a blue, floating mist. No\nfaint hearts were there, nor among them were bullies or cowards. Not one\nthere but could run, leap, shoot straight, and look his friend in the\neye. From shields of silver the sunlight flashed, spearheads were like\npoints of hard light and each helmet was plumed. Bows were slung across\nshoulders and swords were at sides, and sandalled feet marched in step.\nNo food they bore nor were they otherwise burdened, for well each knew\nthe way of the forest and the trick of lake and stream; well each knew\nthe fruit-bearing trees and the bushes that were berry-hung, and at\nnight their roof was the star-sprinkled sky.\n\nStraight as an arrow was their course to the west, to the land of vast\nrocks, and gullies like axe-clefts in the earth. Straight to the west,\nnot turning for swift-flowing stream nor yellow marsh; plunging through\nforest, climbing mountain, scaling cliff. Straight to the west to the\nplace where the twin brothers had been before, until they came to the\nvalley of Cakix and saw his bones already white, picked by carrion\nbirds. There, too, they saw the caves where were heaps of glittering\ndiamonds, rubies like fire, emeralds cool green like the caves of the\nsea. Gold, too, and silver were there, but no heed gave they to all\nthat, counting such things but as toys for children, when great things\nhad to be done.\n\nScouting far and wide to hilltop and rocky ridge, going by twos in vast\ncircles until they met again, they swept the land, seeing sign of\nneither Cabrakan nor of the giant Zipacna, and when the band met again\nall were prepared to fare farther in their quest. None was for\nreturning, \u201cfor,\u201d said they, \u201cthere is an evil thing to put out of the\nland and the swifter the foul task is done the better.\u201d\n\nThe second day of their quest they came to a great forest and there they\nwere set upon by great monkeys that came in hundreds and tens of\nhundreds, leaping at them and snarling, baring teeth and fiercely\nchattering. For a while it looked of ill omen, but knowing that together\nthey could meet much the Four Hundred formed a square, so facing north\nand east and south and west, a line of lads kneeling with pointing\nspears, others behind them with spears over the shoulders of those that\nknelt. In vain the apes dashed at them, for not a spear was lowered nor\ndid heart grow faint. But the air throbbed with the cries of the hairy\nthings and they came in ever-increasing numbers, striving to break by\nsheer weight the spear-bristling square. All that day they came, hurling\nthemselves against the square until the dead things lay in masses, those\nthat were wounded screaming in pain and anger as they turned again to\nthe forest, and when the dropping sun touched the hills and the green\nbecame black, the evil things, finding their work in vain, gave up the\nfight and fled snarling.\n\nSo the Four Hundred all unharmed, weary, though light of heart because\nof the great fellowship that was shown to be among them, shouldered\ntheir spears, re-slung their bows and marched on, until coming to a\nnoisy stream they washed themselves and their weapons. Then in the white\nmoonlight they slept, each with his sword at hand, while some watched,\non guard for that which might threaten.\n\nWhen the sky was rose-tinted again they went on their way, making for a\nnarrow pass like a sword-slash in the mountains, and by noon they had\nreached the stony cut. High and bare were the white rocks on either side\nand gloomy was the pass, nor of living thing was there sign save a\ncondor wheeling high. But from the rocks came strange noises, whistlings\nand screamings, then of a sudden, like a thunder clap, a mighty roar as\nfrom many voices, and the noise of it echoed and re-echoed from rock to\nrock so that the din was deafening, and when they spoke one to another,\nmouth went to ear and hands were cupped. Then, when they were well\nwithin the pass, marching over a floor so covered with sharp-pointed\nrocks and great round boulders that they had to slacken their pace,\nthere came from above a great rock which fell ahead of their path so as\nto block the way, except for a narrow passage on either side. Looking\nup, they saw, crowded on the tops of the high cliffs on every hand,\nsnag-toothed, evil-eyed fellows who crawled about the rocks as though\nthey had been lizards, so sure of foot were they. They knew then that\nthey were in the land of the wild men of the mountain, the crag men,\nfellows strong and stark, full of hate and viciousness.\n\nOf a sudden, from one of the creatures who stood far up in the cleft of\na rock, one whose hair and beard were long and white and tangled, came a\nhoarse cry, and lifting high above his head a rock greater than ten\narmadillos he cast it downward with great force. Ill would it have been\nfor any youth struck by it, but so badly and swiftly was it thrown that\nit passed over the heads of all, struck the wall on the farther side,\nand burst into a hundred pieces. So the youth with the bright eyes\ncalled on his fellows to hold their shields above their heads, edge to\nedge and overlapping in such wise as to form a roof, which they did.\nWell it was thus, for stones rattled down like hail, some so great that\nthose on whom they fell were almost borne to earth with the sheer\nweight, for the men of the crags were many and strong. Yet the weight\nbeing shared by reason of the jointed shields, all went well, for each\nyouth\u2019s care was for his fellow.\n\nIn one place the pass ran narrow, and there one of the crag men, a\nfellow of great animal strength and swiftness, suddenly leaped down and\nbore one of the twin brothers to earth by the violence of his flight\nthrough the air, for the men of the crags leaped from rock to rock like\nwildcats. It was Balanque who was thus struck down, but he was on his\nfeet in an instant, drew his sword hastily, and as the crag man rushed\nat him with jaws all foam-flecked and horrible he passed his blade\nthrough the crag man\u2019s chest. But the fellow was like a wild boar,\npressing on regardless of the hurt, so that he ran up onto the hilt,\ncaught the youth by the waist, and flung him over his shoulder. In a\nmoment more he would have been on his way up the face of the cliff. As\nit was, seeing what had come to pass, the crag men set up a great\nyelling and screaming, thinking that victory already lay with their man.\nBut Bright Eyes was not idle. He fitted an arrow to his bow and let fly,\nthe shaft passing through the crag man\u2019s neck, so that he stood, as it\nwere, spitted, and let Balanque fall. Pierced though he was with both\narrow and sword, yet there was life in him and he fled to the rock face\nand clambered up, leaving a trail of red wherever he passed, and was\nseen no more by any of the band.\n\nNo pause all this while was there in the shower of stones, but, shields\nwell locked, the band pressed on, foot by foot, each youth stern to win\nand proud of his companion, each youth keeping the eye of hope on the\nthin, bright strip of blue at the end of the pass where the mountains\nwould fall away. And there they came at last, toil-worn but\nheart-strong, to the plain where the crag men dared not follow, some of\nthem almost weeping for joy because shoulder to shoulder they had again\nfought their way through a great danger and an evil place, where, had\nbut one failed, all might have been lost.\n\nThere were four hundred and two happy youths that night, though the\nplace where they slept was bare of grass and trees, and in the morning\nthey were well rested and strong, for as they had lived well and cleanly\nand none having a darkened window in his breast, their sinews were as\nsteel, and every day was a new life in which to enter with eyes bright\nand shining.\n\nThe sun had not far risen; indeed, there seemed but a hand\u2019s breadth\nbetween the lower edge of it and the world\u2019s edge, when a great wonder\nappeared before their eyes. It was as if the sun were suddenly blotted\nout, for what they had taken to be a low, faintly rising hill in the\neast had risen up, stood for a moment like a vast cloud, then passed\nswiftly to the south. At the same time there came a roar like thunder\nfrom the cloudlike form, which came near to deafening them. And the roar\nformed into words:\n\n          \u201cI am Zipacna whom men cannot slay,\n          There\u2019s naught that I fear save the watery way.\u201d\n\nThat rolled rumblingly as thunderings between earth and sky, now loud,\nnow softer, as Zipacna strode from valley to valley. A little later he\ncame in sight again, but far to the north of where they were, then\nvanished from their sight into the cleft of the hills where they had\nbattled with the crag men.\n\nNow fearful as was the sight of the giant, yet no fear was in any heart,\nso, having made a meal and rested for a season, without more to-do they\nset off for the place from which the giant had arisen. It was long\nbefore they got there, but at last they stood on the edge of a long and\nnarrow ca\u00f1on at the end of which was a mighty pile of bones, not alone\nof animals but also of men, and there were human skulls there and shells\nof sea-crabs, and in and among all these crawled venomous serpents. But\nmost of all were there sea-crab shells.\n\nWhile they gazed at this sorrowful sight, there came to them a bent old\nwoman, sad of face and lined and wrinkled, and her talk was more like\ncroaking than human speech. Secret and watchful was she in her manner.\nTo the twin brothers and Bright Eyes, who stood a little apart from the\nrest of the band, she spoke, asking them:\n\n\u201cWhat do ye here, my fine fellows? And why come ye to this place of evil\nand misery?\u201d\n\nOne of the three answered boldly that they came to slay the giant\nZipacna, telling her that he was a thing of evil and that evil things\nmust be laid low if the world is to be fair.\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d said she, \u201cye are doubtless prepared to die, for in times past\nmany have thought to slay Zipacna, but themselves have been led into\nfeasting and into pleasure and soft living, and so the memory of the\ngood that was intended, passed and became less than a dream.\u201d\n\nHer words they found strange, but she went on to tell them of a land\nover the hill where all was fair and where none had to work and where\nthe sun shone. There seemed but little meaning in her words.\n\nBut they made answer, saying: \u201cWe have but one desire, which is to slay\nZipacna for the evil that he has done and must do. As for your land of\nfine things, if to live there would make us soft and idle, then must our\neyes be closed to it.\u201d\n\nHearing that, the old woman seemed pleased and the shadow of a smile\ntouched her face. But her manner changed swiftly it seemed, for she shot\na question at them which was this: \u201cYou passed the caves of Cakix whose\nbones now are white? Give me then of the precious stones that lay in the\ncaves there,\u201d and so saying, stretched forth her skinny arm, her hand\nhollowed to receive gifts.\n\n\u201cIt was not for such toys that we came. We saw but touched not the\nprecious stones, nor the gold, nor anything that was there. Indeed, to\nhave done so would but have hampered us in the doing of that which we\nset out to do.\u201d Thus Hunapu made reply and the others nodded.\n\n\u201cAnd how did ye escape the apes of the forest?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cWe stood side by side and met danger.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the men of the crags, how fared ye with them?\u201d\n\nBright Eyes answered quietly: \u201cEach covered himself and his neighbour as\nwell as he could and so we came out with whole skins.\u201d\n\nA silence fell then, the three saying nothing because of the woman\u2019s\ngreat age, though her words and questions seemed to lack meaning. What\nshe said further was a greater riddle still. \u201cIt was well done,\u201d she\ntold them, and nodded slowly. \u201cNow a greater task lies before. It is one\nin which each of your band must meet danger separately and to his peril,\nif eyes are not lit and feet swift. More than that I cannot tell. But go\nonward until the sea is reached and there is a lake of water. Whoso\ntouches that water is turned to stone, so take heed. But well indeed\nwill it be if Zipacna is led there. Have ye not heard him sing:\n\n          I am Zipacna whom men cannot slay.\n          There\u2019s naught that I fear save the watery way?\n\nHeard ye not that at sunrise?\u201d\n\nThen she said no more but turned away. Now as she took a step her staff\nfell from her unsteady hands and Bright Eyes picked it up and gave it to\nher. That seemed to open her lips again, for she told them:\n\n\u201cHearken, one and all. Many are there like swine, who live but to eat,\nand Zipacna is of that sort. Watch well by the sea shore to the end that\nye see the things that may lead to his destruction.\u201d There was no more.\nShe passed down the hill and disappeared behind a thorn-bush and at the\nmoment that she vanished from their sight a white puma leaped out from\nthe other side, by which they saw that she knew of white witcheries.\n\nThe band lost no time in turning their steps seaward, and although the\nday was hot and the place inviting, would not rest in a valley through\nwhich they passed, a place rich in fruits and soft with silk grass. That\nevening they came to the sea, and at the foot of a cliff saw a great\nlake of water so clear and blue that their eyes could follow, dropping\nfrom rock ledge to rock ledge, down the slope of the side until they saw\nthe stones and the sand on the bottom. But there were no swaying\nwater-weeds, nor was there living thing. Another thing they saw which\nbrought the words of the old woman to their minds, for thrown aside on\nthe beach were hundreds and thousands of sea-crab shells, from which\nthey knew that it was the sea-crab that Zipacna loved to eat above all\nthings.\n\nNow they also saw that by some chance a great tree had fallen, and one\nend of it rested in the water of the lake, and that end had turned to\nstone. Another thing they saw, for on the farther side of the lake was a\nbed of blue-black clay and the colour of it was the colour of the shell\nof a sea-crab. So after some thought and some talk many of the lads went\ndeftly to work fashioning of the clay a great sea-crab, so great that\nthe like was never seen. Others dragged to the lake straight tree-trunks\nwhich they laid side by side with the tree already there, and the end of\nthe stick was turned to stone as soon as it touched the water, the rest\nof the tree changing more slowly. All that night they wrought, making\nthe great crab and setting it on the sloping tree-trunks, so that when\nmorning broke, that which they had set out to do was finished, and while\nit was yet gray dawn they set off for the place where Zipacna dwelt.\n\nBut not all the band went. Here a lad was left, a little way off\nanother, then another and another, each hiding behind rock or tussock or\nthorn-bush or tree. So hid, one by one, fifty, a hundred, two hundred,\nuntil at last there were left Balanque, Hunapu, and Bright Eyes. Then at\nthe foot of a hill Bright Eyes sat down and Hunapu crouched on the\nshoulder of another hill that stood alone. So, the band being all\nhidden, it fell out that Balanque alone went to the place where they had\nmet the old woman. He fell to making a great outcry, calling on Zipacna\nto come forth and rattling his sword on his shield merrily.\n\n\u201cOh! Coward!\u201d he called. \u201cCome forth and be slain as was your brother\nCakix, whose bones are now scattered and white.\u201d\n\nIn a voice of thunder Zipacna cried:\n\n          \u201cI am Zipacna whom men cannot slay.\n          There\u2019s naught that I fear but the watery way.\u201d\n\nOver and over he chanted that, now roaring, now grumbling as grunts a\nswine when it would rest. But always Balanque taunted him, calling him a\ncoward giant, telling him that his days were short, and reminding him of\nthe fate of Cakix.\n\nAt last the slow blood of the giant was on fire and he rose on his elbow\nto look. For a time he saw nothing, being slow of sight and moreover\nlooking too high, little dreaming that his noisy champion was so small.\nWhen he saw Balanque at last, his hand shot out, but Balanque was swift,\nand like the wind fled at top speed to where his brother Hunapu lay.\nDown dropped Balanque and up sprang Hunapu, clearing the ground like a\ndeer, with Zipacna in full chase, the giant little dreaming that he was\nfollowing a new man. But Hunapu, fresh and rested, did as his brother\nhad done and sped to the foot of the hill where Bright Eyes lay. Then\nlike an arrow went Bright Eyes to the thorn-bush where Huno was, and\nHuno in his turn darted to the tree where Chimal rested. So also Chimal\nraced, and each of the band did the same when his turn came, the giant\nZipacna following, no more knowing one lad from the other than one ant\ncan be told from its fellow. And in the rear those who had dropped to\nhide gathered again, so that three companions became five, five became\nten, and ten became fifty, while over hill and valley and marsh, through\nthorn-thicket and wooded hill, Zipacna rushed, each lad leading him on\nhis dance, each companion rising from his resting-place, ready and\nswift. And so each of that band met danger alone to the end that all\nmight be safe.\n\nAt last the merry chase led Zipacna to the cliff, and there below him he\nsaw what he took to be a mighty crab on the tree-trunks, ready to drop\ninto the water of the lake, and at the sight of it his mouth watered and\nhis eyes grew large. A touch of his foot sent the crab sliding into the\nwater, and to save it Zipacna thrust out his hand. But he bent never to\nstraighten again. Solid and firm was he fixed, the crab a crab of stone,\nhis hand a hand of stone. Solid and firm was he fixed, a crouching giant\nin a crystal lake, where he stands to this day.\n\nAs for the band of Four Hundred, many other valiant deeds did they in\nthe land, but through all, never was the thread of their fellowship\nbroken or tangled, and if evil threatened one, then no rest of stay had\nthe others until all was well again.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                        THE KILLING OF CABRAKAN\n\n\nCABRAKAN the giant was slain by the twin brothers and the manner of his\nkilling was thus:\n\nAfter the death of Cakix and the turning to stone of Zipacna, Cabrakan\nkept close to the stony land, but one day venturing over the mountains\nwhere lived the crag men, he came upon a herd of goats that had wandered\nout of the way, and gathering them into a corral formed of his legs as\nhe sat upon the ground, he swallowed them one by one, as a child\nswallows berries. The goatherd saw him from the shelter of a tree, where\nhe hid himself when he first set eyes on Cabrakan. On the next day the\ngiant came again to the same place where he had fared so well, and\nseeing a house a little way off went there and made a meal of the\ncattle, leaving the man of the house in sorry case. The third day he\nventured farther, sitting down at noon by the side of a village and\npicking up and eating such living creatures as he chanced to see, much\nas an ant-eater picks up ants. Nor was there aught to hinder him, for\nthe people fled to the woods when they heard the earth tremble under his\ntread. So, soon, the tale of how Cabrakan was robbing men came to the\nears of the twin brothers, and they swore to stay his high hand\nforevermore.\n\nNow Cabrakan knew of the manner in which Cakix had been laid low and\nknew also how Zipacna had met his end, so by neither of these ways was\nit possible to destroy him. He had also pondered in his slow way, laying\nhalf-plans to slay the twin brothers did he ever lay hands on them.\nCabrakan was the mightiest of giants and vain of his strength, and in\nthat vanity lay his weakness.\n\nOne day there came a mighty storm and a turmoil of wind and water, of\nthunder and lightning, so that the trees of the forest were laid low and\nthe rocks uprooted, while the thunderings of the sea-waves shook the\nvery barancas. Black were the heavens and clouds flew fast and low, so\nthat Cabrakan in his long life had seen nothing like it, and his heart\nfailed him. Nor did he rise all that day from the shelter of the\nmountain where he had cast himself on the ground, until the black had\nchanged to gray and the wind was abated. But when the clouds had passed\nand the sky was again moonlit, he saw on a hilltop a little way off the\ntwin brothers, Hunapu and Balanque. While the storm had raged they were\nsheltered in a cave, and from it they had seen Cabrakan as he ran before\nthe storm to seek the shelter of the mountain. To their ears, when there\nwere wind lulls, came the sound of mighty whimpering and wailing from\nthe giant, by which they knew that his heart was far from stout.\n\nSeeing the twin brothers, Cabrakan rose to his feet and asked them what\nthey did there, and would have said more had he not suddenly found his\nmind a blank. So he fell back on his chant, though there was a quaver in\nhis voice because of the fear in him that had not yet died, the fear of\nthe storm:\n\n                   \u201cI am Cabrakan,\n                   Cabrakan who shakes the earth,\n                   Cabrakan who shakes the sky,\n                   I am Cabrakan,\n                   Master of men!\u201d\n\nWhen he had made an end of his song Hunapu spoke and said, boldly\nenough: \u201cIt is well, Cabrakan. Strong thou art, but so also are we\nstrong. Have you not seen how with our breaths we laid low the trees of\nthe forest? Saw ye not how we blew and the rocks were uprooted? How,\nalso, the skies were darkened? But that was a small matter, for there\nare things to be done, and in this upsetting of the world my brother\nalone worked. Now must two of us work, so prepare yourself well, O\nCabrakan, lest a giant be blown over the edge of the world where is\nneither resting-place nor foothold. A trifling matter indeed was the\nstorm.\u201d\n\nHearing that, a deep misgiving was in the heart of Cabrakan. He rubbed\nhis eyes and looked with astonishment at the twin brothers, so slight of\nbuild, so ruddy and fair, and seeing them and remembering the storm he\ncould find no words.\n\nThen said Balanque, as had been before agreed between the brothers, and\nspeaking as if in deep thought: \u201cPerhaps it might be better if Cabrakan\njoined us. It is true that he, the earth-shaker, is after all but weak,\nbut if he be taught to eat of cooked flesh in the manner of men, it may\nbe that he too may grow strong as we are.\u201d\n\nHearing that, the giant pricked up his ears, thinking, in the dull\nmanner of giants, that if he did but play a little to mislead the twin\nbrothers he might persuade them to let him eat of cooked meats, when,\nhis strength becoming greater, he might rid the earth of two who had\nraised so mighty and fearful a storm. Perchance then, thought he, I\nshall rule the land alone. So he said, cunningly: \u201cLet me try my\nstrength against yours awhile, and if I be found weak, then cook me the\nfood that men eat, so that I may become strong and thus your useful\nslave.\u201d\n\nAt that the twin brothers pretended to consult a little, Hunapu acting\nas if he wished to raise another whirlwind, Balanque as if soothing him,\nwhile Cabrakan stood watching them, a heavy fear in his bones.\n\n\u201cLet Cabrakan,\u201d said Hunapu presently, \u201coverturn and pluck out the\nentrails of this mountain to prove himself.\u201d Having so said, he turned\naside, but after a moment added, as if his mind had changed on the\nmatter: \u201cYet how does it matter? We need no Cabrakan to aid us. Perhaps\nit were better that I cast it over with a breath, even though Cabrakan\nbe blown like a leaf over the edge of the world.\u201d\n\nNow though the world in which the giant lived was rocky and bare, yet it\nlooked fair to him and he had no mind to be cast into nothingness. So he\nmade his face fierce and told Hunapu that he was willing to prove his\nstrength. Hunapu, still playing a part, looked scornfully at the giant\nas he said: \u201cIt is after all but a child\u2019s matter, but if the mountain\nbe overturned, then shall the food of men be yours and your body made\nstrong and your wits sharpened.\u201d\n\nCabrakan lost no more time but raised his shoulders and put forth his\narms as one about to wrestle. \u201cLet none meddle with me,\u201d he said, \u201cand\nbefore the day breaks I shall pluck out the mountain by its roots.\u201d So,\na mountain of flesh against the moonlit sky, he strode in five great\nstrides to the side of the mountain and flung his arms about it. First\nhe made a shift to pluck it straight from the earth, his feet set wide\napart, his muscles strained and knotted. Again he strove to overturn it,\nnow with shoulder fast-braced against the sheer rock, his legs like\ntowers. That failing, he strove furiously, now battering like a madman,\nnow pressing and stamping, so that there was a trembling all about like\nan earthquake. So great was his strength that the side of the mountain\nbroke open and a clear stream gushed forth, the water twisting and\nturning along the plain like a silver snake. All that night and morning\nhe wrestled with the mountain and as the day wore on he grew tired and\nweary, but there was no result of his labours except the tumbling stream\nand two great holes in the black living rock at the foot of the mountain\nwhere his feet had pushed. But where his arms had encircled, the\nmountain was worn smooth and bare, the very rock was polished and shone\nin the sunlight. Grunting and groaning Cabrakan toiled, until at length,\nseeing that he had grown too weak for mischief, Hunapu called on him to\nrest awhile.\n\n\u201cHold thee a little,\u201d he said. \u201cThis eating of the goats and the cattle\nof men will make no living thing strong. A heart thou lackest. Like an\narrowless quiver or a stringless bow art thou. In the food of men alone\nis strength, O Cabrakan, so that must we eat, and the meal being done\nthings of worth may be seen.\u201d\n\nWell pleased to hear that, the weary giant cast himself down on the\nground and rubbed his palms one against another to ease them, but as he\nlay there resting many a look he gave at the motionless mountain, the\nglistening head of which he had tried in vain to tear from the sky. Also\nmost heartily he wished that the thing was at an end, or that the twin\nbrothers had stayed away from that place.\n\nBalanque kindled a fire and Hunapu shot an eagle and slowly they roasted\nthe bird, the smell of it pleasing the giant vastly, for he had never\ntasted cooked meat, nor indeed knew any method of preparing it.\n\nNow in that land there grows a sort of mountain-laurel bearing a red\nberry within a pod, and its power is such that whoso eats of it will\nwaste away as the morning mist passes before the warming sun. Many of\nthese berries Hunapu took and placed in the flesh of the roasted eagle,\nfor certain it was that neither Balanque nor his brother could leave\nthat place with the giant unslain. So the roasted eagle with the berries\nin it they gave to Cabrakan, who swallowed it at a single gulp.\n\nAt first he felt strong as ten giants and leaped to his feet, minded to\npluck the mountain from the earth and cast it on the twin brothers.\nFiercely he gripped, so fiercely that the top of the mountain opened and\nsteam came forth and a black smoke rose in the air, spreading in the\nform of a vast tree; so vast it was, that it formed a cloud that veiled\nthe sun so that the light sickened for a time and a pale yellow touched\nall things. From the top of the mountain there gushed forth hot lava\nthat glowed as it spread; that came faster soon, in roaring masses. But\nCabrakan rapidly waxed weak with the poison of the berries, so weak that\nhe clung for support to the mountain he would have plucked forth. And as\nhis strength waned, the malice within him grew, and dark were the looks,\nevil the eye he cast on the twin brothers.\n\nBut his day was done and his course was run. Soon his eyes grew dim and\nin very weariness his head fell against the brow of the mountain. Fast\nand deep for a while came his breath, his chest heaving like a sullen\nsea when the storm has died. Then his strength fell away altogether and\nhe sank to the earth and the lava covered him.\n\nSo came to an end Cabrakan, the earth-shaker and master of men, and thus\ndid the twin brothers finish that which they had set out to do.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                      THE TALE OF THE GENTLE FOLK\n\n\nLET me see. This story begins at the time I climbed down the Andes on\nthe east side and came upon a house by a lake. There were two children\nliving there, one named Juan, the other, his sister, named Juanita, and\nthe boy was seven years old and the girl nine. They had never seen a\nschool, and the nearest house was more than fifty miles away. Still they\nhad books, knew how to read, and I do not think that they ever found the\nday long. For one thing the lake was not at all deep, and a little bit\noff from the shore of it was a small island. That was a kind of\nplayground for them, and often they paddled their boat to it in the\nearly morning and stayed there all day.\n\nThere were other things highly interesting. On the second day that I was\nthere, I saw their tame ostrich, a great gray bird that they had had for\ntwo years, and now and then Juan would ride it, Delicia, which was the\nname of the ostrich, spreading his wings like sails, and running out in\na wide zigzag circle on the pampa, caring no more for the light weight\non his back than a chicken would care for a fly. Somehow, the birds of\nthat place were no more afraid of the children than the cat is afraid of\nyou, and they knew places where they could see the flamingo with its\nscarlet cloak, the cowbird all glossy violet, the lapwings making a\ndrumming music, gray and white scissortail with feathers a foot long,\nand red oven-birds. But their great pet was the huanaco, tall and\nproud-looking, all yellow and white, like a camel without a hump, about\nthe size of a donkey. They called him Campe\u00f3n, and he had been on the\nplace as long as the children could remember. Their father, who owned\nmany sheep, had found him when he was no larger than a fox, brought him\nto the house, and he had become as tame as a pet lamb. Both Juan and\nJuanita would roll over on him as he lay in the sun, burying their faces\nin his gold-coloured fur, hugging his long neck, wrestling with him\nuntil he got up and walked away to find a quieter place. They would use\nhim as a horse, harnessing him to a little wagon, and all would go well\nsometimes, but sometimes not so well, for Campe\u00f3n taking it into his\nhead to run, the wagon would upset, the children roll out on the soft\ngrass, and in a moment Campe\u00f3n would free himself from the harness,\ngoing in great leaps to find a little hill where he would perch himself\non the crest and stand like a sentinel.\n\nNow one day the man who was my travelling companion was out with his\nrifle, and coming upon old Campe\u00f3n standing on a high rock, took him for\na strange and wild animal, and, like many thoughtless men with a gun,\nfollowed his impulse and shot. Campe\u00f3n was badly wounded, and doubtless\nastonished to receive such treatment from the hands of a man. Anyway he\nlimped on three legs to the house. Juan and Juanita grieved sadly, their\nparents no less, and all was done for Campe\u00f3n that could be done. As for\nmy friend, seeing what had happened, he was the most sorrowful of us\nall. For a time it seemed as though Campe\u00f3n would get better, but one\nday he was plainly worse. All that day he rested on the sheltered side\nof the house, refusing food and water, his finely shaped head proudly\nupright, his eyes turned to the south, and the next morning there was no\nsign of him. From the hill on which he had stood we could see for miles\nand miles, and Juanita and I went there, taking a telescope, and we\nsearched the country far and wide. In the afternoon we saddled horses\nand rode many, many miles until we came to a belt of sandy soil that ran\neast and west, and there we saw the trail of our Campe\u00f3n going straight\nsouth. So we turned home sadly enough, for we knew that we would see the\ngentle beast no more.\n\nAnd this is why: If you have read the \u201cArabian Nights,\u201d you will\nremember, in the story of Sindbad the Sailor, that it is told that he\ndiscovered a wonderful valley in which were the bones of hundreds and\nthousands of elephants. Whether there is any truth or not in that, I do\nnot know, but I do know that in south Patagonia there is a vast valley\ncalled the Valley of the Gallegos and there the huanacos go to lay down\ntheir bones when they feel the coming of death. And beautiful Campe\u00f3n,\nthough he had never seen that valley, somehow felt that he must find it,\nbeing so wounded and sick, and while we slept that moonlight night, had\nleft us. Both Juan and Juanita knew well enough that they would never\nsee Campe\u00f3n dead, for they had heard the story of the huanaco valley as\noften as you have the story of Cinderella. So had I heard it, and that\nnight when we fell to talking about Campe\u00f3n, a gaucho who looked after\nthe horses told us the story again, and this is what he said:\n\n                 *        *        *        *        *\n\nLong, long ago, when there were giants and before there were horses in\nthis land, there lived a gentle people who did not know sickness or pain\nor anger. They moved about among the animals and the birds as we move\nabout among the flowers in the garden, and men were much kinder and the\nmaidens more graceful and beautiful than any on the earth to-day. The\ncolours of the birds were brighter and the scent of the flowers sweeter\nthan now; the sun was never too hot nor the wind too cold. What was more\nwonderful, the Gentle People had a strange power by means of which they\ncould change flowers into living things which turned to bright-coloured\nbirds.\n\nNow and then there would be great gatherings, when all the Gentle People\nwould come together before their prince who sat on a throne decked with\nprecious stones. And the people who loved him for his wisdom as well as\nfor his goodness brought to him at such times gold and silver and\ndiamonds and rubies and glittering precious stones, and these he would\ngive to the young people to play with, for in those days people loved\nthings for their beauty alone. The birds and animals too would join in\nthe gathering, and the air would be full of song and colour and the\nscent of woods and flowers. On that day each person there would have his\nor her wish granted, whatever it was. To be sure, where was so much that\nwas good, it seemed hard to wish for anything at all.\n\nThere was one thing only that was forbidden to the Gentle People, which\nwas to go north until they saw no more the stars of the Southern Cross\nin the sky, for after many days\u2019 journey, they were told, there was a\ngreat dark forest on the other side of which were fierce men who did\nevil. But one day one of the Gentle People saw a strange bird, more\nbeautiful than anything ever seen, a bird whose breast shone green and\nblue and gold, with a tail of long feathers white as ivory. Capa it was\nwho saw the bird, and it seemed strange to him that seeing him the bird\nflew away. Never before had he seen a bird that he could not touch and\nhold, and the more the bird avoided him the more eager was he to take it\nto the prince. So he followed it as it went from place to place, always\nthinking that at last the strange bird would allow him to draw near.\nThat it feared him he never knew, for his people knew no fear, neither\ndid the animals nor birds that lived among them. At last the bird led\nhim to the edge of the forest, and when he looked into the sky that\nnight he saw new stars there, at which he wondered. Into the forest he\nwent, always following the bird, and so tall and thick were the trees\nthat the sun did not shine and the stars were blotted out at night.\n\nThen one day he came to a place where he saw men with yellow skins and\nteeth like a dog, who gathered about him. Never before had he seen such\npeople, who tore animals apart and ate of the flesh, who tore skins from\nliving creatures and wore them on their own bodies. To make matters\nworse, these yellow-skinned ones seized Capa and took from him his\nglorious robes of gold and silver thread, tore the feathers from his\nhair and plucked away the ruby that he wore for its beauty. Then,\ngreatly to his surprise, they fell on one another, fighting for the\nthings that they had taken from Capa, so that the very robe they\nstruggled for was torn and trampled under foot. At that Capa turned and\nfled back through the forest, never stopping day or night, until he came\nto his own people.\n\nStraight to the prince he went and told his tale, hearing which, the\nprince was sad at heart.\n\n\u201cYou have,\u201d he said, \u201cbeen where there are greed and selfishness and\navarice, and it is bad for us. For those of the yellow skin will not\nrest until they have found us and brought sorrow into our midst.\u201d\n\nThen he called all his people together and they came, as they always\ndid, singing and dancing and bearing flowers, and after them came the\nbirds and animals, skipping and flying, calling. But a great silence\nfell upon all when they saw their Golden Prince, for his eyes were\ngrave.\n\nSo he told the Gentle People all that Capa had seen, and Capa himself\nstood by the side of his prince and sang a sad song, so that the people\nknew of the evil on the other side of the dark forest, and the hearts of\nthe Gentle People were as heavy as was the heart of the Golden Prince.\nAnd the prince told them that if they chose, he would arm them and lead\nthem so that they could go forth and fight against the yellow-faced men\nwhen they came, \u201cbut,\u201d he went on to say, \u201chaving learned to fight and\nto do hurt and to bring death, then you yourselves will turn on each\nother, will bring death to your own people. You will turn against the\nanimals and they will turn against you. You will walk the land alone,\nand all things will avoid and hide from you. These things of the earth,\nthese bright and shining things which to-day you take or leave as you\nwish, you will play with no more, but will hide in boxes and under\nstones so that others may not see them.\u201d When he said this last he\npicked up a handful of diamonds and rubies, of emeralds and gold dust,\nand poured them from one hand to another, so that it was as a cascade\nthat fell bright and dazzling in the sunlight.\n\nFearing that, the Gentle Folk looked at one another, and there was no\ndoubt in their minds. \u201cFar better,\u201d said they, \u201cis it that we should\nchange in some manner and flee away than that we should do evil to the\nbirds and beasts that are our friends.\u201d\n\nThen the Golden Prince called on his people to follow him, and as the\nyellow man broke through the forest as he had said they would, he led\nall of them away swiftly, and the multitude of animals and birds\nfollowed them. Having arrived at a great valley where was a river, he\ntold his people that he would change their form so that they would\nbecome for a time other creatures, but creatures that would neither bite\nnor scratch nor spit poison, nor do any kind of harm. So he changed them\ninto huanacos, animals of proud and graceful carriage, and their dress\nwas of red and white like the gold and silver they wore. Then when he\nsaw his people thus, friends of the birds and animals they loved, he\nchanged himself into one also, but greater and more beautiful than any.\n\nBut there was a memory of that time, and even to this day when a herd of\nhuanacos is seen, there also is one standing on a high rock as sentinel,\nkeeping watch for the yellow men. And when at last the prince huanaco\ndied, he died in the valley; seeing which, each of his people also laid\ndown their bones in that place, as you may read in many books. So must\nit be until each and every huanaco has passed away. Yet remember this:\nWhere dies a huanaco, there springs up a flower blue as the sky, its\npetals all gold-tipped. And when the day comes in which the last huanaco\ndies, then the yellow men will be gone. On that day each flower will\nbend to its neighbour and, at a word, there will stand a great host, for\nthe spirit of the huanaco is in the flower that is blue and gold-tipped.\nThen, for ever and ever, the Gentle People will again have their land,\nand kindness and gentleness and beauty and joy will be theirs once more.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                      THE TALE THAT COST A DOLLAR\n\n\nWE sailed for many a day, Bob and I, up narrow channels and down wide\nones, twisting and turning this way and that, east, west, north, south,\nbecause of wind and tide and cape and bay, and then we came to a kind of\nS-shaped strait. Through it we went and found that it opened into a wide\nwater, as smooth as glass and so clear that we could see down to the\nsandy bottom where seaweeds clung to rocks and fishes swam in a strange\ngreenish light. Then, by great good luck, we found a place where was\ndeep water and followed the channel landward, and it turned out to be\nthe cutting made by a stream of very cold water that came down from the\nmountain. So there was strange rowing for us, for we worked our boat\ninto the rivulet which was so narrow that very often both oars were on\nthe grassy land. When at last we stopped, it was because the banks came\nso close together that our boat blocked the passage, so we stepped to\nland as easily as one might step onto a wharf.\n\nNext morning, having covered our things from the foxes and made all neat\nand shipshape, we set off on a walk, climbed a high ridge and looked for\na while over a confusion of little islands and narrow straits, then\nwondered at the blue of sea and sky, and after that wandered down a long\nslope, to come soon to a pleasant valley, and the more we saw of it the\nbetter we liked it. It seemed to have everything desirable, soft grass,\nclear and cool water, shelter from the winds, and peaceful quiet. A\nhalf-dozen horses could be seen a little way off, and on a blue hill in\nthe distance there were cows and sheep. Soon we heard the voices of\nchildren and the interlacing echoes. So we rounded the hill and came\nupon houses, four of them altogether and all thatched with yellow\nrushes. The children that we had heard we saw, and they were playing\nwith a pet huanaco, and at one of the doors, seated on a rush-bottomed\nchair was an old woman whose face was wrinkled and brown though her body\nseemed as supple as that of a young person. Seeing us the children left\ntheir play and stood, their dove-eyes full of wonder.\n\nFor the rest of that day we rested, enjoying the place. In the evening,\nwhen men and lads returned from their hunting or their fishing or their\nherding or whatever they did, there was good fellowship in the pleasant\nDecember twilight, and as we talked and sang we became better\nacquainted. Of course, like all travellers in that or any other open\ncountry, we had to tell the tale of our wanderings, how we came to be\nthere and why, and when we had done, one or the other of them told us\nwhat might be said to be the history of their people, one helping the\nother out, correcting the talker when he was at fault, and sometimes\ntaking the tale from him to tell it better.\n\nThey talked Spanish, for all were originally from Chile, and we learned\nthat the old woman\u2019s husband, who was no longer living, had been a\nsoldier who had fought against Peru and was on board a warship called\nthe _Esmeralda_ which was sunk by another, and on that sad day, she\nsaid, more than a hundred were drowned. A merciful Heaven permitted her\nhusband to get ashore after much danger, and wandering, he had found the\nvalley in which we then were (for having found it he had gone to his own\nplace, which I took to be Ancud or somewhere near there), and with three\nneighbour families they had wandered, delighted to find a place where\nwere no din and clashes and war. \u201cAnd,\u201d said the old woman, lifting her\nhands and throwing them a little apart, \u201chere by the grace of Heaven we\nare at peace.\u201d\n\nWhen she had done the children chattered a little, insisting that she\nhad missed the most interesting part of all. She should, they held, tell\nthe strangers the tale of how the valley had been made, of why there was\na river, of how it had come to pass that there were woods through which\nthe river flowed and especially why Laguna Viedma was salt. The\ncaballeros, they were sure, would like to know all that, it being a tale\nmost wonderful and strange. But the old woman shook her head and made\nherself a cigarette, saying that it was a tale told her by a very, very\nold Indian woman who was there when she first saw the place, and the\nIndian had heard it from her mother, and she from her mother, and she\nagain from her mother, so the tale went so far back that whether it had\ntruth in it or not none could tell. At that the young people said that,\ntrue or not, it was a good tale, and they were so politely insistent,\nespecially a little girl who petted a blue-eyed kitten, that we heard\nthe story which, so far as I know, has never yet been written, and were\nit not written now might be forgotten for ever. So here it is, and my\ndaughters, Julia and Helen, like it better than any story in this book,\nthough their brothers are in favour of the tale of the Noseless People.\n\n                 *        *        *        *        *\n\nLong ago, said the old woman, south of the Laguna Viedma lived a bruja,\nor kind of witch, a mean and wicked creature who had a house at the foot\nof the cordilleras built of great slabs of stone, in which there were\nthree rooms. In one of these rooms she had imprisoned a boy and in\nanother a girl, and the boy she allowed to roam about in the garden in\nthe daytime but locked him up whenever the sun set, and the girl she\nlocked up whenever the sun rose, so that the boy had never known night\nand the girl had never seen day, nor had the boy or the girl cast eyes\non one another.\n\nThe boy, growing out of childhood, grew restless, and one day he dug a\npassage in his stone cell under the wall and up on the other side, much\nas a rabbit might have done, so that after being locked up he could\nspend a little time in the twilight, watching the dancing green stars\nthat were fireflies. Still, whenever it grew dark and the edges of the\nthings that he saw were no longer sharp, he scuttled back to his stone\nroom, not knowing what clawed horror might unfold from the dark. For we\nmust remember, said the old woman who told the tale, in all his life he\nhad seen no human being but the witch, and knew no more of the moving\nworld than the horses that we use know of the horses that drag a\nthousand noisy wheels in the city streets. Nor did he know of the ten\nthousand silver lights in the sky at night, nor of the bright glory of\nthe Southern Cross.\n\nOne evening when the boy was in the vega, he having crawled through his\npassage, his heart fell when he saw a strange creature dressed in white,\nwith long black hair and soft eyes. When the strange thing walked\ntowards him he was startled, for he also saw the gray mist from which\nshe came, and in that mist he seemed to see other thickening shapes. So,\nfor a moment, he had a mind to kill the long-haired creature as an evil\nthing, and picked up a sharp stone, but his heart somehow bade him do\notherwise, and he turned and fled, running straight to his hole by the\nside of the bush, then dropped to his knees without a backward look,\nscrambled to his cell and put a big flat stone over the hole, lest the\nlong-haired one should follow and kill him. As for the girl, seeing the\nswift-running lad, she watched in surprise for a little, then followed,\nand coming to the hole in the ground shuddered with fear, believing that\nunder the earth she trod lived thousands of such creatures that,\nperchance, roamed in the daytime and did evil.\n\nThe next day when the witch let the lad out after shutting the girl in\nher stone place, she was surprised to see fear in his eyes, for all that\nnight he had lain awake in his dread of the long-haired one, trembling\nat every sound, lest the unknown should find the passage and creep\nthrough into his cell of safety.\n\nAll that day he worked hard, rolling a great boulder up from the valley\nso that he might close the outer opening of his burrow, but so heavy was\nthe rock and so far the distance, that the sun set before he had rolled\nit to its place. Still, he moved it a long way and got it over his\nburrow and close to the bush. Then he sought the witch so that she might\nlock him up for the night, but to his grief she did not come, and this\nis why:\n\nAfter she had unlocked the girl\u2019s door that evening she remembered the\nlook of fear that had been in the lad\u2019s eyes, so went into his cell to\nsee if anything harmful was there, and her foot struck the flat stone.\nThen she found the opening of the hole. Wondering greatly, she crawled\ninto the passage, pushing hard because it was too small for her. At one\nplace she had to remove much dirt above her head because the roof was so\nlow, and pulling away a stone, down came a shower of little stones and\nof earth, then more and still more, until with a thundering noise the\nbig boulder, which the lad had rolled and left, fell into the hole and\nvery narrowly escaped the witch. So she was stuck fast, deep buried in\nthe ground, her onward way blocked by the boulder against which she\nbutted her head in vain. As for getting back by the way she had come,\nthat was impossible, for, finding night coming on and no guardian witch,\nthe boy fled to his cell. There he saw the black, uncovered hole and the\nflat rock he had placed over it, and listening he heard sounds in the\ntunnel. In his fear of the long-haired creature he pulled the flat rock\nover the hole again and on it piled rock upon rock. That done he gave a\nsigh of relief and straightened himself, but his heart sank when he saw\nin his cell the very thing that he most dreaded. For the girl, being\nbrave in the dark and glad in the silence, sought a companion in her\nloneliness, and found the boy\u2019s cell with its open door. But with the\nlad night brought fear. In the golden sunshine he met danger gladly\nenough, but in the soft moonlight when the true forms of things were\nlost, the world seemed baseless and dreamlike and unsubstantial. So,\nseeing the creature of the night in his cell, he threw up his arms and,\nnot daring to look, fled into the garden and into the ghostly world.\n\nThe whispering stillness of what he saw made him tremble violently, for\nit was a dead world and not the world throbbing with the sweet song of\nfriendly birds and the noise of busy insects. The green and gold of day\nhad strangely gone and the brave hardness that he knew in his world was\nnot in the sky, but instead, a soft black roof hung with strange lights.\nAnd even his feet were robbed of speed, and trees and bushes clawed him.\nAs he fled he looked over his shoulder in affright because of the\nlong-haired pursuer. Not far did he go before a creeping vine caught him\nabout the ankle and his foot struck a root, so that he fell headlong,\nstriking his head against a tree-trunk. The silver-sprinkled sky whirled\nwildly and then all went black.\n\nHe woke to the touch of delicate light hands bathing his face with cool\nwater, but lay with fast-closed eyes, believing, hoping that it was a\ndream. Presently, though still faint and weary and in pain, he opened\nhis eyes to see the face of the maiden as she bent over him, and the\ncloud of soft hair that rippled as silk grass ripples when touched by\nthe breeze. As he looked, finding something gentle and kind in the face,\nhe chanced to see the white moon, great and cold, rushing swiftly\nthrough an army of silver clouds. The sight was new and terrible and he\ngrew dizzy and faint. Something evil seemed to have stolen the warmth\nfrom the sky so that the birds had died and the flowers withered.\n\nWith eyelids closed he wrestled with his fear and heard the golden voice\nof the girl saying again and again:\n\n\u201cAm I not your friend in this lonely place? Am I not your friend? Why\nthen do you run from me?\u201d\n\nIn spite of his fear he was wrapped in happiness at the words, for he\nknew that he had been long lonely, though he had not told himself so\nuntil then. Yet the darkness stretching wide and the stars and the\nshadows made him chill at heart, though like a true man he strove to\nmaster his fear. While he kept his eyes closed it was well enough, but\nto open them on the sunless world was pain. For all that, he nerved\nhimself to speak.\n\n\u201cYes. Let us go,\u201d he said, \u201cfrom this world of shadows,\u201d and she,\nthinking that he meant the place of the witch, took his hand and said,\n\u201cYes. Let us go, my new-found friend.\u201d\n\nHe rose to his feet then and said that he was ready, though he covered\nhis eyes with his hand. Then she told him to wait, saying she knew of a\nhollow place in a tree in which was a flint the old witch had hidden,\nand the armadillo had told her there was some magic in it, though what\nthat magic power was he did not know, except that it had the power to\ncut down trees. It would be well, she added, for them to take it with\nthem.\n\nGreat was his loneliness while she was away, and though he opened his\neyes once, all things were so strange and cold and silent that he closed\nthem again. Once he heard the shrieking voice of the witch-woman under\nthe ground and he wondered why the sound was so muffled. Had she, too,\ncome near to death in the black world? Again he heard the voice of the\nowl, melancholy and solemn.\n\nBut his new-found friend came soon, to his joy, and she gave him the\nflint and took his hand to lead him, for he dared not open his eyes\nbecause of the moon, and she thought him sightless. So all that night\nthey ran thus, hand in hand, over places where there were cruel sharp\nstones, across mist-blown swamps and pantano lands, and where the way\nwas hard he carried the maiden, though he always kept his eyes closed\nand trusted to her guidance.\n\nSo the girl was strong and helpful to him until the dark began to pass,\nthen, with the rose of dawn the lad cried joyfully, \u201cI fear no more now\nand am strong again. Perhaps it is the magic of the flint that makes me\nso.\u201d\n\nBut she said, \u201cAlas! I fear that the stone we carry is not good but\nevil. Let us throw it away, for I grow weak and afraid and ill at ease.\nGreatly I fear the sky so hard and blue, my new-found friend.\u201d\n\nHearing that, he laughed a little and called her his Golden One and bade\nher trust in him, so she was comforted a little, though still afraid.\nThen, as the rose and gold of sunrise sped across the sky and the\nthousand birds awoke and burst into song, his heart was full of\nhappiness, but she, having heard no such noise before, wept with the\nutter pain of it, clapping her hands over her ears. Her eyes, too, were\nfull of burning pain because of the growing flood of light. Still, she\nfought with her fear for a while, though she was sadly longing for the\nworld with its friendly dark. But when the sun came up in his brilliancy\nand the boy greeted it with a great shout of joy, she was as one stunned\nand said:\n\n\u201cAlas! Go, dear lad, and leave me to die all parched and withered. For\ninto the burning light I cannot go. My eyes are scorched and my brain is\non fire. The sweet silence is no more and the heart of night is dead.\u201d\n\nAt that sad speech the lad was full of grief lest he should lose his\nnew-found friend, so he pulled from the trees light-green branches and\nwove them into a canopy and bound about her brow a veil of cool\ngreenness, then lifting her in his arms, he went on happy in the singing\nsunshine, yet sad because she was white-faced and full of strange\ntremblings. At noon, when the heat of day was like brass and the sky was\nfierce with light, they came to a place of tender green coolness where\nwas a vine-hung hollow in the mountainside, and there they rested\nawhile. The lad made for the maid a seat of matted leaves and mosses and\nbrought to her berries and fruits and tender roots, and for drink, cool\nwater in a leaf.\n\nSo at last came the light between day and night when neither was afraid,\nshe brave at heart because of the passing of the burning light of day\nand he fearless because the night of sorrow had not yet come. Hand in\nhand they went towards a great plain all flower-spangled and smiling.\n\nThe witch they had forgotten, or thinking of her had supposed her to be\nfast in her own place. Yet it was not so, for deep in the burrow in\nwhich she had vainly tried to go back and as vainly tried to go forward\nshe had her mind made up to escape by some means. With a mighty heave,\nfor she was of great strength, she burst her way out of the ground and\nthen stood, shaking the dirt out of her eyes and her ears and her hair.\nThat done she sought the boy and the girl, but found no trace of them.\nAt last the armadillo who always tells secrets, told her of what had\nhappened, so she sought the magic flint, the terrible cutting flint\nwhich she could throw to kill. Finding it, too, gone, she was in mad\nrage, whirling, leaping, and screaming. Another moment and she left the\nplace, going in mighty leaps, her bow and arrow in her hand, and soon\nfrom the top of a hill she saw the boy and girl as they stood looking at\nthe smiling valley.\n\nNow that valley was the valley of the huanacos wherein the witch was\npowerless, and that she well knew. Did the two once gain the shelter of\nthe mountains, all her witcheries would be of no avail. Indeed, that\nvery thing the sentinel huanaco was telling the children at the very\nmoment the witch caught sight of them, and the animal bade them haste\nlest the witch touch them before they crossed the plain. So hand in hand\nboy and girl ran, and seeing them so near safety the witch went over the\nground like a horse, bounding over bush and stone, taking five yards at\neach stride.\n\nThen to help the children, from right and from left came huanacos, by\ntens and twenties and hundreds, their proud heads held high, their soft\neyes full of loving kindness, and they ran by the side of the two who\nfled, and some formed in a body behind them so that the arrows shot by\nthe witch could not touch boy or girl, though many a good huanaco laid\ndown his life, thus shielding them.\n\nSeeing the pass to which things had come, the old witch bethought her of\nanother plan, and taking her magic arrow she shot it high in the air so\nthat it passed over the herd of huanacos and fell to earth far in front\nof the boy and girl. As soon as the shaft touched the ground it split\ninto a thousand pieces, each no thicker than spider silk, and each\nfragment took root and became a tree. In a single moment the whole plain\nwas covered with a thick, solemn tangle of forest through which no\nliving creature could hope to pass, and sadly enough, boy and girl\nturned to behold the witch coming toward them fast. But all about her\nfeet were the animal friends of the boy and girl, foxes and small\ncreatures, while about her head flew many tinamou-partridges, so that\nsoon she was forced to slacken her pace. Then to boy and girl came a\npuma, smooth and beautiful, and it said, \u201cEl pedernal! El pedernal!\u201d and\nthey at once remembered the magic flint.\n\nTaking the stone and poising it the lad threw with all his might.\nThrough the air it hummed, and hearing the music of it the old witch\ngave a piercing yell, for well she knew its power. Straight toward the\nforest the stone flew, and before it trees fell to right and left as\nthough the stone had been a great and keen axe handled by a giant, and\nthe path it made was straight and open and clear, so that through the\ngap they saw the valley. Again the huanacos closed about the boy and\ngirl so that nothing might harm them, and down through the straight\nopening they all went. Nor was that all. Having cut a way through the\nforest tangle the flint dropped and buried itself into the ground,\nboring down and down, until it fell into the lake of clear water that\nlies hidden under the ground. Out of the hole came bubbling a stream of\nwater, silver and cool, and it flowed down the gap in the forest and\npassed out on the farther side, then split to run on both sides of the\nwitch, to whom water was death. Deeper and deeper became the water until\nit covered the very colina on which she stood, and when at last the\nwater touched her feet, she melted as sugar does.\n\n\u201cThe stream,\u201d said the old woman who told us the tale, \u201cwent on and on\nand became Laguna Viedma, and the forest is the forest you see. As for\nthe boy and the girl, they became man and wife and lived in the place\nwhere we now sit for many, many years, and about them stayed many\nhuanacos and deer and tinamou, and the sorry past was soon forgotten\nlike a last year\u2019s nest.\u201d\n\n                              *    *    *\n\nHaving said all that, the old woman, whose face was wrinkled and brown,\ndrew a white woollen poncho over her shoulders and eyed me. After a\nwhile she said that she had told that tale to four men at different\ntimes and each of them had liked it so well that he had given her a\ndollar of silver.\n\n\u201cAnd,\u201d said she with spirit, \u201cI can show you the dollars to prove that\nwhat I say is true.\u201d So getting up she went into the house and soon came\nout again with four silver coins, carrying them in her open palm. For a\nlittle while she was silent and so was I, and the men sitting around\npretended to be inattentive and lit cigarettes and blew smoke rings,\njangling their big spurs now and then. Presently the old woman said:\n\n\u201cSome day a brave caballero will hear the tale and he will make the four\ndollars to be five.\u201d\n\nThinking it well to be counted brave, and hoping that I was a gentleman,\nI brought her expectations to pass, having a dollar with me, as luck had\nit. And certainly I think that the tale was worth a dollar, and if it\nwas not, then it was worth many dollars to rest a while in that quiet\nplace and to meet such worthy and simple folk.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                             THE MAGIC KNOT\n\n\nTHERE was once a lad whose name was Borac who might have been the son of\na king, and again might not. No one ever really knew, though a wise old\nwoman who lived near by said that he was, and so many things that she\nsaid were found to be true that people believed what she said of Borac.\nBorac was found by the side of a lake by a man who was gathering fruit.\nThis man saw what he took to be a shining white stone, and, going to it,\nfound a basket neatly made of silk grass lined with soft white feathers,\nand in it, warm and cosy like a bird in a nest, was the child Borac. So\nthe man took the basket and the baby home with him, and his children\nwere delighted with their new playmate. That made four children for the\nman and his wife to take care of, for he had three of his own, but good\nluck came to him from the day he found Borac and things went very well.\nAs for the newcomer, he was treated exactly as were the rest of the\nchildren in that house, and like them grew strong of limb and ruddy of\nface.\n\nSo there were two boys and two girls, playmates, and each day was a\ngolden one for them. Somehow, Borac seemed to see things and to know\nthings that the others often missed. Not that his sight was any better\nthan the sight of his foster-brother and -sisters, for in the place\nwhere they lived at the foot of the mountains, where the air was clean\nand sharp, everyone had good eyesight. Things at a distance were as\nclear-cut as things are when you look through a field-glass. But as\nBorac grew, he saw beauty in common things and pointed out to the others\nthe colours in the sunset sky, the pure blue of the lake water, the\nsun-sparkle on the stream, and the fresh green of the hill grass. Then,\ntoo, there were the songs of the birds. That music they had grown up\nwith, had heard so often that they had forgotten the beauty of it all,\nuntil one day Borac began to call like a bird and from every tree and\nbush came a chorus so rich and so wonderful that the joy in their hearts\nwas more like a sweet pain. You know how that is.\n\nNow there was a place in the mountains where the cliff ran straight up,\nand so smooth it was that no one had ever climbed it, though the\nchildren there were sure-footed as goats and could climb the highest\nplaces without growing faint or dizzy when high up.\n\nHalf-way up this cliff was a broad ledge on which a condor had built its\nnest, and Borac and his friends often played at the foot of the cliff\nand loved to watch the condor drop off of his rock shelf with spread\nwings and float far above, winding in mighty circles for hours, floating\nhigher and higher into the sky without wing motion and just leaning\nover, it seemed, to go with the wind or against the wind, up and up,\nuntil he looked no larger than a humming-bird against the blue. So high\nhe went sometimes that if one but blinked for a moment, the little black\nspot seemed to disappear. If any one of them had been granted a wish,\nthat wish would have been that he or she might have the power to soar\nand wheel like the great bird, sweeping up in a great curve to hang in\nthe air, floating downward in a long, long line, sliding, as it were, to\nsweep up again at will.\n\nOne day when Borac and his three friends were there, one of the girls\ncalled out in great trouble, pointing up the face of the cliff to a\nplace where was a cranny, and looking, the others saw a large mottled\nowl with two staring eyes perched on a point of rock, and just below\nthey could make out a pigeon on its nest. It seemed to them that the owl\nwas screaming, \u201cAh! I see you, little dove. Sharp as needles are my\nclaws. Sharp, too, is my beak to tear you, and little owls are hungry\nfor the flesh of doves.\u201d\n\nThat seemed very terrible to those who saw, and the four children began\nto shout and to throw stones, trying to chase the owl away, but it was\nof no use. The nest of the rock-pigeon was too far away and the face of\nthe rock too smooth and sheer for any of them to climb, so there seemed\nnothing for it but to watch until the little bird was captured. The\npigeon, they saw, was in great fear, but in spite of the danger stayed\non the nest. As for the owl, he turned his face downwards toward them,\nhearing the noise, and they saw his cruel eyes and his head-feathers\nthat were like horns, but he gave no sign of going away. Indeed, he\nhooted at them, as if to say, \u201cWho cares for you, little\nearth-creatures?\u201d\n\nTo the watchers it was like a jailor hanging over a prisoner who is\ninnocent, or like a man with a sword about to deal a death-blow to a\nchild. It was very sad to them to see the dove all helpless and, above\nher, the owl ready to dash down at any moment. As for Borac, he was so\nfull of grief that he had started to climb the cliff, though it was\nclear to him as well as to his friends that he could not mount far. When\nhe had climbed some little way up, a wonderful thing came to pass. From\nthe sky where the condor wheeled, came dropping a long feather, a\nwing-feather which the great bird had plucked, and it fell spinning and\nat last rested on a little rock hump close to Borac\u2019s right hand. His\nleft hand, meanwhile, was clutching fast to the rock above his head.\n\nNow why Borac should pick up such a thing as a feather when he needed\nhis hands free he did not know, and certainly none of his friends could\nguess. But he did so, and not only that but looked at it curiously, just\nas you would do, to note the smooth lines of it and the beauty of the\nthing. And as he did this he twisted it just a little, gave it a turn\nwith his fingers. At that he floated gently from the face of the rock,\nout from the cliff and into the air, until he was poised over the heads\nof his companions, hanging as lightly as a piece of thistle-down. Again\nhe twisted it, just a little, and went upward. Then he tried other\nthings, pointing it a little toward the face of the cliff, and,\nwonderful enough, floated that way. So he as well as the children knew\nthat there was magic in the feather. Up then he darted with its aid,\nswiftly as the swiftest bird, rushing through the air, then swooped away\nfrom the cliff most beautifully, went upward again, made a great circle\nas he dived again, then shot upward, and so to the place where the owl\nsat.\n\nSeeing him, the sharp-clawed thing raised its wings and softly flew away\nand was seen no more.\n\nSomehow, the three at the foot of the cliff were not at all afraid. They\nknew everything would come right. Indeed, they leaped with joy and\ndelight when they saw Borac standing on the rock ledge, and they clapped\ntheir hands when they heard the little slate-coloured creature coo with\ngratitude when the owl vanished. But what Borac did next they could not\ntell, though they saw him stoop and pick up something.\n\nThis is what happened: Borac, up there, saw behind the dove\u2019s nest a\ncoil of silky stuff no thicker than a fine thread, and in the middle of\nit was a queer knot. At first he thought it was a part of the nest, so\nwould not touch it, but soon the bird rose from its nest, picked up the\nend of the thread, and walked with it to Borac. He took it then, wound\nin the rest of the coil, and it lay in his hand taking up no more room\nthan a wild cherry would, so very fine it was in texture. But he knew at\nonce that he had the magic knot of which the old woman had so often\nspoken, the magic knot that could bind evil things, though they were so\nstrong that they could lift rocks. How the magic knot got there neither\nhe nor any one else could know, and it did not matter very much.\nCertainly but for it, the owl would have captured the dove. The condor\nmay have known about it, for condors are very wise, travel far, and see\nmuch that escapes the eyes of men. Anyway, Borac did not stay long, but\nfeather in hand leaped into the air, though he was so high that his\nfriends looked to him no larger than foxes, and swooping down landed\nlightly on the earth.\n\nThen there were experiments. Each of the children wanted to try the\nfeather in turn and great fun they had that evening, flying higher and\nhigher as they grew braver, until at last each of them had stood on the\nfaraway shelf where was the condor\u2019s nest. It was easy to do and they\nfound that all would go well so long as there was neither doubt nor\nfear. The magic feather would carry them quite safely so long as they\nbelieved in it. If they did not believe in it, then not a foot could\nthey get from the earth. As for the magic thread with its wonderful\nknot, what good that might be they did not know, but it was certainly\nmagic, and magic things, as they knew, always come in useful. So they\nguarded it carefully, packing it away in a nutshell where it should be\nhandy when needed. And the magic knot came in useful much sooner than\nthey expected, and if you are not going to be scared you may hear the\ntale, but if the hearing of it will make you nervous in the dark, or\ncause you to be afraid so that at night, being outside the house and\nnearing it, you make a hurried run to get to the door, then you had\nbetter read no farther. For you may as well understand that the magic\nknot did actually do the work and the thing that it bound is bound for\never and ever, so that no one of you should be afraid of the dark, nor\nbe shivery as your hand is set on the door latch lest something should\nleap out of the dark and seize you.\n\nHere then is the place to stop if you are timid, but if you are not you\nmay read what comes next and after these three stars:\n\n                              *    *    *\n\nOne night in the village next to that in which Borac and his three\nfriends lived, something happened. In a little house that sat near a\nclearing some people were sitting talking, and being thirsty one of them\nasked the boy of the house to take the gourd and go to the stream for\nwater. He did so, going bravely into the dark, for the stream was but a\nhundred steps away from the house door. The people in the house waited\nand waited, wondering why the boy was so long, and at last someone went\nto look for him. Down to the little river they went and back again, but\nthere was no sign of the boy.\n\nNow that was bad enough, but what was worse was that on the next night a\nboy went to visit a friend who lived five houses away, and that boy\nnever reached his friend\u2019s house. His father and mother went to look for\nhim and traced his footsteps in the sandy road, but came to a place\nwhere the steps stopped and beyond was smooth sand. Then on the third\nnight something happened. A girl and her sister were visiting and the\nyounger girl started to go home alone. No sooner had she left than her\nsister, remembering how the boys had vanished, ran after her to bear her\ncompany. The night was moonless and a thin cold mist hid the stars, but\nthe sister could see the little one\u2019s white dress a little way ahead.\nShe could not see very plainly because it was so dark, but there was no\nmistake about it. The fluttering white thing was in front, cloudy\nlooking certainly, but there. Then of a sudden something happened. The\nwhite cloud that was a dress had vanished. So the older sister ran to\nthe place and heard a voice calling and the sound seemed to come from\nabove her head. She looked up and saw a flutter of white for an instant,\nthen nothing more. Her sister had vanished exactly as a bubble vanishes.\n\nBecause of all that there was terror in the village. In the day the\npeople were nervous enough, but at night there was great fear. No one\ndared stir out after sunset. Even within doors people sat as if on\nthorns. Then one night when there was no glimmer of light in the sky, a\nfamily sitting in a house heard a great tearing sound as if some giant\nhand was pulling at the thatched roof. The light in the house went out\nand those who sat in the room crouched trembling, crowding close to one\nanother, their hearts throbbing. When at last it was quiet again they\nsaw that a ragged hole was in the roof, and on the earth floor there was\na mark like the claw of a great bird.\n\nThat was all, but there was trouble in the hearts of the people, and\nsoon the news of it all came to Borac. He listened to the tale\nattentively and so did the wise old woman who was there. She nodded\nthoughtfully and said:\n\n\u201cBut have no fear. Things will not go ill while the moon shines.\u201d\n\nShe said much more, particularly asking Borac if he had the magic knot,\nand then she told him what to do. And with the growing moon the trouble\nceased.\n\nMeanwhile, Borac was busy. The old woman had talked with him as has been\nsaid, and day after day with the help of his magic feather he made great\nflights, circling high in the sky, crossing valleys, and passing over\nmountain and lake, and seeing strange lands far to the west and the\ngreat ocean that reached far until it touched the sky. Then the condors\nwere good to him and with them he flew hither and thither, as fast and\nas high as they, never tiring, never lagging, and they took him in a new\ndirection and to a place where out of a great bare valley rose a\nmonstrous black bird, a bird so strong that it could bear away a llama\nin each claw and another in its beak. So big it was that beside it a\ncondor seemed tiny. It was an ugly bird and the eye of it was\nheavy-lidded and baleful, its claws sharp. The wings flapped so heavily\nthat the wind from them caused the trees near by to bend their tops as\nif they leaned to whisper, one to another. Borac at once knew it for the\ngreat bird of evil that swooped down on dark nights and carried men\naway, and he also knew that in the world there was but one and that it\nlaid but one egg.\n\nFor many days the lad watched, following the bird wherever it went, and\nat last discovered its foul nest high up in the mountains where man\nnever set foot. By the side of its nest, in which was an egg so great\nthat a goat might have hidden in the shell of it, was a hole in the\nrock. In this hole, the sides of which were very steep, were all those\nwhom the great bird had carried away. Day by day, as Borac saw, the bird\ndropped fruit down into the hole, so that the unhappy creatures might\nlive until the egg was hatched, when they would, he knew, be taken out\nand given to the young one to eat. When the great bird had flown away,\nBorac ventured close to the hole and called out to the people there to\nbe of good cheer, for he would rescue them soon and also kill the bird.\n\nBack to his own place he flew then with his magic feather and told\neveryone what he had seen, and, as the wise old woman advised, Borac and\nhis friends chose a stout tree and cut the top and the branches from it.\nThey then formed the trunk into the shape of a youth, leaving the roots\nfast in the earth. This figure they painted and covered with a garment\nand in the hand of it they put a large gourd, so that from afar the\nthing looked like one going for water. Close to it they built a house of\npoles and covered it with grass for a roof, in the fashion of the\ncountry, and all that they had ready before the moon was again dark.\nThen everything being prepared, Borac went into the house and waited.\n\nThree nights he was there, then taking his feather flew here and there.\nAt last he saw a great black cloud swiftly moving, which he knew to be\nthe evil bird, so he made for his house and soon there came a great\ntearing sound in the air. As the bird came it set up a terrific\nscreeching and the noise that it made with the beating of its wings was\nlike thunder-claps. Down it swooped on the man of wood, claws\noutstretched and beak open, and in another moment it had seized the\nfigure and was trying to lift it. The more the figure resisted, the\ntighter the evil bird held, its claws and beak fast sunk in the wood. So\nfearful were its struggles that the earth about the root of the tree\nheaved, and it seemed as if the roots would be torn out bodily. Then\nfinding that it could not move the thing, the bird made to fly away, but\nits talons and beak were held by the wood as if in a vise. All its\nflappings and tearings then were of no avail, and try as it would, it\ncould not release itself. Faster and harder it beat its wings and the\nwind from them bowed the bushes and shook the house in which Borac was\nhidden.\n\nThen Borac came forth with magic feather and magic knot, and was soon in\nthe air above the struggling bird. Hovering there he unloosed the thread\nwith the magic knot and lowered it. Down it dropped and was soon\nentangled in the beating wings like a web about a fly, and, slight\nthough the thread was, against the power of the magic knot nothing could\nprevail. So in a short time the great black bird was bound for ever.\n\nIn the morning Borac flew to the nest in the far valley and went down\ninto the pit in which were the unlucky ones that the bird had caught.\nOne by one he carried them from that place and to their homes. As for\nthe egg, putting his shoulder against it he tumbled it from the ledge\nwhere the nest was, and it fell and was smashed to pieces. So there was\nan end of the evil bird, which soon died; and it was the last of its\nkind; and to-day, of all the birds of the air, there are none to do harm\nto man.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                            THE BAD WISHERS\n\n\nFOR days and days and for weeks and weeks Canassa and I rode to the\nsouth, and the only break in our days was when we changed our tired\nhorses for fresh ones. That we did sometimes four times in the day. We\nhad plenty of choice, for we were driving some three hundred mares and\ncolts. Canassa was a gaucho, a plainsman, as we would say, and a most\nexcellent horseman, so he made nothing at all of catching an unbroken\ncolt with his lasso and saddling and riding it, doing his share of the\ndriving with the horse new to saddle.\n\nWith so much of it I grew tired, and one night as we sat about our\nlittle campfire heating water for our mat\u00e9, the tea we made from herbs,\nI said that I wished the job was at an end.\n\nCanassa strummed his guitar awhile, then laid it aside and said:\n\n\u201cWishes are no good and he who wishes, risks. For why? Whenever you\nwish, you leave out something that should not be left out, and so things\ngo wrong.\u201d\n\nI told him that a small wish might be all right, but this he would not\nallow. Things had to go just so, he said, and no one in the world was\nwise enough to wish things as they should be wished. Then, in the way of\nthe men of the pampas, he told me a tale to prove the truth of what he\nsaid, and this was the tale:\n\n                 *        *        *        *        *\n\nOnce there was a woman in Paraguay who had no children and she wished\nday and night for a boy and a girl. She did more than wish, going to a\nplace in the woods where were wild sweet limes and oranges and lemons,\nand where the pools were covered with great leaves of waterliles, and in\nthe quiet of that place she made a song about the children she wished\nfor. In that song she sang of the boy as handsome and swift of foot and\nstrong of arm, and she sang of the girl as a light creature with keen\neyes and silken hair. Day after day she did this and at last her wish\ncame true, for she had a boy and a girl and the boy was straight-limbed\nand well made and the girl as lovely as a flower of the air.\n\nSo far, so good. But that was not the end. The woman had wished that the\nboy might be strong and brave and swift and all these he was. But she\nhad not thought of other things, and, sad to say, he lacked sight. For\nhim there was neither day nor night, neither sun nor moon, neither green\nof the pampas nor blue of the sky. As for the girl, it is true that she\nhad sight so keen that she could see the eye of a humming-bird at a\nhundred paces, but her legs were withered and useless and she could not\nwalk, for the mother in wishing had said nothing of her health and\nstrength. To crawl about, helping herself with her hands, was as much as\nshe could do.\n\nSeeing what had come to pass the mother was very sad, for her dream had\nbecome a very pesadilla, a nightmare. So she grieved and each day grew\npaler, and at last one evening caught her children in her arms and\nkissed them and they saw her no more, the neighbours next morning\ntelling them that she had died.\n\nNow one day when the children were well grown, there came to the house\nin which they lived a man in a torn poncho who said that he had walked\nhundreds of miles, from the land of the Noseless People where it is\nalways cold. He was tired and hungry and torn with thorn-bushes, and his\nfeet were cut with stones. So the boy and girl took him into the house\nand gave him water to wash himself with and chipa bread made of mandioca\nflour and sweet raspadura in banana leaves. When he was well rested and\nrefreshed, in return for their great kindness he told them of a strange\nold witch-woman who lived far away, one who knew many secrets by means\nof which she could do wonderful things.\n\n\u201cIn a turn of the hand,\u201d said he, \u201cshe could make the girl strong of\nlimb and with another turn could restore sight to the lad.\u201d\n\nThen he went on to tell of other witches that he knew, saying that there\nwere many who were not all bad, but like men, were a mixture. True, they\nsometimes kept children, but that was not to be laid to their meanness\nbut rather to their love of beauty. \u201cFor,\u201d he said, \u201cit is no more wrong\nto keep a child to look at than it is to pluck a flower or to cage a\nbird. Or, to put it another way, it is as wrong to cage a bird as it is\nto steal a child.\u201d\n\nThe meal being done the three of them sang a little, and the sun being\nset the old man bade them good-night and stretched out under a tree to\nsleep, and the next morning before the children awoke he had gone.\n\nAll that day brother and sister talked much of what the old man had told\nthem, and the girl\u2019s face flushed red and her eyes were bright as she\nlooked at her brother and thought of how sweet it would be if he could\nsee the mists of the morning and the cool cleanness of the night.\nMeanwhile he in his dark world wondered how he could find his way to the\nwitch and persuade her to work her magic, so that his sister might be\nable to go up and down, and to skip and dance on limbs that were alive.\nSo at last they fell to talking, and the end of it all was that they\nstarted on a journey to the witch, the brother carrying the sister on\nhis shoulder while she guided him safely through thorn-thicket, past\nswamps where alligators lay hidden, and through valleys where bushy\npalmetto grew shoulder high. Each night they found some cool place where\nwas a spring of crystal, or a pool of dark sweet water, and at last they\ncame to the little hills where the witch lived.\n\nThey found that all was as the old man had said, for the witch was a\nlonely creature who saw few, because few passed that way. She was glad\nenough to see her visitors and led them to a fragrant leafy place, and\nseeing that the girl was drooping like a wind-wearied bird, did what\nthings she could. To the boy she told tales of the birds and the golden\nlight of the sun and the green of spreading branches, thinking that with\nher tales they would be comforted and content to stay with her in her\nsoft green valley. But the more she did for their comfort and the more\nshe told them of the wonders of the world, the greater was their desire\nto be whole, the girl with her limbs unbound, the boy with his eyes\nunsealed.\n\nBefore long the lad told the witch of the old man\u2019s visit and of their\nhopes that had led them to take the great journey, and then the old\nwoman\u2019s heart fell as she saw her dream of companionship vanish. She\nknew that as soon as they were whole again they would leave her as the\nbirds that she fed and tended in nesting time left her when winter came.\nThen she told them no more pleasant tales, but tales of things dead and\ncold, of gray skies and desert places, of tangled forests where evil\nthings lived.\n\n\u201cIt is better not to see at all,\u201d she said, \u201cthan to see foul things and\nheart-searing things.\u201d\n\nBut the boy spoke up and said:\n\n\u201cThere being such things, the more I would have my eyesight, so that I\nmight clear those tangled forests of the evil beasts of which you\nspeak.\u201d\n\nHearing that, the witch sighed, though her heart was glad at the boy\u2019s\nwords. So she turned to the girl, telling her of the harm that sometimes\ncame to those who walked, of the creatures that do violence and scratch\nand maul; of stocks and stones that hurt and cut tender feet; of\nvenomous things that hide under rocks. But the girl heard patiently,\nthen clasped her hands and said:\n\n\u201cAnd that is all the more reason that I ask what I ask, for with feet\nlight and active I can skip away from the hurtful things, if indeed my\nbrother does not kill them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the witch, \u201cperhaps when you know the beauty of the place\nin which I live, you will be content to stay with me. I must do what you\nask because you are what you are by reason of a wish that went wrong.\nNow to get the magic leaves with which to cure you I must take a journey\nof a day and a night, and it is part of the magic that those who would\nbe cured must do a task. So to-morrow while I am away you must work, and\nif I find the task finished you shall be cured. But if you should not\nfinish the task, then all will remain as it is; but I will be eyes for\nthe boy, telling him of the fine things of the world, and for the girl I\nwill be as limbs, running for her, working for her. But I shall do and\nnot wish. Truth is that I would gladly see both of you whole again, but\nthen you would go away, and I sorely lack companionship.\u201d\n\nAfter a little the witch said to the girl:\n\n\u201cTell me, little one, if this place were yours what would you do to make\nit better to live in?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would,\u201d answered the girl, \u201chave all the thorn-bushes taken away that\nare now in the little forest behind the house, so that Brother could\nwalk about without being scratched and torn.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is fair enough,\u201d said the witch. \u201cAnd you, boy, what would your\nwish be?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would have all the little stones that are in the valley taken away,\nso that Sister could play on the soft grass without being hurt.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the witch, \u201cit is in the magic that you set your own tasks.\nSo the boy must have every stone cleared away before I return and the\ngirl must see to it that there are no more thorn-bushes. Hard are the\nthings that you have wished.\u201d\n\nAfter the witch had gone there was no joy in the hearts of the children,\nfor it seemed impossible that a blind boy should gather the stones and\nno more possible for a lame girl to clear the forest. There was a little\ntime in which they tried, but they had to give up. So they stood\nwondering, and for a moment thought of starting for their own home.\n\nSuddenly, strange to tell, who should come over the hill but the old man\nin the torn poncho, and they were both very glad to see him. After he\nhad rested awhile they told him their troubles and spoke of their grief\nbecause, in spite of all their efforts, it seemed as though all must\ncome to naught.\n\n\u201cI wish\u2014\u2014\u201d began the boy, but the old man stopped him with lifted\nfinger.\n\n\u201cWishing never does,\u201d he said. \u201cBut help does much and many can help\none.\u201d He put his fingers to his mouth and gave a peculiar whistle, and\nat once the sky was darkened with birds and each bird dropped to the\nground, picked up a stone and flew away with it, so that the valley was\ncleared in a moment. He gave another whistle and from everywhere came\nrabbits which ran into the woods, skipping and leaping, and at once set\nto work to gnaw the stems of the bushes. And as soon as the bushes fell,\nfoxes came and dragged them away, so that in an hour the forest was\nclear, and when the witch came back, behold, the set task was done!\n\nSo the witch took the leaves that she had brought and made a brew of\nthem, giving the liquid to brother and sister to drink. \u201cBut,\u201d said she,\n\u201csee to it that you speak no word, for if you do before sunset, then\nback you go to your old state.\u201d\n\nBoth promised that heartily and drank. But as soon as the boy saw the\ngreen of the grass, and the blue and crimson and purple flowers, and the\nhumming-birds like living diamonds in the shade, he called out in his\ngreat joy:\n\n\u201cOh, Sister, see how beautiful!\u201d and at once he was in utter darkness\nagain. At the same moment, feeling her limbs strong, the girl was filled\nwith such delight that she tossed her arms into the air and danced. Then\nfrom her came a keen cry of pain as she heard her brother\u2019s cry and knew\nthat he was blind again. There was a moment when she wanted to lose all\nthat she had gained so that she could tell her brother that she shared\nhis grief, but she remembered that being strong she could help him in\nhis pain, so she went to him and took him by the hand and kissed his\ncheek.\n\nAt sunset the boy, who had been sitting quiet, spoke, turning his\nsightless face to the witch.\n\n\u201cYou have tried to be good to us,\u201d he said, \u201cand you have been as kind\nas it lay in your power to be. Since Sister is well, I am content. And I\nhave seen the beauty of the world, though it was in a flash. So, mother\nwitch, since you have not been able to give us all we ask, we will give\nyou all that we have. Come, then, to the place where we live and see the\nthings that we love, the birds and the flowers and the trees, and we\nwill try in kindness to repay you for what you have done.\u201d\n\nHearing that, the witch suddenly burst into singing and hand-clapping\nand told them that the spell was broken because she had been befriended.\n\n\u201cNo witch am I,\u201d she said, \u201cbut your own mother who did not die, but was\nchanged to this form for vain wishes.\u201d\n\nThen the boy regained his sight and the mother became as she had been,\ntall and straight and beautiful and kind, and the three of them went to\ntheir old home and lived there for many years, very happy and contented.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                          THE HUNGRY OLD WITCH\n\n\nSHE was a witch, she was very old, and she was always hungry, and she\nlived long ago near a forest where now is Uruguay, and just in the\ncorner where Brazil and Argentina touch. They were the days when mighty\nbeasts moved in the marshes and when strange creatures with wings like\nbats flew in the air. There were also great worms then, so strong that\nthey bored through mountains and rocks as an ordinary worm makes its way\nthrough clay. The size and the strength of the old witch may be guessed\nwhen you know that she once caught one of the giant worms and killed it\nfor the sake of the stone in its head. And there is this about the\nstone\u2014it is green in colour and shaped like an arrow-head a little\nblunted, and precious for those who know the secret, because he who has\none may fly through the air between sunrise and sunset, but never in the\nnight.\n\nThe old witch had another secret thing. It was a powder, and the\nknowledge of how to make it was hers alone and is now lost. All that is\nknown of it is that it was made from the dried bodies of tree-frogs\nmixed with goat\u2019s milk. With it she could, by sprinkling a little of it\nwhere wanted, make things grow wonderfully. She could also turn plants\nto animals with it, or change vines into serpents, thorn-bushes into\nfoxes, little leaves into ants. Living creatures she also changed,\nturning cats into jaguars, lizards into alligators, and bats into\nhorrible flying things.\n\nThis old witch had lived for hundreds of years, so long indeed that the\nmemory of men did not know a time when she was not, and fathers and\ngrandfathers and great grandfathers all had the same tale to tell of how\nshe had always devoured cattle and pigs and goats, making no account at\nall of carrying off in one night all the animals of a village. To be\nsure, some had tried to fight her by shooting arrows, but it was of no\nuse, for by her magic the shafts were bent into a shape like a letter V\nas soon as they touched her. So in time it came about that men would put\noutside the village in a corral one half of what they had raised in a\nyear, letting the old witch take it, hoping that thus she would leave\nthem in peace.\n\nAt last there grew up a lad, a sober fellow of courage, who said little\nand thought much, and he refused to take animals to the corral when the\ntime came for the old witch to visit that place.\n\nWhen the people asked him his reason for refusing, he said that he had\nhad a dream in which he saw himself as a bird in a cage, but when he had\nbeen there a little while a sweet climbing vine had grown up about the\ncage and on this vine was a white flower which twisted its way in\nbetween the bars. Then, as he looked at it, the flower changed to a\nsmiling maiden who held a golden key in her hand. This key she had given\nto him and with it he had opened the door of the cage. So, he went on to\nsay, both he and the maiden had gone away. What the end of the dream was\nhe did not know, for at that point he had wakened with the sound of\nsinging and music in his ears, from which he judged that all turned out\nwell, though he had not seen the end of it.\n\nBecause of this dream and what it might betoken he said that he would\nnot put anything in the corral for the old witch, but instead would\nventure forth and seek her out, to the end that the land might be free\nfrom her witcheries and evil work. Nor could any persuade him to the\ncontrary.\n\n\u201cIt is not right,\u201d he said, \u201cthat we should give away for nothing that\nwhich we have grown and tended and learned to love, nor is it right that\nwe should feed and fatten the evil thing that destroys us.\u201d\n\nSo the wise men of that place named the lad by a word which means Stout\nHeart, and because he was loved by all, many trembled and turned pale\nwhen the morning came on which he took his lance and alone went off into\nthe forest, ready for whatever might befall.\n\nFor three days Stout Heart walked, and at last came to a place all\ngrassy and flowery, where he sat down by the side of a lake under a\ntree. He was tired, for he had walked far that day and found that\nslumber began to overtake him. That was well enough, for he was used to\nsleep under the bare heavens, but with his slumber came confused dreams\nof harmful things which he seemed to see coming out of the ground, so he\nclimbed into the tree, where he found a resting-place among the branches\nand was soon asleep.\n\nWhile he slept there came to the side of the lake the old witch, who\ncast her basket net into the water and began to fish, and as she fished\nshe sang in a croaking and harsh voice this:\n\n                        \u201cThings in the air,\n                        Things in the water\u2014\n                        Nothing is fair,\n                        So come to the slaughter.\u201d\n\nThey were not the words, but that is what the words meant. But\nunpleasant as was the song, yet it worked a kind of charm, and things\ncame to her, so that her basket net was filled again and again. The fish\nshe cast into a kind of wicker cage, of which she had several.\n\nSoon the croaking song chased sleep from the eyes of Stout Heart, and\nlooking down he saw the wrinkled crone and the great pile of fish that\nshe had cast on the bank, and his heart was grieved for two things\u2014one\nthat there was such waste of good life, the other that he had left his\nspear hidden in the grass. He grieved too, a little, because he knew\nthat on account of his long walk he was weak from hunger and thirst. So\nthere seemed little that could be done and he sat very still, trusting\nthat until he was better prepared for action the old witch would not see\nhim.\n\nBut all his stillness was of no avail. Looking at the shadow of the tree\nas it lay upon the surface of the water, she saw the lad\u2019s shadow. Then\nshe looked up and saw him. Had she had her magic green stone with her,\nthings would have been far different and this tale all the shorter. But\nnot having it and being quite unable to climb trees, she said:\n\n\u201cYou are faint and hungry. Come down, come down, good lad, for I have\nmuch here that is good to eat.\u201d\n\nHearing that, Stout Heart laughed, knowing that she was not to be\ntrusted, and he told her that he was very well indeed where he was. So\nshe tried another trick, spreading on the grass fruits and berries, and\nsaying in a wheedling voice:\n\n\u201cCome, son, eat with me. I do not like to eat alone. Here are fresh\nfruits and here is honey. Come down that I may talk with you and treat\nyou as a son, for I am very lonesome.\u201d\n\nBut Stout Heart still laughed at her, although, to be sure, he was a lad\nof great appetite and his hungriness increased in him.\n\n\u201cHave you any other trap to set for me?\u201d he asked.\n\nHearing that, the witch fell into a black and terrible rage, dancing\nabout and gnashing her teeth, frothing at the mouth and hooking her long\nnails at him like a cat, and the sight of her was very horrible, but the\nlad kept his heart up and was well content with his place in the tree,\nthe more as he saw her great strength. For in her rage she plucked a\ngreat rock the size of a man\u2019s body from the earth where it was sunk\ndeep, and cast it at the tree with such force that the tree shook from\nroot to tip.\n\nFor a moment the old witch stood with knit brows, then she went on her\nhands and knees and fell to gathering up blades of grass until she had a\nlittle heap. All the time she was cursing and groaning, grumbling and\nsnarling like a cat. When she had gathered enough grass she stood up and\nbegan to sprinkle a grayish powder over the grass heap, and as she did\nthis she talked mumblingly, saying:\n\n                 \u201cCreep and crawl\u2014creep and crawl!\n                 Up the tree-trunk, on the branch.\n                 Creep and crawl\u2014creep and crawl!\n                 Over leaf and over twig.\n                 Seek and find the living thing.\n                 Pinch him, bite him, torture him.\n                 Creep and crawl\u2014creep and crawl!\n                 Make him drop like rotting fruit.\u201d\n\nSo she went on, moving about in a little circle and sprinkling the\npowder over the grass. Presently the pile of grass began to move as if\nit hid some living thing, and soon the grass blades became smaller,\nrounded themselves, and turned brown. Then from them shot out fine\nhair-like points which became legs, and so each separate leaf turned to\nan ant. To the tree they scurried and up the trunk they swarmed, a\nlittle army marching over every leaf and twig until the green became\nbrown, and louder and louder the old witch screamed, waving her arms the\nwhile:\n\n                 \u201cCreep and crawl\u2014creep and crawl!\n                 Up the tree-trunk, on the branch.\n                 Creep and crawl\u2014creep and crawl!\u201d\n\nThe nearer to Stout Heart that they came, the louder she shrieked,\nleaping about and waving her long-taloned hands as she ordered:\n\n                 \u201cSeek and find the living thing.\u201d\n\nThen Stout Heart knew that trouble was brewing indeed, for against so\nmany enemies there was no fighting. For a time he avoided them, but for\na time only, and that by going higher and higher in the tree, crawling\nalong the branch that hung over the lake, but nearer and nearer the ants\ncame, and louder she bade them to\n\n                \u201cPinch him, bite him, torture him.\u201d\n\nAt last there was nothing for it but to drop out of the tree, for he had\nbeen hanging to the end of a branch and the ants were already swarming\nover his hands and some running down his arms. So he let go his hold and\nwent into the lake with a splash, down out of the sunshine and into the\ncool green-blue of the waters. He swam a little, trying to get out of\nthe way before coming up, but had to put his head out soon to get a\nbreath. Then suddenly he seemed to be in the middle of something that\nwas moving about strangely, and it was with a sudden leaping of the\nheart that he found himself in the old witch\u2019s basket net being drawn\nashore. To be sure, he struggled and tried to escape, but it was of no\nuse. What with her magic and her strength he was no more in her hands\nthan is a little fish in the hands of a man. He was all mixed up with\nother lake things, with fish and with scum, with water-beetles and\nsticky weed, with mud and with wriggling creatures, and presently he\nfound himself toppled head foremost into a basket, all dazed and weak.\nIt was dark there, but by the bumping he knew that he was being carried\nsomewhere.\n\nSoon he was tumbled into an evil-smelling place and must have fallen\ninto a trance, or slept. Again, he may not have known what passed\nbecause of the old witch\u2019s enchantments, for when he came to himself he\ndid not know whether he had been there for a long time or a little. But\nsoon he made out that he was in a stone house and through a small hole\nin the wall saw that the place where the house stood was bare of grass\nand full of great gray rocks, and he remembered his dream and thought\nthat it was all very unlike what had really happened.\n\nBut in that he was not altogether right, for while he was in no cage and\nno twining vine with glorious flower was there, yet there was something\nelse. For after a little while a door opened, and he saw standing in a\nlight that nearly blinded him with its brightness a maiden full of\nwinning grace, and light and slender, who stretched out her hand to him\nand led him out of the dark into a great hall of stone with a vast\nfireplace. Then having heard his story, which brought tears to her blue\neyes, she opened a lattice and showed him a little room where he might\nhide.\n\n\u201cFor,\u201d said she, \u201cI also was brought to this place long ago, and when I\ncame the old witch killed one who was her slave before me. But before\nshe died she told me the story of the green stone which the witch has,\nand also how were used the magic powders. Since then I have been here\nalone and have been her slave. But now she will kill me and will keep\nyou for her servant until she tires of you, when she will catch another.\nAnd so it has been for many, many years, and each one that dies has told\nthe power of the green stone to the other, though none had dared to use\nit.\u201d\n\nNow hearing all that, Stout Heart was all for running away at once and\ntaking the maiden from that dreadful place, but just as he opened his\nmouth to speak there came to their ears the voice of the old witch.\n\n\u201cHide then,\u201d said the maiden, \u201cand all may yet go well. For I must go to\nget the green stone by means of which we may fly. With you I will dare.\nAlone I was afraid to venture.\u201d\n\nEven then he hesitated and did not wish to hide, but she thrust him into\na little room and closed the door. Through the wall he heard the witch\nenter and throw a pile of wood on the hearth.\n\n\u201cI have a new prize,\u201d said the ogress. \u201cYou I have fattened long enough\nand now you must be my meal. One slave at a time is enough for me, and\nthe lad will do. Go then, fetch pepper and salt, red pepper and black,\nand see to it that you lose no time, for I am hungry and cannot wait.\u201d\n\nThe girl went into another room and the witch fell on her knees and\nbegan to build a roaring fire. Soon the maiden re\u00ebntered, but running\nlightly, and as she passed the old woman she cast on her some of the\nmagic powder which she had brought instead of salt and pepper. The hag\nhad no idea that it was the powder that the girl had thrown, and\nthinking that she had been careless with the salt and pepper began to\nscold her, then getting to her feet took her by the hair, opened the\ndoor of the little room in which Stout Heart was, and little knowing\nthat the lad was there cast her in, screaming:\n\n\u201cStay there, useless one, until I am ready to roast you.\u201d\n\nThe maiden thrust the green stone into the hands of Stout Heart and at\nonce they flew through the window and out under the arch of the sky. As\nfor the old witch, the powder did its work and she began to swell so\nthat she could not pass out of any of the doors. But presently the boy\nand girl, from a height at which they could see below them the narrow\nvalley and the witch house, saw that the old hag was struggling to get\nout by way of the roof.\n\nThe two lost no time then. They flew swift and high. But swift too was\nthe witch. Her growing had finished and out over the top of the house\nshe burst, and seeing the escaping pair, began to run in the direction\nthey had taken.\n\nSo there was much speeding both in the air and on the earth, and unlucky\nit was for the two that the green stone allowed those who carried it to\nfly only in the daytime. All this the maiden told Stout Heart as they\nflew. The old witch well remembered that at night there was no power in\nthe flying stone and was gleeful in her wicked old heart as she watched\nthe sun and the lengthening shadows. So she kept on with giant strides\nand leapings, and going at such a rate that she was always very nigh\nunder the two in the air. No deer, no huanaco could have bounded lighter\nover the ground than she did, and no ostrich could have moved swifter.\n\nWhen the sun began to drop in the western sky, and he and she were\nlooking at one another with concern as they flew, the maiden bethought\nher of a plan, and scattering some of the magic powder on the earth she\nrejoiced to see that the leaves on which the powder fell turned into\nrabbits. The sight of that the witch could not resist, and she stopped a\nmoment to catch some of the little animals and swallow them, so a little\ntime was won for the fliers.\n\nBut the hungry old witch soon went on and regained the time she had lost\nand was under them again, running as fast as ever. So more powder was\nscattered, this time on some thorn-bushes, which changed to foxes. Again\nthe old woman stopped to eat and the two gained a little. But the sun\nwas lower and they found themselves dropping ever nearer to the earth,\nflying indeed but little higher than the tree-tops, and as they saw, the\nold witch in her leaps lacked but little of touching them.\n\nAhead of them was the lake in which Stout Heart had been caught, the\nwaters red as blood with the light of the western sky, but the power of\nthe stone was failing with the waning day, and of the powder they had\nbut a small handful left. As for the witch, so near was she that they\ncould hear her breathing, could almost imagine that they felt her\nterrible claws in their garments.\n\nOn the bank of the lake the last handful of the magic powder was cast,\nand they saw the grass turn to ants and the stones to great turtles as\nthey passed over the water, but so low that their feet almost touched\nthe surface of the lake. The power of the stone was growing weak.\n\nThe old witch, seeing the turtles, stopped to swallow them, shells and\nheads, and that gave the youth and maiden time enough to reach the\nopposite shore, where the power of the stone was quite exhausted as the\nsun touched the rim of the earth. The gentle maiden clung to Stout Heart\nin great fear then as they saw the old witch plunge into the lake, for\nshe could travel on water as fast as she could on land. Indeed, the\nfearful old woman cut through the waters so swiftly that a great wave\nleaped up on either side of her, and it was clear that before the sun\nhad gone she would have her claws in the two friends.\n\nBut when she was in the middle of the lake the weight of the turtles she\nhad swallowed began to bear her down. In vain she struggled, making a\ngreat uproar and lashing her hands and feet so furiously that the water\nbecame hot and a great steam rose up. Her force was spent and the\nturtles were like great stones within her, so she sank beneath the\nwater, and was seen no more.\n\nGreat was the joy of the people when Stout Heart brought the maiden to\nhis home, for she became his wife and was loved by all there as the\nfairest woman among them.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                          THE WONDERFUL MIRROR\n\n\nTHIS is the tale of Suso who was the daughter of a very rich man, a very\nkind-hearted one, too. Never was beggar turned from his door, nor in the\nlength and breadth of his land was there hunger or want. And he loved\nSuso no less than she loved him. She was very close to his heart and all\nthat could be done to make her happy he did. As for her, there was no\npleasure in her day if she was not assured of his happiness.\n\nWhen her sister had left home to be married, Suso and her father had\ngone about planning a great park which Suso was to have for her own, a\npark of terraced, flowered hills. And when it was finished, both birds\nand animals came to live there and the air was full of song. So in that\nplace Suso played with her companions, and their hearts were in tune\nwith the beauty all about. It was a never-ending pleasure to seek out\nnew places in the great park, cool nooks in which were little waterfalls\nwhose silver music mingled with the whispering of the leaves, or shaded\nspots where were ponds of crystal water and fountains and seats and\nbright green carpets of moss.\n\nFor a long time there was happiness, until, indeed, her father married\nagain, for her mother had died when Suso was a small child. Then one day\nthere was a cloud of grief in the maiden\u2019s heart, because on a silent,\nmoonlit night she had walked with her father and he had told her that he\nwas troubled with a wasting sickness and feared that he had not long to\nlive. Some enemy, he said, had cast a spell on him, so that day by day\nhe grew weaker and weaker and weaker. Wise men and doctors had looked\ninto the matter, had sat solemnly and thought, had guessed and wondered,\nbut had agreed on one thing only\u2014that something was wrong. What that\nsomething was they did not know, but they agreed that if the thing that\nwas wrong could be discovered and removed, all would go well again.\nBecause of what her father had told her, Suso was sad and often wandered\nto a quiet place where she could tell her troubles to the trees.\n\nThe stepmother was not at all fair in her ways and not only disliked\nSuso, but was very mean and treacherous, hiding her hatred from the\nfather and petting Suso when he was near, stroking her hair and saying\npretty things. So well did the wicked woman play her part that nothing\ncould have made the father believe other than that she loved Suso quite\nas much as he did. For instance, on that moonlit night when he had told\nhis daughter of his trouble, seeing her tears, for she had wept\nbitterly, he had said:\n\n\u201cBut Suso, my dove, your mother will care for you tenderly when I am\ndead, for she loves you dearly.\u201d\n\nAt that the girl stifled her sobs and dried her tears, lest the father\nshe loved so well should be wounded by her grief, and seeing her calmed\nhe had supposed that all was well and that his words had soothed her.\n\nBut see how it really was with Suso and her stepmother. There was one\nday, not long after, when father and stepmother and daughter were\nstanding by the fountain, watching the wavering shadows flying across\nthe green, when the man suddenly felt a clutching pain at his heart and\nwas forced to sit down for very weakness. When he felt a little better\nand the first sharpness of the pain had gone, Suso walked with him to\nthe house, and when he was comfortably seated and had a feather robe\ncast about him, he bade her return to her stepmother. That she did,\nbecause she was bid, although her wish would have been to sit at his\nfeet. Because of her unwillingness and her grief she went softly, and\nnot singing and dancing, as was her fashion. And what was her terror\nwhen she saw and heard the wicked woman talking to a great horned owl\nthat sat in the hollow of an old tree! So terrible that seemed, that\nSuso could find nothing to say, but stood with clasped hands, her heart\na-flutter. Seeing Suso, the woman motioned to the owl and the bird said\nno more, but sat listening, its head on one side. Then the stepmother\ntook Suso by the hand and drew her into a place where they could be seen\nby the father, but far enough away to be out of earshot. But the father,\nseeing the woman and the maiden standing thus together, was happy,\nthinking that his daughter had a friend. It made him happier still to\nsee the woman take Suso\u2019s arm and pull it gently about her waist. But he\ndid not hear what was said, for had he heard, it would have cut him to\nthe heart.\n\nThis is what the woman said, and her voice was like a poison-dart as she\nwhispered loud enough for the owl to hear:\n\n\u201cSuso, stand thus with your arm about my waist so that your father may\nsee us together. Thus he will think that I love you.\u201d Then she hissed in\nthe girl\u2019s ear: \u201cBut I hate you, hate you, hate you.\u201d\n\nAnd the owl lifted his head, blew a little and repeated softly: \u201cHate\nyou\u2014Hoo!\u2014Hoo!\u201d\n\nFrom far off in the woods came the sound of an answering owl like an\necho: \u201cHate you\u2014Hoo!\u2014Hoo!\u201d and it seemed to Suso that all the world\nhated her for no cause, for the screeching parrots, too, repeated the\ncry. As for the sweet feathered things that she loved, they had all fled\nfrom that place.\n\nSoon the stepmother spoke again and the owl dropped to a lower branch\nthe better to hear. \u201cSuso,\u201d said the woman, \u201cyour father cannot live\nmuch longer. The spell is upon him and day by day he nears his death.\nBecause of that I am glad, for when he dies, all this land, the house,\nand all its riches, must be mine.\u201d\n\nHearing that vicious speech Suso was well nigh faint with fear and\nhorror and would have sped to her father to warn him. But the woman\ncaught her by the wrist, twisting it painfully, and pinched the soft\nplace on her arm with her other hand, and stooping again so that it\nseemed to the watching father that she kissed Suso, she said:\n\n\u201cBut see to it that you say no word, for the moment that you say\nanything but good of me, that moment your father will fall dead.\u201d\n\nSo what was Suso to do?\n\nThus it was that Suso crept to quiet places and told her tale to the\nwhispering leaves and to the evening breeze, and thus it was that in the\nmidst of all that beauty of golden sunlight and silver-glinted waters\nand flower-twined forest she could not but be sad. For there were tears\nin her heart, and everything that her father did for her was as nothing\nand like a crumbling tower.\n\nBut she had told the trees (and trees bend their tops though they are\nfoot-fast, and leaves, too, whisper one to another), so that the tale\nwent abroad, though of this, Suso knew nothing.\n\n                                   II\n\nNow while all this was going on there lived in the hills far off a\nyouth, and his name was Huathia. Brown-haired he was and bright-eyed\ntoo, with clear skin and strong arms, and all who knew him said that he\nwas a good lad and honest.\n\nHe was a herder of goats and llamas, and one day, as he was out in the\nvega with his flock, he chanced to see a falcon wheeling high in the\nair, carrying something in its beak that sent the rays of the sun\nflashing far, like silver light. Then the bird dipped with the thing it\nwas carrying, looking like a glittering falling star, and Huathia for a\nmoment lost sight of the bird as it dropped behind a bush. But it soon\nrose and took to flight, this time without the shining thing. So Huathia\nwent to the place where the falcon had dropped, and there at the bottom\nof a little stream he saw a bright round piece of silver. The lad\nrescued it and looked at it with astonishment as it lay in his hand, a\npolished and smooth disc it was, that reflected his face as clearly as a\nmirror. So he kept it, wrapping it in a leaf, and took it that night to\nthe place where the lad lived with another herdsman, a very wise and\ngood man who knew many strange things, and he told the youth that it was\nthe wonderful mirror of one called Paracaca, long since dead. He said\nthat whoever looked in it saw his own face as others saw it, but the\nowner of the mirror saw something else, \u201cfor,\u201d added he, \u201cwith it you\nmay see the hidden spirit of other people, seeing through the mask they\nwear. And if a man has the face of a man but the heart of a fox then\ncertainly while such a man beholds his own face, you shall see the other\ncreature in him.\u201d\n\nHearing that, the youth Huathia was much amazed at the magic of the\nthing and, holding it so that the face of his herder friend was shown in\nthe mirror, saw, not the rough bearded face of the man alone, all\nknotted like a tree-trunk, but a face that was full of kindness and\ngentleness, at which he was glad.\n\nSo he placed the wonderful mirror in his bag and carried it about with\nhim. The next day, while he was leaning against the trunk of a tree and\nplaying on his flute, he seemed to hear a whispering, and putting his\nreed away he listened intently. Still and small, still and small were\nthe voices that he heard, as tree-head bent to tree-head and leaf\nmurmured to leaf, but soon he caught the rumour that ran, and learned\nthe tale that in the country of the rich man there was a creature\ntimorous and frail, whose gentle heart was heavy with sorrow, and that\nan unknown evil brooded dark.\n\nNo time lost he then, seeing that there was something of worth that he\ncould possibly do, but gave the care of the goats and llamas to his\nfriend, took his arrows and bow, his bag with a little food and the\nwonderful mirror, and after bidding his friend good-bye set off for the\nland of the rich man. What was strange was that while all had been\nsilent in the soft green woods that morning, except for the sound of his\nflute, no sooner had he started on his way than a gay chorus came from\nthe bright birds and the world was full of mirth. So, well content, he\nwent on his way, a ragged herdsman, but light of heart and strong of\nlimb and brave.\n\nInto the land of the rich man he went and came in time to a place where\nsat the maiden under a tree, doves at her feet and glittering\nhumming-birds about her head. When Suso saw the youth her heart leaped\nfor joy, for she knew him for a kind lad, though never before had she\nset eyes on him.\n\n\u201cAre you a beggar and poor?\u201d she asked. \u201cFor here there is plenty for\nall.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am no beggar,\u201d he answered, \u201cand for myself I am well content with\nwhat I have. But it has been whispered about the world and I have heard\nthe tale, that there is a great sorrow upon you, and that some unknown\nevil is destroying the beauty and the bliss of this place, so I have\ncome to do what is to be done.\u201d\n\nAt that Suso said no more but rose up and took Huathia by the hand and\nled him to her father. It was a day on which the good man was very weak,\nbut seeing that his daughter was pleased with her new companion he\nordered his servants to spread a table under the trees, and the three of\nthem had a feast of goat\u2019s milk and fruit, and cassava bread, though the\nfather could eat but little. Then Huathia took his flute and played\nsweet music until the world seemed full of peace, and gripping grief had\nvanished. Suso, too, sang sweetly, so that for a moment the father\nthought that the shadow that was upon him was but a dream and might\npass.\n\nThey talked long and long, the three of them, and Huathia learned much\nabout the rich man\u2019s failing strength, whereupon it came to him somehow,\nthat by means of his wonderful mirror he might perchance discover what\nevil thing was about that place. To him the rich man said:\n\n\u201cIf with this mirror you can find the hidden evil thing and can restore\nmy strength again, then there is nothing too great that I own which may\nnot be yours for the asking.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is but one thing I want,\u201d said Huathia. \u201cFor I love Suso the\ngentle and would marry her.\u201d\n\nThe rich man thought long after this speech, stroking the hair of Suso\nwho sat at his knee, for it had not entered into his mind that his\ndaughter might be the gift which the youth demanded as his price. But\nlooking at the maiden he saw that her eyes were cast down, though for a\nmoment they had looked up swiftly as Huathia spoke. Then, too, it was\ncertain that since the youth had been there, the song of the birds was\nlouder in the thicket and the green of the trees brighter.\n\nSo the father said thoughtfully: \u201cIf you find the cause of the trouble\nthat is upon me and relieve it so that I am healed again, then you may\nhave my daughter for your wife, though you must promise me that you will\nstay in this place.\u201d\n\nThat, Huathia promised readily enough, and stooped to Suso and kissed\nher, and having done so, went away to the dark pool in the woods to\nsleep, at the very moment the stepmother came out of the house to join\nher husband and his daughter.\n\n                                  III\n\nAs it happened that night, there was a thin new moon, and the youth\nslept but little because of the croaking noise made by the frogs.\nPresently, full awake, he sat up, and it seemed to him that the air was\nfull of noise, not only of frogs but of the hooting of owls and the\nwhirring of bats, and looking he saw the strange sight of a great white\ntoad with two heads, and presently about that fearful thing other things\ngathered. From rock and hole came unclean creatures, abominable serpents\nand centipedes and great gray spiders, and all these gathered in a\ncircle, the two-headed toad in the centre. With wide-open eyes Huathia\nwatched, although the sight of so much that was noisome came near to\nbenumbing and stupefying him, and incomplete shapes seemed to be looking\nat him with evil eyes from the black depth of the forest.\n\nSoon the owl began to mourn and the song fell into words and the youth\nheard this:\n\n            \u201cWho knows where hides our queen? Hoo! Hoo!\u201d\n\nAnd first one creature and then another answered:\n\n              \u201cThe toad, our queen, lies hid unsought\n              Beneath the stone that men have wrought.\u201d\n\nAnd so it went on, a mad and horrible concert, with bat and owl and\ngreat ghost-moth whirling about on silent wings, until sickened of it\nall Huathia rose up and clapping his hands to his ears fled from the\nplace. And when he had gained a quiet and lonely spot he sat down, but\nin his ears rang what he had heard:\n\n              \u201cThe toad, our queen, lies hid unsought\n              Beneath the stone that men have wrought.\u201d\n\nSo he wondered and wondered where could be the stone that men had\nwrought, and the story that men had told of a great temple on the\nmountains came to him. But that place seemed too far away.\n\nWhen it was full day the youth went to the house, and in time the rich\nman came forth and greeted him. Then came the stepmother, who fixed her\nlarge dark eyes on Huathia, not looking at him straight, but sideways.\nSuso came shortly afterward and the youth could not take his eyes from\nher. It seemed to him that she was the most beautiful of living things\nas she sat on her stool by the side of her father, her hair touched by\nthe golden light so that it seemed to be as full of ripples as a\nsun-kissed brook. So there was pleasant talk while they ate, and, after,\na drinking-in of soft music as Huathia played on his flute. Suso sang\nwhen Huathia had finished, and though her song had a touch of sadness in\nit, it seemed to her pleased father that all on earth that was soft and\nshapely and fair was gathered there in that garden, until catching the\neye of his wife he was reminded that his life was flowing away, and the\nold grief came upon him.\n\nSomehow talk fell upon Huathia and his mirror and the strange way in\nwhich he had found it, and he took it from his bag. As he looked in it,\nSuso came and stood behind him, so that he saw the reflection of her\nface and the true picture of herself, and there was a gentleness there,\nthe gentleness of the dove and the purity of the flower. The rich man\ncame, too, looking over Huathia\u2019s shoulder and saw his own reflection.\nBut what the youth saw was a face that denoted great bravery and\nkindness. Seeing all this the stepmother stretched her hand across the\ntable and took the mirror, gazing at the picture of her own dark beauty.\nThen Huathia stepped to her side and looked into the disc. He saw, not\nthe dark eyes and night-black hair that she saw, not the face of a proud\nwoman, but the face of a toad, and when she held the polished silver\nfurther off, the better to see, the toad-face changed, so that he saw a\ndouble-headed toad. But of that she knew nothing and did not even guess\nthat he knew her for a vile witch and no true woman. And as she\ncontinued to gaze and her thoughts wandered, so did new things come into\nthe picture that Huathia saw, and he beheld about her neck two writhing\nwhite snakes, a sight so horrible that he could scarcely hold his\ncountenance or prevent himself from calling out. Having seen to her\ncontent, the woman rose from her stool and left the room.\n\nThe rich man, already tired, for his night\u2019s sleep did not revive him,\nstood up and beckoned to the youth to give him an arm. Suso supported\nhim on the other side and so they walked slowly to a seat beneath a\ngreat flowering bush near the house. Having found his seat and being\nwrapped in his feather mantle by Suso, he asked the youth to play the\nflute again. Huathia was ready and willing, but somehow the memory of\nthe two-headed toad and the two white snakes made him nervous, and when\nhe put his flute to his lips no sweet sounds came, but instead rude\nnoises like the hissing of snakes and the croaking of frogs and the\nscreeching of parrots. Even Suso stopped her ears and her father bade\nthe youth cease his noise.\n\n\u201cAre you of those who make my last days the wearier with your noises?\u201d\nhe asked sorrowfully. Then he added: \u201cFor many nights I have dreamed of\ntoads with two heads and of snakes that hung over me, and now you come\nwith your flute and the noises that such evil things make. I had\nexpected better of you, Huathia, seeing that I have treated you as a\nson.\u201d\n\nHuathia earnestly assured him that he had no wish to do other than to\nmake music, and he ended by saying: \u201cThere is, I am sure, some\nenchantment in this place, for though the sun is warm I feel a chill, as\nif some clammy thing enfolded me.\u201d\n\nHe shivered as he spoke, though he was a lad whose blood ran warm; not\nafraid, not given to idle fancies. Of a sudden his eyes fell upon a\nlarge grindstone that lay near by. It was a stone so great that two men\ncould hardly make shift to raise it, and so it had been left there for\nyears and grasses had grown about it. But when Huathia saw it, there\nleaped into his mind the song that he had heard:\n\n              \u201cThe toad, our queen, lies hid unsought\n              Beneath the stone that men have wrought.\u201d\n\nIt had meant little in the night, but in a flash he saw that the\ngrindstone was a stone wrought by men. So fitting an arrow to his bow he\nhanded the weapon to Suso, telling her to shoot whatever evil thing was\ndiscovered when he lifted the stone. With a great effort he raised the\nstone suddenly, heavy though it was, lifting it high above his head, and\nthere, in a hollow place where the stone had been, sat a large, white,\ndouble-headed toad.\n\n\u201cShoot, Suso, shoot!\u201d commanded the father. \u201cLet not that evil thing\nescape. It is the creature that torments me at night.\u201d\n\nSwift flew the arrow and it pierced the body of the toad. At the same\nmoment there fell from the roof of the house two monstrous white\nserpents where they had lain hidden. Like lightning Huathia, having\nseized the bow, sent two arrows flying, and each serpent was cut into\nhalves. In less than three moments three evil things died, and it was\nlike the sun coming from a cloud-veil, the way in which joy came to that\nplace. The weakness of the father fell from him like a cloak. The bodies\nof the toad and the snakes withered and shrivelled, and as a light\nbreeze sprang up, what was left of them was blown away as dust. There\nwere soft stirrings in the thicket and the whole world burst into song.\nSo both father and daughter knew then that the witcheries were gone and\nthe evil creatures vanished for ever, and that all the trouble that had\nbeen upon that place came from the wicked stepmother.\n\nSo youth and maiden were married, and the father soon regained his\nhealth and strength, and in all the world there were no happier people\nthan they.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                      THE TALE OF THE LAZY PEOPLE\n\n\nIN Colombia, it seems, there were always monkeys, or if not always, at\nleast as far as the memory of man goes. An old historian named Oviedo\nnoted that and wrote: \u201cWhen the Christians make an expedition to the\ninterior and have to pass by woods, they ought to cover themselves well\nwith their bucklers . . . for the monkeys throw down nuts and branches\nat them. . . . I knew one, a servant. This man threw a stone at a\nmonkey, who caught it and returned it with such force that it knocked\nout four or five of Francisco\u2019s teeth, and I know this to be true for I\noften saw the said Francisco, always without his teeth.\u201d\n\nNow one day a man told me the tale of the monkeys, and he talked and\ntalked as he smoked, until the stars came out and shone clear and steady\nand the air was heavy with perfume, and owls and bats floated strangely,\nas they will do, and when he had finished he still talked, taking up\nforgotten ends of his tale and winding in and about, making a long\naffair of a short matter. But then he had nothing else to do but to talk\nand was mighty pleased, it seemed, to have someone to listen to him.\nThen, when we should have been sleeping, he went on talking, picking out\na piece of the tale here and another piece there, and explaining until I\nwas well nigh like to get the story tangled myself. But here is the meat\nof it:\n\nLong, long ago there were no monkeys, and the trees were so full of\nfruit, and the vines of grapes, that the people became lazy, and at last\ndid little but eat and sleep, being too idle to carry away the rinds and\nskins of the fruit that they lived on, and certainly too lazy to clean\ntheir thatched houses.\n\nIt was very pleasant at first, but soon not so pleasant, for winged\nthings that bit and stung came in thousands to feed on the things thrown\naside, and they, too, grew lazy, finding so much to eat ready at hand,\nand when people tried to brush them away there was a loud and angry buzz\nand much irritated stinging, so that soon every one was wonder-struck,\nnot knowing exactly what to do. For a time it seemed easier to move the\nlittle village to a new spot and to build new houses, for the dwellings\nwere light affairs and in a day or less a good house could be built. But\nthen they lived by a lake from which the water for drinking was taken,\nand as it was but a little body of water, it was not long before the\npeople had built right round the still pool and so were back again at\nthe starting place. As for the stinging flies, they were soon worse than\nthe mosquitoes, while a great wasp with pink head and legs and bands of\nblack and gold on its body, though very pretty to see, was worst of all.\nSo it was no easy matter to know what to do, and there was much talk and\nmuch argument, and all that the people agreed on was that something had\nto be done, and that, very soon.\n\nOne day there came to the village a queer and rather faded kind of man,\nragged and tattered and torn as though he had scrambled for miles\nthrough the thorn-bush forest. He had rough yellow hair, and queer\nwrinkles at the corners of his eyes which made him look as if he were\nsmiling. It was late in the afternoon when he came and the people were\ntaking their rest after the noon meal, so no one took much notice of him\nalthough he went here and there, looking at things, and so walked round\nthe lake. But the curiosity of everyone was excited when he was seen to\nmake a basket, which he did quickly, and then commence to gather up the\nfruit skins and rinds in one place. Now and then some one or other\nraised himself in his hammock, with a mind to talk to him, but it seemed\nalmost too much trouble, and when some great blue-winged butterfly\nfluttered past or some golden-throated humming-bird flashed in the\nsunlight, their eyes wandered away from the old man and they forgot him\nagain. So the sunlight died and the forest was a velvet blackness and\neveryone slept, though the old man still worked on, and the next morning\nwhen the people awoke he was still working diligently, though he had but\na small place cleared after all.\n\nThe very thought that any one would work all night made the head man\nshiver with a kind of excitement, yet he was very curious to know why\nthe stranger went to so much trouble, seeing that he neither lived there\nnor was of the lake men. At the same time it made his spirit droop to\nthink that if the place was to be cleared up, he and everyone else had a\nmountain of work in sight. So Tera, the head man, called to Cuco, who\nwas his servant, telling him to bring the stranger to him, and Cuco, who\nwas very respectful, said that he would attend to it. Then Cuco did his\npart by calling Yana and delivering the message to him. And Yana in turn\ntold his servant, Mata, who told his servant, Pera, who told his\nservant, Racas, who told a boy, so that at last the message reached the\nold man. Then back went the old man, handed by the boy to Racas, by\nRacas to Pera, by Pera to Mata, by Mata to Yana, and by Yana to Cuco, so\nthat at last he stood before Tera, the head man, and the others, being\ncurious to know what was afoot, gathered about.\n\n\u201cWhat is your name, from where do you come, and what do you want?\u201d asked\nTera, putting his three questions at once, to save trouble. Then the\nhead man looked at those about him with a little frown, as much as to\nsay, \u201cNote how wisely I act,\u201d and each man who had heard, seeing that\nthe head man looked his way, nodded at his neighbour, as though calling\nattention to the wisdom of the head man, so all went very well. But the\nlittle old man stood there very simply, making no fuss at all and quite\nunimpressed with the greatness of the great man.\n\n\u201cI want to work,\u201d he answered. \u201cI want to be told what you want done and\nto see that it is done.\u201d\n\nTo be sure, the language that he spoke was one new to those who\nlistened, but somehow they seemed to understand. But the thing that he\nsaid they found truly astonishing and could hardly believe their ears.\nBut the head man, though as astonished as any one there, quickly\nregained his composure and asked this question:\n\n\u201cWhat is your trade?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no trade,\u201d said the old man. \u201cBut I get things done.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat kind of things?\u201d\n\n\u201cAll kinds of things.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you mean big things, like house-building and all that?\u201d asked the\nhead man.\n\n\u201cYes. And little things too, which are really big things when you come\nto consider,\u201d said the old man, but that seemed an odd if not a silly\nthing to say, the head man thought.\n\n\u201cLittle things left undone soon become big things,\u201d explained the old\nman, and waved his hand in the direction of a heap of fruit skins and\nhusks near by.\n\n\u201cYes. Yes. But you must not preach to us, you know,\u201d said Tera a little\ntestily. \u201cTell me the names of the trades you have.\u201d\n\nSo the little old man began to tell, naming big things and very little\nthings, things important and things not important at all, and having\nfinished, asked very politely whether any one there had anything to be\ndone. As for pay he said that he wanted none at all and would take none,\nand he said that because some of those gathered about him began offering\nhim things.\n\nFor instance, Pera said: \u201cIf you work for me, I will let you have one\nfish out of every ten that you catch, for I am a fisherman.\u201d And Racas\npushed him aside, saying: \u201cBut I will do better, for I am supposed to be\nfruit gatherer and will give you two things for every ten you gather.\u201d\nAnd so it went, each bidding higher than his neighbour, until it came to\nthe turn of the man whose duty it was to gather the rinds and fruit\nskins. He said, \u201cI will let you have, not one out of ten, nor two out of\nten, nor five out of ten that you gather, but ten out of ten, if you\nwill work for me.\u201d At that the old man said quite positively that he\nwould take no pay at all.\n\nNo more was said then and the little old man turned away without as much\nas bowing to the head man, seeing which the head man waved his hand and\nsaid: \u201cYou may go, and so that you will lose no time, you need not bow\nto me.\u201d And all the rest gathered there said very hastily: \u201cNor need you\nbow to me, either.\u201d\n\nThe old man took small notice of any one, but went away singing, for he\nhad a gay, light-hearted disposition, and having reached the place he\nhad cleared, he took flat pieces of wood and began cutting out figures\nlike little men, and each figure had a kind of handle that looked like a\nlong tail. Nor did he cease whittling until he had made at least twenty\nwooden figures for each man in the village. Being finished he stood up\nto stretch his legs and straighten his back, and when the people asked\nhim what the little figures were for, he shrugged his shoulders but\nspoke never a word. Then he lifted the figures that he had made, one by\none, and set them upright in the sand until there was a long row of\nthem, and took his place in front of them, like a general before his\narmy. It was beautiful to look at, for one figure was as like another as\none pin is like another, and for a moment even the old man stood\nadmiring the line. After a moment he waved his hand in a peculiar way,\nspoke some magic word, and waved his hand again, at which each of the\nfigures came to life and nodded its head, seeing which all the people\nlaughed and clapped their hands. The ragged man bade them make no noise,\nbut watch.\n\n\u201cSince you do not like to work,\u201d he said, \u201cI have made twenty figures\nfor each of you, and they will work for you without pay, doing what you\nrequire them to do; only observe this, you must not give any figure more\nthan one particular job. And now let each man or woman clap his hands\nthree times, then call out the name of the thing to be done.\u201d\n\nWhen he had said this, the figures started running, twenty gathering in\na circle about each man there, bowing from the hips and straightening\nthemselves again, so that their tails of wood went up and down like\npump-handles.\n\n\u201cNow see,\u201d said the ragged man, \u201cyou have things to work for you, and as\nI call out, the figures will stand forth, each ready to do his task.\u201d\nAnd he began calling, thus:\n\n\u201cArmadillo hunters, stand forth!\u201d and a hundred and more active figures\nran together like soldiers.\n\nSo he named others in order as:\n\nBread makers.\n\nCassava gatherers.\n\nDespolvadores, who would gather up dust.\n\nEsquiladors, who would shear the goats.\n\nFarsante men, whose work was to amuse tired men.\n\nGuardas, to keep order about the place.\n\nHorneros, or bakers.\n\nIndustriosos, who were to do odd jobs everywhere.\n\nJumentos, whose work it was to carry burdens.\n\nLabradores, to do heavy work and clear away garbage.\n\nMoledores, to grind the corn.\n\nNarradores, who told stories, related gossip and so on.\n\nOlleros, or pot makers.\n\nPocilga figures, to attend to the pigs.\n\nQueseros, to make cheese from goat\u2019s milk.\n\nRumbosos, or proud-looking things to walk in parades.\n\nServidores, or food carriers.\n\nTrotadores, to run errands.\n\nVaqueros, to attend to the cows.\n\nSo everyone was well pleased and each one had his twenty figures to do\nall that needed to be done, and all that day there was a great scraping\nand cleaning and carrying and currying and hurrying and scurrying.\nSilently the little figures worked, never stopping, never tiring, never\ngetting in one another\u2019s way, and all that the living people had to do\nwas to rest and watch the men of wood, and keep their brains free for\nhigher things. For it must be remembered that before the old man came\nthere with his wonderful gift, the people had complained that there was\nso much to be done that they had no time to write poems or to make songs\nor to create music, and that with the daily tasks abolished their brains\nwould be more active.\n\nNot two days had passed before the children of the place complained that\nthey did not have a chance and that they had so much to do, what with\nhunting for things lost, looking after their small brothers and sisters,\nkeeping things in order, trying to remember things they were told,\ncleaning things, and a dozen other tasks, that they really had no time\nto play, much less to study. So they went in a body to the old man and\nasked him to give each child twenty figures to do odd things. There was\na great deal of fire and expression in his eyes when he made answer that\nif the children really needed help he would lose no time in providing\nit. But the young people were quite positive that they were overworked,\nand the long and short of it was that the old man whittled out many,\nmany more figures, and in another twenty-four hours each and every boy\nand girl had his own:\n\nAbaniquero, or fan maker, so that none had to pluck a palm leaf.\n\nBaliquero figure, to carry letters and messages.\n\nCabrero, to look after the goats.\n\nDesalumbrado, to hunt for things in the dark.\n\nEnse\u00f1ador, or private teacher, who was never to scold.\n\nFlorista, to save them the trouble of gathering flowers.\n\nGuas\u00f3n figure, to amuse them.\n\nHojaldarista, whose work it was to make cakes.\n\nJuego figure, to arrange games.\n\nKeeper of things.\n\nLector, to read and tell stories.\n\nMimo, to act as clown.\n\nNi\u00f1era, to look after younger children.\n\nObediencia figure, to make others obey.\n\nPostor, to buy things for them.\n\nQuitar figures, to take things away when children tired.\n\nRecordaci\u00f3n figures, or rememberers.\n\nSolfeadors, to sing to them.\n\nTortada men, to make pies.\n\nVolantes, as servants.\n\nSo things seemed to be going very well, and before a month had passed in\nall that place there was not a thing out of order, soiled, broken, bent,\nlost, misplaced, undone, unclean, or disorderly. Neither man nor woman\nnor child had to worry; dinners were always prepared, fruits gathered,\nbeds made, houses in perfect order, and all was spick and span. All that\nthe grown-up people had to do was to look on, and no one was proud of\nthe order in his house because every other house in the place was as\norderly. As for the children, they had nothing at all to do but to eat,\ndrink, rest, and sleep. Then, presently, more figures were called for as\nthis one or that wanted a larger house, a finer garden, or grander\nclothes.\n\nBut as the wooden figures became more numerous and as no figure could do\nmore than one task, the ragged man had to make figures for the figures\nand servants for the servants, for as things went on, there had to be\nmore fruit gatherers, more water carriers, more scavengers, more cooks,\nbecause the figures had to eat and drink. Thus it came to pass that\nbefore long, instead of their being twenty figures for each man, there\nwere sixty or seventy, with new ones coming from the old man\u2019s knife\nevery day. Soon the lively manikins were everywhere, inside houses as\nwell as outside, thick as flies in summer and certainly a great deal\nmore persistent, for there could be no closing of doors against the\nmanikins. Indeed, had anything like that been attempted there would have\nbeen a great cry for special door-openers. So, many houses were quite\ncluttered with wooden men, those who were on duty rushing about until it\nmade the head swim to look at them, and those who were resting or\nsleeping, for soon they learned to rest and to sleep, lying about the\nfloors, piled up in corners, or hanging to rafters by their tails. All\nthat increase in help had made for the production of a thousand or more\nguardas, whose task it was to keep order, and they were everywhere,\nalert and watchful and officious, and the real people had to step about\nvery gingerly sometimes, to avoid treading on them and annoying them.\n\nAt last there came a day when the people began to grow a little tired of\ndoing nothing, and they told one another that a little help was a very\ngood thing, but help in excess, too much of a good thing altogether. So\nthere was a meeting and much talk and the manikin narradors, whose duty\nit was to carry gossip and the news, were very busy, rushing from here\nto there with their scraps of information.\n\n\u201cIt is very clear that something must be done,\u201d said Tera, the head man.\n\n\u201cBut everything _is_ being done,\u201d answered the little old man. \u201cIf\n_everything_ is done, something _must_ be done.\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not mean that,\u201d said Tera, who seemed a little testy. \u201cI meant to\nsay that these wooden men must be kept in their places.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut they _are_ in their places,\u201d replied the old man. \u201cTheir place is\neverywhere because they do everything, so they are in their places.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou see, the days are so very long, so very dull,\u201d said the man who\nwished to have time that he might become a poet. \u201cAt the shut of day we\nare not weary.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe do not want to be petted,\u201d said another.\n\n\u201cThe trouble is,\u201d sighed a fat man, \u201cyou can\u2019t be happy when everything\nis done for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd we don\u2019t want to be nobodies,\u201d shouted another.\n\nAnother said very mournfully: \u201cIt seems to me that when these wooden\nthings do things with our things, then the things that they do and make\nand care for are not our things.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo many \u2018things\u2019 in that speech,\u201d said the fat man.\n\n\u201cWell, there are too many things,\u201d answered the other. \u201cLook at me. I\nused to be gardener and now I\u2019m nothing. When my garden is dug and\nplanted and tended and watered and the very flowers plucked by these\nwooden things, and when other wooden things pick up the leaves and pull\nthe weeds and do everything, then my garden does not seem to be mine.\u201d\nHe added after awhile: \u201cI hope you know what I mean, because it is not\nvery clear to me, yet it is so. I remember\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\nAt that the little old man put up his hand and said: \u201cBut that is\nagainst the contract. You must not try to remember, really you must not,\nbecause there are manikins to do all the remembering, if you please.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, but I think\u2014\u2014\u201d began the man, when he was again interrupted.\n\n\u201cPlease do not think,\u201d said the little old man. \u201cWe have things to do\nthe thinking, if you please.\u201d He thought for a moment, his bent\nforefinger on his lips, then he said: \u201cI\u2019ll see what can be done. It is\nclear that you are not satisfied, although you have everything that you\nasked for and certainly all the time that you want.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us do something,\u201d murmured Tera.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m afraid there is nothing that you can do,\u201d said the little old man,\n\u201cbecause, as you see, everything is done, and when everything is done it\nis quite clear that something cannot be left to be done. The only thing\nthat is clear is that there is nothing to be done.\u201d\n\nAt that the meeting broke up and each went to his own hammock to think\nthings over, and soon the general cry was: \u201cWe must have elbow room.\u201d\nAnd hearing that, the little old man went to work and whittled more\nfigures of wood, a whole army of them, ten for each living man, woman,\nand child, and in voices that creaked like wooden machinery they marched\nhither and thither, crying: \u201cElbow room. Elbow room!\u201d\n\nSoon there was confusion. It was manikin against manikin for a time, the\nElbow-room-ers thrusting and pushing the other working manikins, some\ngoing about their work with frantic haste, others interfering with them,\nclutching at them and at the things they carried, a tangled knot of them\nsometimes staggering, to go down with a crash. Soon in every house was a\njangling tumult, manikins and men running about in houses and dashing\nout into the open spaces outside; the noise of slamming doors and\nbreaking pots; the clamour of animals. Above all could be heard\neverywhere cries of \u201cWe want elbow room! We want elbow room!\u201d Soon men\nwere running away from the houses with those strange swift manikins\nhanging to them sometimes beating them, while other manikins threw\nthings out of the doors and through windows, food and household things.\nAnd excited children fled too, while their manikins ran at their sides,\nsome chattering, some acting the clown as was their duty, some telling\nstories as they ran, while other strange little figures of wood ran\nbearing heavy burdens. It was all a dreadful mix-up with no one knowing\nwhat to do, no one knowing where to go, and everywhere the manikins who\nwere guardas, or order keepers, ran about, tripping people and manikins\nalike in the effort to stop the rush. But when the day was near its end\nthere were no people in the houses and the hammocks swung idly, for all\nthe men and women and children, even the white-haired grandfathers and\ngrandmothers, had fled to the further side of the lake, where they could\nhave elbow room, leaving the houses and all that was in them to the\nmanikins.\n\nThe next day, the people plucked their fruit for themselves and it\nseemed as though fruit was never sweeter. The water that they carried\nfrom the lake tasted better and cooler than water had for many a long\nday, and when night came they were happily tired and slept well, without\nany manikin to swing their hammocks and sing to them. And in the morning\nthey woke early to discover the pink and gold of the sunrise most\nwonderful to see, and there was music in the sound of the wind among the\ngrasses. So as the day passed they were both amazed and astonished at\nthe wonderful and beautiful things that they had almost forgotten, the\nsight of butterflies fluttering from flower to flower, the shadows\nchasing across the hills, the richness of the green earth and the\nblueness of the sky, the gold of sunlight on the leaves, the rippling\nwater and the bending trees; indeed the memory of the manikin days was\nlike a fearful nightmare. Very light-hearted then they grew and the\nworld was full of the music of their laughter and song, and briskly they\nworked, enjoying it all, building new houses and making things to put in\nthem.\n\nMeanwhile in the village things had gone queerly. For one thing the\nElbow-room-ers kept up their crowding and pushing, so that the manikins\ntrying to work at their old tasks (and there were many who went on just\nas before) were sadly hindered. There were other figures of wood with\nnothing to do, since the people they served were gone, and these fell to\nquarrelling among themselves and grew mischievous. For instance, the pot\nmakers and the pot cleaners fell out, and the pot cleaners started to\nbreak the pots so that the pot makers would have more work to do. That\nmeant that the clay gatherers and the clay diggers had to work harder,\nthen because they worked harder, though to be sure all their work meant\nnothing and was little more than idle bustle, they grew hungrier and\nwanted more to eat. Because of all that the fruit gatherers had more to\ndo and the water carriers had to work harder and the cassava bread\nmakers had to bake as they had never baked before. That brought the fire\nbuilders into it, and of course the wood gatherers also, for they too\nhad to work harder and to eat more, so still more work came on the food\nbringers. And all the time the Elbow-room-ers rushed about, always in\ngroups of ten, driving and commanding, rushing on workers and sweeping\nthem aside. So everywhere were little figures hurrying one after the\nother, going to and fro, busy about nothing, quarrelling about nothing,\nfighting about nothing.\n\nThe trouble came when the Elbow-room-ers interfered with the dogs and\nthe cats, the goats and the hens, pushing and hustling them. For the\nanimals, disliking all the disorder and clatter, fell upon the manikins,\nworkers and idlers alike. Seeing that, the household utensils took a\nhand and the very pots and kettles ran or rolled or fell, spilling hot\nwater over the wooden things with pump-handle tails. The very embers\nfrom the fires leaped into the fray. All the while from the metates in\nwhich the corn had been ground came a low growling, and the growling\nformed itself into words:\n\n                    Day by day you tortured us\u2014\n                    Grind, grind, grind.\n\n                    Holi! Holi!\n                    Huqui! Huqui!\n                    Grind, grind, grind.\n\n                    Bring to us the torturers\u2014\n                    Grind, grind, grind.\n\n                    Let them feel our power now\u2014\n                    Grind. _Grind._ G R I N D !\n\nSo the metates turned and turned, going round and round without hands,\nand presently an Elbow-room-er that was struggling with a corn-grinder\nstumbled, and both fell between the grinding stones and in a moment were\ncrushed to powder. In a flash house utensils and animals learned the new\ntrick, and in every house manikins were pushed into the grinding stones.\nThen sparks began to fly and roofs to catch on fire and manikins bolted\nhere and there in confusion, sometimes jamming in doorways, there were\nso many and all in such disorder. Then came dazzling, flickering\nlightning and a great rain, so that for very safety the manikins fled to\nthe forest and climbed the trees. And there they have lived ever since,\nfor they grew hair and became monkeys. But the remembrance of all that\npassed stayed with them, and in their hearts to this very day is no love\nfor man, and for that very reason when a Christian passes through a\nforest he must look well to himself, lest the manikins in revenge try to\nhurt him by casting nuts and branches at his head.\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                       RAIRU AND THE STAR MAIDEN\n\n\nPERHAPS my friend Pedro of Brazil told me the story of Rairu and the\nStar Maiden for much the same reason that hungry men fall to talk of\nmeals that they have eaten. When I say hungry men I do not mean men with\nan appetite, but men who have long been on the verge of\nstarvation\u2014shipwrecked sailors, men lost in the desert, and such like.\nThe truth is that what the heart hungers for, the tongue talks of. So my\nfriend Pedro told me many tales of his own warm land where spice-laden\nbreezes blow gently soft, and at the time he told me his tales we two\nwere in the midst of the snows of Tierra del Fuego, when the winds\nshrieked like a thousand demons and the frost-giant had bound river and\nlake.\n\nWe were gold digging on the upper Santa Maria and there came without\nwarning a fierce blizzard, the snow falling for the best part of two\ndays and two nights, and in the morning we could not move from our tent,\nthough we had pitched it in a quiet nook of the hills. We had little to\neat, nothing to read, and no light but the fire-glow, and the world\nseemed to narrow about us, the mountains to close in and the leaden sky\nto drop. And all the while Pedro talked of his gentler land, telling me\nthe glory of hills all purple and green, of sunlit waters and\nflower-crowned children. So, soon we forgot the black south wind and the\ndestroying cold. Pedro half forgot, I think, that hope which led him to\nthe Far South; it was a hope long cherished, that he might find gold\nenough to enable him to live in quiet in his own land among the books\nthat he loved.\n\nHowever, you may think this wearisome talk, judging it better that I\ntell the tale told by Pedro. But I have felt it best to set it down as I\nhave, because Pedro never saw his own land again; so the writing of the\nstory is in some measure done in affection for my friend. As soon as the\nsnow ceased to fall he went away on foot, our horses having wandered\nbefore the storm, and his intention was to win his way to a shack some\neight miles away where he might get some food which we needed sorely\nenough. I in the meantime, we agreed, would take my rifle and try to\nshoot a huanaco or some other thing. But another storm came on and it\nwas not until five days had passed in search that I found Pedro. And he\nwas frozen.\n\nAs I write I see the scene again\u2014the snow-swept hills, the gray sky,\nthe white-laden bushes, and Pedro. I made what haste I could to bury him\nin the ice-bound earth and put up a rough cross to mark the place, and I\nhad barely finished when a white storm swept up and hid both mound and\ncross.\n\nHere is the tale he told, one of many, and he said that he had heard it\noften and often when he was a child.\n\n                               _The Tale_\n\nOf all things, nothing pleased Rairu more than to watch the ways of the\nliving things of the forest, to bend over a flower and drink in its\nbeauty, to lie by the side of a leaf-hidden pool and follow some shaft\nof sunshine as it shot to the depth, or to stand breathless when a wild\nbird broke into song. His father, very bitter against what he deemed\nidleness, often said harsh things, telling Rairu that he would do well\nto attend to matters more enduring. Still, Rairu was what he was. Before\nthe sunlight came over the world he would seek the forest deeps and\nthere, hidden in green thickets, would lose himself in the music of the\nbirds. And as time passed and Rairu grew into young manhood another joy\ncame to him, and the glory of the star-sprinkled sky filled him with\nwonder. Night after night he would wait in a favourite place by a little\ncascade, a place bare of trees, eagerly impatient for the soft light of\nthe first star in the violet sky.\n\nWatching thus Rairu found a thought rise in his mind, a thought that the\nworld would be well only when that order was among men which was in the\nskies. More, it seemed to him that of all living creatures that walked\nthe earth man was the most destructive, the most wasteful, and the most\nuntrustful. Then one night as he lay at the foot of a palm tree, his\nheart was full of gladness because of the song of a night-bird, and it\ncame to him somehow to believe that the stars sang to the bird as the\nbird sang to the stars, so he looked up to find, if possible, which star\nheard that bird, and he saw one that hung low, one far more beautiful\nthan her fellows. Thereafter, when the sky grew soft and dark, his eyes\nsought the Silver One and he waited until the night-bird sang. Like\njewels, like living sparks of sound, the music went up, and like a\nmaiden the Silver One listened. When the star dropped in the west and\nthe song-bird ceased, then Rairu was sad and alone, alone as one in a\nseagirt land whom none may visit.\n\nOne day, it was a day of cloud-flecked sky and humming life, Rairu met\nan old man, thin-haired and bearded, and the stranger hailed him,\ncalling him by name. After some talk, much of which seemed riddlesome to\nthe lad, the old man asked him what of all things, had he his wish,\nwould he choose.\n\nAfter thinking awhile, Rairu said:\n\n\u201cIf the Silver One would come from her place in the sky and go with me\nso that I might admire her beauty both day and night, I would be the\nhappiest man on earth.\u201d\n\nHearing that, the old man bade Rairu go to sleep that night on a high\nhill which was not far away. \u201cAnd,\u201d said he, \u201cif it be that you desire\nthe Silver One for her beauty alone and not that others may envy you in\nyour possession, then it may be that your wish shall be granted.\u201d No\nmore he said, but walked away, singing to himself softly as he went.\n\nAll that day Rairu spent in the forest, eager for the night and the\nstars, and in the noonday heat sat in the shade of the trees with eyes\nfast closed, trying to make a song in which he might tell the world of\nthe Silver One and her great beauty, for it vexed him that so few looked\nto her; but no words came to him to satisfy. Only this, which he thought\nbut a poor thing:\n\n           When men sorrow and rage,\n           When the hearts of men grieve,\n           When arrows of sharp words wound,\n           When there is none to pity pain,\n           In the order of heaven there is sweet delight.\n\n           In the night hushed and still,\n           When is neither weeping nor laughter,\n           In the night-time between two empty days,\n           The Silver One is riding in the sky\n           Singing hand in hand with her sister stars,\n           Singing, because the life of men is an empty dream.\n\nWhen darkness was about to spread he went up the rocky path to the\nhilltop, as the old man had bidden him, and lay there looking at the\nopal fires in the western sky, watching the change to sea-green and\ngold, from orange to pink, and waiting, waiting until the stars should\ncome forth. Now and then he sang the lines of the song he had made, the\nlast lines:\n\n        In the night-time between two empty days,\n        The Silver One riding in the sky\n        Singing hand in hand with her sister stars,\n        Singing, because the life of men is an empty dream.\n\nWhen at last the stars pricked the dark, great was his grief to find\nthat the Silver One was not among them. He searched well, thinking that\nshe hid perhaps behind a leaf, but soon he knew that her sisters went\ntheir way alone. Long and long he looked, and at last, wearied and sad\nat heart, fell asleep, weeping that he had lost the thing to him most\ndear.\n\nAs he slept he dreamed that the earth was bathed in a great white light,\na light that was both light and music, at which he became wonderfully\nhappy. He dreamed that he was lifted up as on a cloud, lifted up high\ninto the heavens and could see, far below him, countless sweetly turning\nspheres of light; and across great dark spaces and gulfs of blackness\nwere other and new stars; and from the edge of nothingness to the edge\nof nothingness all was a-tune. Still, for all that, his heart was heavy,\nbecause in all that stardust there was no Silver One. What was most\nstrange was this: though his heart was heavy, yet a joy was in him, a\nsad joy for that he felt himself as a tight-stretched golden string that\nquivered in tune with the music all about. So he awoke and saw standing\nby his side a maiden clothed in white, whose eyes looked into his heart\nwith deep love.\n\n\u201cArise, Rairu,\u201d said she, \u201cfor I have come to cheer and to comfort. I am\nthe Silver One and you may keep me with you.\u201d So saying she became\nsmall, small but none the less beautiful, so small indeed that she might\nhave stood in the palm of Rairu\u2019s hand.\n\nThen Rairu was the happiest of mortals. He cast about him for a casket\nin which to keep his treasure, but finding none worthy, bethought him of\nhis gourd, a thing which he had carved and adorned with much excellent\nskill. Having cleaned it well, so well that not a grain of dust was in\nit, he set it on the ground on its side in a clean place and the Silver\nOne stepped into it, resting lightly on a bed of light-green moss. All\nthat day Rairu went about, now and then taking the cover from the gourd\nto look within and gaze with delight at the eyes of the Silver One\nlooking up at him. Whenever he did that, from the gourd there came a\nsound of melting music, so entrancing a sound that Rairu felt himself to\nbe a part of all things\u2014a part of the very heavens and the stars and\nthe sun and the moon. Even of the forest with its animals and birds, its\ntrees and its pools, he was a part.\n\nDay and night strange things the Silver One told Rairu, and of those\nthings that which he found most sad was her telling that when the day\ncame on which he took his eyes from her and thought of other things on\nwhich she would not look, things which hid from her in dark places and\nunder roofs, then there would be a dividing and she would become to him\nbut as an aching memory. At that Rairu, after pondering awhile, always\nlaughed, telling her that no sword could sever the thread that bound\nthem.\n\nThere came a day when the Silver One told Rairu that it would be well if\nthey visited the sky-world for a season, and to do that Rairu was quite\nwilling. So at her bidding Rairu sat among the leaves of a palm tree and\nthe Silver One crept out of the gourd and took her place by his side.\nWith a little stick she touched the tree, and at that it grew rapidly,\ngrew until it carried them into a place all bare and treeless, without\nbirds or flowers. The Silver One told Rairu to wait a while and she\nwould return. She sped away and Rairu kept her in his sight, for her\nlight did not dim.\n\nSoon, to his astonishment he saw, close at hand, a beautiful city with\nshining towers and moving lights of many colours, and about it went a\njoyful procession of young men and maidens, dancing and singing and\nplaying instruments. Many beckoned to him to follow them, which he did.\nSoon he came to a great hall, and as he entered a great burst of music\nsounded, whereupon all there fell to dancing, whirling wildly. Wilder\nand more wild grew the music; it became a welter of sound, a boiling\nflood of strange noise that set his brain on fire. From corners leaped\nevil and ugly things, bats, swine, evil-eyed carrion-birds, blunt-tailed\nand mud-coloured serpents and great white toads, soft and clammy. In the\nwild dance they joined and the din grew louder, so that it seemed to\nRairu that his ears must crack. But more fearful things there were, so\nthat Rairu fled to the place where he had stood when the Silver One left\nhim.\n\nShe was there waiting for him, but her eyes, though still full of love,\nwere filled with sad tears. Very gently she chided him for his\ndisobedience, and Rairu hung his head in sorrow and shame, knowing that\nhe must leave the Silver One for a season. It needed no words to tell\nthat the thread was broken. Hand clasped hand then, the more\npassionately because they knew that there would be a parting.\n\n\u201cGo then, Rairu,\u201d said she. \u201cBut mind well that a little toil, a little\nstriving, and thou shalt find me again. In the darkness lean on me, the\nmore because thou knowest thyself to be weak. Under the shadow of death,\ndear Rairu, a fainting love is revived.\u201d\n\nSo Rairu returned to earth, but great was his desire to find again that\nwhich he had lost. And he told his fellow-men of all that he had seen,\nsaying that he must again find his star. Soon, with searching, he found\nhis Silver One and the clear light led him, clothing all that he said\nand did with beauty.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                             [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                       THE CAT AND THE DREAM MAN\n\n\nTHIS is a tale that I heard when I was gold digging in Tierra del Fuego,\nand if you want to get to the tale and skip the introduction, you may.\nTo do that, stop here\u2014and pass over everything until you come to the\nthree stars * * * and begin at \u201cMany years ago.\u201d But if you want\ninformation and all that kind of thing, read straight on and learn that\nthe man who told me the tale was named Soto, Adolpho Soto. He called\nhimself a Bolivian and said that it was a tale of Bolivia, but he had\nnever been to that country. His parents were Bolivian, but he had been\nborn and reared in inland Patagonia, on the east side of the Cordilleras\nand north of the great shallow gulf that runs inland from the Strait of\nMagellan. Anyway, he had heard the tale from others who knew all about\nthe three great stones and how they looked. Certainly he had not read\nthe story, for books meant nothing to him and he would not as much as\nlook at a picture. And it was quite clear to me that he believed every\nword of the tale. Indeed, I am almost sure that he was doubtful in his\nmind as to the wisdom of telling me all of it, thinking that I would not\nbelieve it. Perhaps that is why he told me the tale in two parts, as if\nin some manner I might thus get used to the shock of it. Mind you, on\nthe other hand, I am certain that he did not believe all that I told\nhim, though he was too polite to express unbelief. For instance, he\ncould not quite see how carriages went without horses, nor how men sent\nmessages over miles of wire, nor how the sound of a human voice could\ncome from a little box, without magic; for in the country that Adolpho\ncame from there were no railways, no telegraphs, and no phonographs. So\nto the tale, or rather the first part of it, if you choose to hear it.\n\n                              *    *    *\n\n                            _The First Part_\n\nMany years ago, said Soto, there came into the world a cat. It was in\nthe days when all creatures were harmless; when the teeth and claws of\nthe jaguar did not hurt; when the fang of the serpent was not poisonous;\nwhen the very bushes had no thorns. But this cat was of evil heart and\nunmerciful and a curse to the world, for she went about teaching\ncreatures to scratch and to bite, to tear and to kill, to hide in shady\nplaces and leap out on unsuspecting things. Even a sheep she did not\nleave to its own ways, but commenced to teach that gentle thing to fight\nby butting with its head, though as it came to pass most luckily, the\ncat came to a place where its mischief was stopped, as you shall hear\nsoon, so that se\u00f1or sheep was left with his lesson half or less than\nhalf learned, so that the youngest child now need not fear a whole\nflock.\n\nBut for the most part the cat slept in the daytime, so did not make all\nthe mischief that she might have made, although she dreamed mischief,\nlet it be remembered. But this was the bad thing of it: her dream came\nto life and walked the earth in the shape of a man with a fox-face, and\na very terrible monster was he, for being a dream man he could not be\nkilled. That you may see for yourself.\n\nSometimes he appeared among men, dressed in fine robes in a way of a\nrich man, clothes wonderfully fine, as fine as those that you may see\nabout the men pictured on the playing cards. Sometimes it was otherwise\nand he came as one all worn and travel-stained. Sometimes he came as a\nhead without a body, making mouths or looking slantwise; sometimes he\nran at people, did this dream man, ran with hooked fingers and claw\nnails and made it so that the one he chased could not run at all, or\nrunning, moved but slowly. For such must be the nature of the dreams of\ncats, as everyone knows who has seen a cat with a mouse. But whichever\nway the dream man came, mischief of some kind walked with him, and for\nthe most part he did his evil work by granting men their wishes. For you\nmust know that no man knows the thing that is best for him and for his\nwelfare, and many are apt to see some little things as desirable, the\nwhich in time work out for their own undoing. Thus, once there was a man\nwho was a woodcutter, and growing weary of hard work he sat him down\nunder a tree and sighed, saying that though he worked hard, yet his work\nwas never done, and there were many mouths to feed. Then who should\nappear before him but the fox-faced man, which of course was but the\ncat-dream come to life, the cat meantime being asleep in the sun. So\nthis happened:\n\n\u201cWhy do you complain?\u201d asked the fox-faced one, who knew very well what\nwas afoot.\n\n\u201cAll day I cut and chop, and chop and cut, but at the end of the day\nlittle is the work that I have done, and my very children for whom I\ntoil, and for whom my wife toils, do but grumble that I am not rich,\u201d\nanswered the poor fellow, who was indeed a very worthy man.\n\n\u201cLucky for you, then, is it that you have seen me,\u201d said fox-face. \u201cFor\nknow that I have it in my power to grant you a wish. What then would you\nhave?\u201d\n\nHearing that, the woodcutter was thoughtful, for, in the manner of those\nwho see a dream man, everything seemed right and proper. Still, while he\nhad in his life wished for many things from day to day, when the time\ncame to make a wish he had none ready. Then his eye fell on his ax and\nhe said without thinking: \u201cFor one thing I wish that my ax was an ax so\nthat when I cut a stick or anything, I would have two as big as the\nfirst one.\u201d\n\nTo be sure, had he given thought he might have seen how foolish a wish\nwas that, as both cat and fox-face knew. But he spoke as the wind blew.\nThen fox-face said some words which the woodcutter did not understand,\nand added: \u201cTry now your ax.\u201d\n\nSo the man took a stick about the size of a man\u2019s arm and brought down\nhis ax in the middle of it, and lo, there were two sticks, each the size\nof a man\u2019s arm, instead of two pieces each the half of that. The man\nlooked up, open-mouthed and surprised, to say something, but fox-face\nhad vanished, for the cat had wakened and so her dream ceased.\n\nBut greatly amazed was the man, for, as he soon saw, all his chopping\nwas of no account, for a tree cut down became at once two trees and one\nof those trees cut in halves became two trees again. As for cutting\nsmaller wood, that, too, soon became impossible, seeing that each stick\ngrew to two sticks, so that soon he had to cease work because of the\nwood all about him. Worse still, as he went to the place where he lived,\nthere came across his path a poisonous serpent, and forgetting for a\nmoment the power of his ax he cut the snake in two, and there, hissing\nbefore him, were two snakes. So he fled to his people and told them the\ntale, at which they wondered greatly. But to make sure that the ax would\ndo no mischief, and in truth somewhat fearing it, they hung it in a\ntree, and each man told his son the story of it, so that all might come\nto know it as a thing best left alone.\n\n                                   II\n\nNow in the course of time there came to that place a very wise man who\nhad seen many wonders. It had come to his ears that the cat was a\ncreature of darkness, teaching harmless things evil tricks, but of the\nfox-faced man he knew nothing. The cat only, he considered. So the wise\nman walked the mountains for many days, and one day when the sky was low\nand it was a day of rain, an unpleasant day for the cat, he came upon\nthe evil-minded creature hurrying somewhere.\n\n\u201cWhy in so great a hurry?\u201d asked the wise man. \u201cSit awhile with me and\ntalk.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. No,\u201d said the cat. \u201cI like not your water and I seek a place where\nthere is shelter, so that I may be dry and warm.\u201d Indeed, the cat looked\nvery miserable indeed.\n\n\u201cWell, how would you like to have a house of stone?\u201d asked the wise man.\n\n\u201cThat I should like very much indeed,\u201d answered the cat. \u201cBut it must be\na house large enough for me, and with no room for any other creature,\nfor I am not fond of company. But a house in which I could sit and\ndream, and where no noises might disturb, would be very pleasant. Make\nme such a one and I shall teach you something. Or how about a wish?\nWould you like to have claws like an owl? Or would you like to drink\nblood like a vampire bat? Or would you like to spit poison? Or would you\nlike to bristle like a porcupine?\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you, no,\u201d said the wise man. \u201cI want nothing. But by to-morrow\nthere shall be a house ready for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is it to be built?\u201d asked the cat. \u201cFirst, it must be in a quiet\nplace where men do not go.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt shall be that,\u201d answered the wise man. \u201cBut just now I do not know\nwhere the place may be. I must seek a proper place.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen how shall I find it?\u201d asked the cat.\n\n\u201cAttend,\u201d said the wise man. \u201cI shall put a thread about the world, a\nthread that no man may break with his hands, and when you see that\nthread, follow it and so come to the stone house.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgreed,\u201d said the cat. \u201cBut let the house be just big enough for me.\nLet it be in a quiet place. Also, let it be of such fashion that I can\nslip out backward or leap out forward should an enemy come.\u201d\n\nSo that being said and no more to come, man and cat parted.\n\nBut mark well what followed. On the next day the cat chanced to see the\nthread and followed it, walking down hill and up hill, down mountain and\nup mountain, until she arrived at a high place where stood the wise man.\nAt his feet were three flat stones, two standing upright, the third\nacross the top of the two, so that it was like two sides of a little\nhouse, roofed and of a comfortable size for the cat. So after looking\nabout carefully and suspiciously, the cat entered into it and coiled her\ntail about her, blinked her eyes once, twice, thrice, then slept. And as\nsoon as she was well asleep the wise man fastened the thread about her\nneck, the same thread which went about the world and which no man could\nbreak with his hands, there being magic about it, and se\u00f1ora cat was\nbound for years, and would have been bound for ever, had it not been for\nNasca, about whom you shall hear.\n\nThat ends the tale of the cat, though there is much more to come. And if\nyou are in a hurry to get to the rest of the tale, you may skip from\nthis\u2014to the three stars * * * again, without losing much.\n\nI said that it ended the tale of the cat, but it does not. It ends the\nfirst part only, for Adolpho went only thus far, and the telling took\nthe whole of an evening, for there was much looping and winding in his\ntelling and he added much that had nothing to do with the tale. Indeed,\nyou should be very grateful indeed to me for trimming all the\nuninteresting stuff away. And let me tell you this: it was not at all\neasy to get Adolpho to tell the rest of the tale, and the place in which\nwe sat when we talked was not comfortable. It was no house with\nradiators and electric lights, or bathtubs and bookshelves. Indeed, the\nonly furniture that we had was a frying-pan without a handle and an iron\npot. As for our house, it looked more like a short stout bottle than a\ndwelling. For the truth is that we were careless builders and had made\nour house out of sods of earth; but while we started to build a square\nhouse, we did not take care of the corners, and the house came roundish\nand the walls leaned inward as they went higher, so we left the top open\nby way of chimney, for our fire was built in the middle of the floor.\nThus such was the shape of our house that we had to sleep curved and we\nhad to stand curved, though we rarely stood, because of the smoke, I\nassure you.\n\nAlmost three weeks passed away before Adolpho told me the rest of the\ntale and it was a cold night in June when he did. After supper he\ncommenced, perhaps because it was the kind of stew that he liked best.\nFor the most of the stew was fish. I said \u201cthe most of the stew,\u201d\nbecause our stews were different from those you have. If on Monday we\nhad a piece of huanaco meat, we put it in the iron pot to stew. There\nwould be something left over, for we always made a little more than we\nrequired and we never wasted food. So, supper being done, the iron pot\nwith the remains of the stew was put aside. Perhaps next day we might\nhave caught or shot a young goose, or something like that. Anyway,\nwhatever we caught went into the pot by way of stew. So that day there\nwould be goose stew with a flavour of huanaco. Next day we might add\ncharqui, which is dried horse-flesh, to the stew, so while the chief\nthing would be charqui, there would be a decided flavour of goose and\nmore than a trace of huanaco. But if we had fish on the fourth day, then\nof course it would be strongly fishy stew, with a kind of side taste of\ncharqui, a flavour of goose, and a mild trace of huanaco. On the whole\nit was satisfactory, for toward the end of the week any one might find\nsomething to his liking, though on Saturday we always cleaned out the\npot, as we needed it for our week\u2019s washing. And so, as I say, when we\ncame one evening to fish stew, Adolpho was in high good humour and told\nme the rest of the tale, and this is how his story ran.\n\n                              *    *    *\n\n                     _The Second Part of the Tale_\n\nNow, began Soto, you must remember all that I have told you about the\ncat bound on the mountain top, the magic ax hanging in the tree, and the\nhundreds and hundreds of years that passed, with the cat growing larger\nand larger. As the cat grew, so did the house, for the wise man had\npromised that it should be just big enough for the cat, and he kept his\nword. But you must also remember that the cat could not move, but could\ncertainly dream. So she dreamed of many lands, and the dream man was\nvery active indeed, though he vanished whenever the cat woke.\n\nWhen you come to think of it, you will see that it was a most excellent\nthing that the cat was bound, for had she not been, she would have\nworked her mischief on the world and a sheep might have been as terrible\nas a wild boar or flies as annoying as mosquitoes or horses as bold as\nwild bulls or the very fish as poisonous as serpents. While the cat did\nnot dream, of course the fox-faced man was nowhere, and then all went\nvery well and trees put out their blossoms and fruits, the grass was\nsoftly green, the rain was like silver, and gentle were the hearts of\nmen as they went about their affairs.\n\nBut there was a day on which the cat dreamed and the fox-faced fellow\nwas busy. To the place where lived the people who guarded the magic ax,\nthere came a stranger. His eyes were aslant and little, the hair of him\nwas reddish, and he was in rags and tatters and altogether dirty in\nappearance. To be sure, no one would look twice at rags and tatters, for\none coming through the forest must needs be torn by thorns and bushes in\nall that tangle, but dirt was quite another matter, especially when the\ndirt included blood stains, because in that place was much water and\nmany running streams, nor was the water chill to the skin. So, because\nof the uncleanness of the man, people looked at him with unfriendly\neyes, and though they were neither insolent nor rude they hoped that he\nwould go farther and not stay there. Nor would it have been any great\nhardship for him to do so, seeing that it was a place of much fruit and\nof many berries, and roots pleasant to the taste and full of\nnourishment. As for the night, any man might well stretch himself under\nthat star-sprinkled sky, nor except for the beasts that the cat had made\nunfriendly were there creatures to do harm. But the stranger had no\nnotion of doing anything to please the people, nor indeed could he do\nanything, seeing that he was the creature of the cat\u2019s dream, walking\nthe world.\n\nFor a time then he stood under a tree bewailing his lot and crying out\nthat all the world was against him and saying that none were kind to\nhim. Strange things he did, too, as is the manner of dream people,\nmaking himself sometimes shoot far far away so that he looked small,\nthen coming near again and getting big, or sometimes pointing his finger\nat someone, then throwing his arm round and round in great circles, the\nfinger always pointing, the circles he made growing smaller and smaller,\nlittle by little, but his finger always pointing, until it came close to\nthe watcher\u2019s eyes. The people thought this an annoying thing for a\nstranger to do; but so it was. And always he woefully wailed. So those\nthere stood about him in a little circle, none going close, but all\nwondering much at the great outcry, the like of which none there had\nheard before. Then he began to sing, noisily, wildly. This was his song:\n\n                      \u201cOver the world I walk,\n                        Alone, for ever alone.\n                      Trouble and trial and care,\n                        Alone, I bear alone.\n                      Torture and pain I bear,\n                        Alone, for ever alone.\n                      Wandering day and night,\n                        Alone, for ever alone.\n                      Sad and wretched my plight,\n                        Alone, for ever alone.\u201d\n\nThen he gave a long, long cry, like a wolf:\n\n                  \u201cA\u2014a\u2014a\u2014a\u2014a\u2014\u2014lone, Oo\u2014oo\u2014oo\u2014oo!\u201d\n\nNor did he stop at that, for his song done, he began to act stupidly,\nleaping from side to side in rage and fury, mouthing and grimacing,\nopening and closing his fists, but making no noise. Then he talked\nagain, but it was a jabber of idle words, so presently those about him\nshook their heads at one another, looking at him as one who had lost his\nwits, never thinking of course that he was a cat\u2019s dream.\n\nWhile all this was going on, there came from the little lake where he\nhad been fishing a lad named Nasca, bearing a basket of fish, a happy\nfellow who always made music and song as he walked, and seeing the\npeople gathered about the stranger he drew near. No sooner did the\nstranger clap eyes on the fish than he leaped at the basket and began\ndevouring the silvery things, eating them raw, heads, bodies, and tails,\nfor thus ran the cat\u2019s dream and cattishness must out. But the meal\nbeing done, the stranger redoubled his lamentations, all the time\nswinging his arm in circles, sometimes great, sometimes small, with his\nfinger pointed at the boy.\n\n\u201cA\u2014a\u2014a\u2014a\u2014a\u2014\u2014lone, Oo\u2014oo\u2014oo\u2014oo!\u201d he screamed, and the boy\nthought that such a fellow well deserved to be alone, but he was too\npolite to say so.\n\n\u201cI am hungry and travel-worn,\u201d the stranger went on. \u201cIs there no one\nhere who will give me shelter? Is there no one in this place with a kind\nheart to pity me?\u201d\n\nHearing that, the heart of Nasca was touched, for never had he, nor\nnever had his grandmother with whom he lived, turned a hungry creature\naway empty. Indeed, so gentle in spirit was Nasca that if the stem of a\nflower was broken by a heedless creature he was full of grief. Yet the\ndoings of the stranger astonished him and troubled him, for the man\nwithout seeming to move his feet thrust his face close to the boy\u2019s,\nthen somehow took his face far off. That silly trick he did again and\nagain as dream creatures do, so that seeing him Nasca was well nigh made\ndizzy. Then the lad, blushing red as fire because of all the people\nthereabouts who did not offer what he offered, said:\n\n\u201cCome home, then, with me. Our house is small but there is room enough.\nBelieve me, it is not that these people are hard-hearted that they do\nnot seem to welcome you, but more because you must have been too weary\nwith walking to wash yourself. But behind the hill and under a tree near\nwhere we live is a still pool, and there doubtless you will clean\nyourself.\u201d\n\nThen Nasca led the way and the stranger went with him, yet not walking,\nbut leaping up and down as he went, and sometimes not touching the\nground at all. Nasca was not comfortable with the stranger by his side,\nfor he felt him to be more like a shadow than a man, and a shadow that\nhung over him and tormented him, a shadow that might pounce upon him.\n\nHaving come to the place where his grandmother was, Nasca was sorely\ntroubled to see the old woman fall to trembling when she heard the voice\nof the stranger, who was making an idle jabber of words again. Indeed,\nafter a time she put her hands to her face and wept, though that was\nafter the man having eaten had left the place to rest under a tree.\nNasca comforted her as best he could, then asked her to tell him the\ncause of her grief. Be it remembered that she was very, very old and her\neyes were weak and dim with age.\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d she said, taking Nasca\u2019s hand, \u201chas this man eyes aslant,\nlike the eyes of a fox?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed and he has,\u201d answered Nasca. Then his heart bade him say some\ngood of the fellow, and he added: \u201cYet no man makes his own face,\nwherefore must some be pitied.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me,\u201d said the grandmother eagerly, \u201chas he sharp teeth like a\ncat?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat he has,\u201d said Nasca, then wondering, asked: \u201cHave you seen this\nman, then, when your eyes were bright and strong?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, Nasca,\u201d she answered, \u201cnever have I set eyes on him, yet I greatly\nfear him; and long, long ago I heard stories about such a creature and\nit was said that much evil he wrought, yet none could slay him.\u201d She was\nsilent for a little, then again she asked this: \u201cDid you see his ears,\nNasca, and are they pointed, like those of a fox?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Nasca.\n\nAt that answer the old woman was sad again and Nasca had to comfort her\nwith sweet words, telling her that she should come to no hurt, since he\nwas there, for he would die defending her.\n\n\u201cThat I know, Nasca,\u201d she said. \u201cIf the hurt came to me alone, glad\nwould I be, for I have seen my golden days and now there is little left\nfor me but the brief sunset hour. But I fear for others. Of such a\ncreature I have heard it said that he comes from nowhere and goes into\nnothing, but somehow looses evil upon men. Because of that I fear. So,\nNasca, promise me that if this man asks anything of you, you will do\nnothing that promises hurt to any living thing.\u201d\n\nThat Nasca promised gladly enough, then said: \u201cYet it may be that this\nman is not the evil creature you have heard of. It may well be some\nunfortunate whose wits are loose. True, his face is far from pleasant to\nsee, but a rough face may go with a good heart, and a man\u2019s face may\nchange.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, with wickedness,\u201d said the old woman, \u201cbut in truth it has been\nsaid that a man\u2019s face and his character both go with him to the grave,\nif indeed there is any grave for such as this.\u201d\n\n                                   II\n\nNow all that talk Nasca remembered well the next day when a strange\nthing happened. For the stranger went about among the people, asking\nthis one and that what he most desired. But there were none to make a\nwish for a time, because life there was pleasant and easy and the\npossessions of men were few, so all that the stranger said went for\nnothing. Then, as it chanced, there came one of the people a little put\nout because he had lost sleep that morning. He was a man much given to\nrest and slumber, a slow and heavy man, and that morning he had been\nawakened by the singing of the birds. To make matters worse, going away\nfrom the place where he had lain, in too great a hurry, he chanced to\nscratch himself on some thorns. So, taking it all in all, his humour was\nnot a pleasant one; yet had it not been for the stranger, he might have\nforgotten his troubles. As it was, he heard the stranger\u2019s speech and\nthe offer to grant any wish, so he spoke without considering his words.\n\n\u201cIf you grant wishes, there is one that I would have,\u201d he said, nodding\nto his friends in the manner of one who had a matter of weight to tell\nof.\n\n\u201cSay it,\u201d said the stranger, and he grinned queerly so that his lip went\nup and his tusky teeth shone yellow.\n\n\u201cThis morning I was disturbed by birds and scratched by thorns, so I\nwish that nothing might come near me to disturb me in the future.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you wish,\u201d said the stranger, and gabbled what seemed to be idle and\nmeaningless words.\n\nThen a strange thing happened, for as the man who had made the wish\nstood looking at the stranger, his mouth wide open, all living things\nabout him suddenly fell away. Within the stretch of a man\u2019s arm from him\nthe grass yellowed and died, and the flowers shrank and withered, and a\nbutterfly that fluttered over him fell to earth, dead. And the people\ncried out, seeing that, but soon it became clear that not even sounds\ncould come within that magic circle. The air bore no noise to the\ncharmed man, not even the sweet noise of the songs of birds nor the\nchirping of insects, and the man was, in very truth, in such case that\nnothing could be nigh him to disturb him. Indeed, as he moved, all\nthings died within the stretch of his arms, seeing which his friends\nfled from him, all fearful of his nearness. Afraid of his loneliness the\nman walked to a tree, but no sooner did he touch it than the very leaves\nfolded themselves and turned black, then dropped off and fluttered down,\nso that the arms of the good tree stood skeleton-bare against the sky.\nAt that all hope in the man was gone and he turned and fled into the\nforest, a space opening before him as he ran, a track of death\neverywhere behind him.\n\nNasca saw all that, and his grandmother\u2019s fears came to his mind.\nIndeed, he told many there of what the old woman had said, but some of\nthem held that the stranger had but granted the wisher his wish, and if\nthere was fault in the matter the fault lay with the wisher, not with\nthe granter of the wish. As for the grandmother, when she heard the tale\nshe was in great trouble and threw herself on the ground weeping, and\nthough Nasca did what he could to comfort her, yet she wept and wept.\n\n\u201cNasca,\u201d she said presently, \u201csurely we must do what we can to rid the\nplace of this fearful creature. For it is as I thought, and he is a\nblack-hearted thing, not of this world of men, and one who will\nassuredly bring hate and fear and trouble. Find, then, if there is any\nmeans by which he may be made to go away, even to the point of helping\nhim, if need be, but see to it that you think not of yourself and your\nown gain, and see to it that anything that you do at his request will\nbring no harm to any living creature, even the smallest.\u201d\n\nAll this Nasca promised, and in the early dawn of the next day went up\nto the hills to see the sun rise, as indeed did all brave and strong men\nand fair maidens in that place. Then he swam a little while, and ate\nsome fruit and thought a while, and after sought out the stranger.\n\n\u201cStranger,\u201d said he, \u201cbe it known to you that there are many here who\nfear your presence among us and who would be glad to see you gone from\nhere.\u201d\n\n\u201cHo! Ho! What bold words are these I hear?\u201d roared fox-face, full of\nwrath at Nasca\u2019s words.\n\n\u201cI speak but the truth,\u201d said the lad boldly enough, though his heart\nbeat against his ribs. \u201cTell me, then, what can be done so that you may\nbe persuaded to leave us.\u201d\n\nFox-face thought awhile, then he said: \u201cOn a far mountain is a gentle\ncreature bound with a magic thread which no man\u2019s hand can break. Yet\nmagic fights magic, and the magic ax can sever the thread. Also, at the\nmoment the thread is cut, so will the man who is prisoned in air be\nfree, but not before. Now the bound creature is my companion and no\nfierce thing at all. Come with me, Nasca, bringing the magic ax, and\nwhen you have seen the cat, then perchance shall the spell be broken.\u201d\n\nAll of that seeming fair to Nasca, he went to the tree where hung the\nmagic ax, though he had much ado to climb through the tangle all about\nthe tree, for no man had been there for many a year. He took the ax and\nfastened it well in his sash, and returned to the side of the stranger.\nThen fox-face took a mat made of feathers of the night owl and the hair\nof the skunk, and spread it on the ground, but it was so small that\nthere was scarce place for Nasca and the man too, so the lad cut it with\nthe magic ax and there were two mats, which was more to Nasca\u2019s taste,\nfor he had no liking to stand on the mat and hold on to fox-face. No\nsooner had they taken their places on the mats than they rose in the\nair, and in a swift moment both of them were so high that the country\nlay spread at their feet with trees like grass and with rivers that\nlooked like silver threads. Nor could the swiftest condor move with the\nspeed with which they flew through the air. So at last they came to a\nplace where everywhere were bare rocks and hard stone, with no blade of\ngrass to be seen, and it was a place among mountain peaks, with stony\nridge rising above stony ridge, and on a mountain peak the two rested.\n\n\u201cNow look away to the far hill,\u201d said the stranger, and while the place\nto which he pointed was very far off, yet because of the clearness of\nthe air it seemed but a short distance away. Looking steadily Nasca saw\nthe three great rocks, for they were tremendously grown now, after so\nmany hundreds of years, but to Nasca they seemed no higher than a man\u2019s\nknee, and sitting under them was the cat.\n\n\u201cThat is the companion I seek,\u201d said fox-face. \u201cBy magic she is bound\nand by magic only can she be loosed, and I promise you that if you will\nbut loose her I shall be seen no more in your land.\u201d\n\n\u201cFair enough,\u201d said Nasca. \u201cBut I must be assured of a return to my own\nplace, for it is far from home on these hills.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is well enough,\u201d answered fox-face. \u201cHave you not your flying mat?\nThough to be sure, as soon as you take your foot from it it will\nvanish.\u201d\n\nNasca thought for a little while, and the more he thought the more it\nseemed to him to be a good thing and not an evil to loose the cat, so he\nasked the stranger to show him the bond that held her. At that fox-face\npointed, and there almost at his feet Nasca beheld a slender thread,\nlike a hair, that ran this way and that as far as the eye could see. So\nwith a blow of the magic ax he cut the thread, and there was a noise\nlike thunder and the thread ends slid away like swift snakes. Nor did\nthe stranger play Nasca false, for in a flash he found himself back\nagain at the foot of the tree where the magic ax had hung, and so\nswiftly had the journey been made that a man who had stooped to fill his\ncalabash at a pool when Nasca left, was even then straightening himself\nto go away, his calabash being filled. As for the fox-faced stranger, no\none ever saw him again, for the cat being awakened, her dream had ended.\nAnd at the moment when the thread was cut, the man who had been bound in\nair came back again, his enchantment finished, and the things that had\ndied about him, because of invisible forces, sprang to life again.\n\nBut what of the cat? For Nasca little thought that he had loosed a\nfearful thing on the world, a frightful form of giant mould of a size\nbigger than a bull. Nor did he know until one evening, as he sat by the\nfire, it being chill in that high place at times, he turned his head as\nthe robe that hung at the door bulged into the house. He looked to see\nhis grandmother, but instead a great cat filled the doorway, a cat with\ngreen eyes, each the size of an egg. Indeed so great was the cat that it\nhad to crouch low to enter. And when within, the room was filled with\nit, a sight that made the heart of Nasca stand still. A gloomy terror it\nwas, and most fiendish was the look that it gave the lad. But Nasca,\nthough terror-stricken, yet showed no sign of fear. Instead, he made\nroom for the cat by the fire as though he saw cats like that every day.\nSo the cat sat by the fire and close to Nasca, sometimes looking at the\nblaze without winking, sometimes turning its great head to look for long\nand long at the boy. Once Nasca stood up, saying that he would go\noutside and bring in more wood for the fire, privately thinking to get\nout of the place in safety, but the great paw of the cat shot out with\nclaws that looked like reaping hooks, whereupon Nasca sat down again\nsaying that, after all, the fire would live awhile. But he thought and\nthought and the cat looked and looked, and the place was as still and\nquiet as a midnight pool.\n\nPresently Nasca found heart to say something.\n\n\u201cIf you want to stay here and rest,\u201d he said to the cat, \u201cI shall go\naway.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must not go away,\u201d said the cat in a soft voice, stretching out one\nof her paws with the cruel claws showing a little.\n\nAfter that a long time passed and the fire flamed only a little, and the\nshadow of the cat was big and black on the wall, and Nasca thought and\nthought and the cat looked and looked. Then the firelight danced and the\nbig black shadow seemed to leap and then grow small, and the cat\u2019s eyes\nwere full of a cold fire as they rested on Nasca.\n\nThen suddenly Nasca broke into a laugh, though, to be sure, the laugh\ndid not come from his heart.\n\n\u201cWhy do you laugh?\u201d said the cat.\n\n\u201cBecause you are so big and I am so little, but for all that I can run\nten times faster than you,\u201d answered Nasca, and his words sounded bold\nenough. He added: \u201cAll living creatures would agree in that.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is nonsense,\u201d said the cat, her jealousy at once aroused. \u201cI am\nthe fastest creature on earth. I can leap over mountains and I take\nrivers at a step.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt does not matter what you can do,\u201d said Nasca, growing bolder every\nsecond. \u201cLet me tell you this: While a man stooped to fill his calabash,\nI went from this place to a far mountain, cut the thread that bound you,\nand returned before the man with the calabash had straightened himself,\nand if you do not believe it, I will bring the man.\u201d\n\nNasca said all this with some idea of getting an excuse to go from\nthere, but the words struck deep and the cat wondered.\n\n\u201cWhy did you loose me?\u201d asked the cat.\n\n\u201cBecause I wanted to run a race with you,\u201d answered Nasca.\n\n\u201cIf we run a race it must be for a wager,\u201d said the cat. \u201cIf you lose I\nmake a meal of you. Is it agreed?\u201d\n\n\u201cFairly spoken,\u201d said Nasca, \u201cthough to be sure if you lose I make no\nmeal of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us run to-morrow then,\u201d said Nasca. \u201cAnd I shall sleep well under\nthe tree and be fresh in the morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so,\u201d said the cat. \u201cIf we run, we run at midnight and under the\ncold white moon.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo be it,\u201d answered Nasca. \u201cWhere shall we run?\u201d\n\n\u201cAcross the mountains and back again, seven times,\u201d said the cat,\nchoosing the highlands, because she knew that she could leap over hills\nand ca\u00f1ons, while Nasca would have to climb up and down, and choosing\nnight because she could see better in the dark than Nasca. For the cat\nwas very wise. But Nasca on his part thought of little more than getting\naway from the cat for a while. So he told the cat that he would bring a\nbasket of fish for her supper, which he did, and while the cat ate he\nwent outside and sought his grandmother.\n\nThe wise old woman laughed when she heard the story. \u201cTo a cat her\ncattishness,\u201d she said, \u201cbut to a woman her wit. All falls out well\nenough. Haste, run and bring me the magic ax.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut no,\u201d said Nasca. \u201cTo use that would but make two terrible cats, and\none is more than enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cHeed me, Nasca, and bring the ax,\u201d she repeated.\n\nAt that the boy ran swiftly and brought the ax.\n\n\u201cNow stand, Nasca, and fear not,\u201d said the old woman, and lifted the ax.\nSo the lad stood, closing his eyes when he saw her raise the ax to\nstrike.\n\nThen with a swift blow she brought the weapon down on Nasca\u2019s head,\ncutting him in two, and in a moment there stood before her two Nascas,\neach as like the other as one blade of grass is like another. Surely and\nwell had the ax done its work. One Nasca was as shapely as the other,\none as fair-skinned as the other.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d said the old woman, \u201chappy was I with one Nasca, so doubly happy\nshall I be with two. So stay you here, Nasca the first, and Nasca the\nsecond must come with me. Oh, a merry world and a glad will it be now,\nsince joy and gladness are doubled.\u201d\n\nAt that she remembered that she had told neither lad anything, in her\ndelight, so she turned again to the first Nasca.\n\n\u201cWait here for the great cat,\u201d she said. \u201cGo with her to the great ca\u00f1on\nwhere the race must start, and when the cat makes to leap across, which\nshe will do, do you climb down a little way, then hide yourself until\nthe cat returns. Doubtless we shall be able to manage matters at the\nother end. But see to it that you chide the cat for her slowness when\nshe returns after the first run, and we shall see what we shall see.\u201d\n\nHaving said that, the old woman set off with Nasca the second, walking\nbravely over the ridges and hills that rose one behind the other like\nthe waves of the sea. And when they had come to a far place where the\nmountain dropped down like a great stone wall to a fearful depth, they\nsat them down to wait, Nasca the second being in plain sight, the old\nwoman hiding behind a rock.\n\nBut as soon as the moon rose the great cat walked to where Nasca the\nfirst stood, her eyes glaring terribly and her hair all a-bristle. So\nhorrible a sight was she that for a moment Nasca went deadly pale, but\nhe spoke boldly enough, nevertheless, for the brave one is not he that\ndoes not fear, but rather he that fears and yet does the thing that he\nhas set out to do.\n\n\u201cOne thing,\u201d said Nasca to the cat. \u201cIs it right that you should leap\nover the ca\u00f1on, going from one side to the other like a bird, while I\nmust climb down and then up again? Let us make things fairer in the\nrace, and do you climb down and up the other side with me.\u201d But all this\nhe said in a kind of spirit of mischief, knowing full well that the cat\nwould give him no chance at all.\n\n\u201cHa! What is to do now?\u201d said the cat with a hiss and a sneer. \u201cDoes\nyour heart fail you already? Are you terror-tormented at the start? A\nfine racer, you, indeed! No, no, my fine lad. We race for a supper and\nyou must supply the meal.\u201d\n\nTo that Nasca answered nothing, so there was a little silence, broken\nonly by the hooting of the owl who was, indeed, trying to tell the cat\nthe truth of matters. But the cat was too full of her own notions and\nhad no ear for others. She lay crouched on the ground, ready to make a\nspring, and Nasca wondered whether her jump would be at him or across\nthe ca\u00f1on. Suddenly, in a voice like thunder, the cat called: \u201cSTART!\u201d\nand at the word, leaped across the valley and was off and away, without\nas much as giving a glance at the lad. But he made a great deal of fuss\non his part, climbing down the face of the ca\u00f1on wall. The cat, on\nlanding on the other side, looked back, then gave a cry of triumph,\nseeing the poor start that Nasca had made. \u201cCome on! Come on!\u201d she\ncalled. \u201cThe run will sharpen my appetite,\u201d and even as she said that,\nshe was a distance off, then bounding away up hill and down hill, over\nthe ridges, over the rocks, over the streams, taking a hundred yards at\na bound. So in a very short space of time she came to the place where\nNasca the second stood, and was mightily astonished to see her opponent,\nas she thought, there before her.\n\n\u201cToo easy, se\u00f1ora cat, too easy,\u201d said Nasca the second, speaking as the\ngrandmother bade him. \u201cI thought cats were swifter. Doubtless you play,\nthough.\u201d\n\nHearing that speech the cat was full of anger and in a voice that shook\nthe mountains, she roared: \u201cBACK! BACK AGAIN! I\u2019ll show you.\u201d\n\nOff ran Nasca the second then, but the cat passed him like lightning,\nher very whiskers streaming behind, and as soon as she was over the\nfirst hill the lad went back to the place where his grandmother was.\nSe\u00f1ora cat knew nothing of that, though, and went bounding as before,\ntearing up hill and down hill, over the ridges, over the rocks, over the\nstreams, taking two hundred yards at a leap, and at last came to the\nplace of beginning, to behold Nasca, who stood smiling and wiping his\nbrow lightly, as if he had been running.\n\n\u201cMuch better, se\u00f1ora cat,\u201d he said. \u201cYou almost caught me that time. A\nlittle faster and you would have won. But still I have more speed in me\nto let loose. Come on.\u201d\n\nNo sooner were the words out of his mouth than he started off, making as\nthough to climb down the ca\u00f1on wall, and the cat gave a screech that\nshook the very skies and made the pale moon quiver. So fast she went\nthat the very trees and bushes that she passed were scorched, and as for\nthe rocks over which she flew, they were melted by the heat of the air.\nEvery leap that she took was four hundred yards. Up hill and down hill\nshe went, over the ridges, over the rocks, over the streams, and so at\nlast she came once more to where the second Nasca stood.\n\n\u201cA good run that, se\u00f1ora cat,\u201d he said. \u201cI think that we shall finish\nthe race soon and in a way that I may live and be happy, though for me\nyou must go supperless. Certainly I must try, for to lose will profit me\nnothing.\u201d\n\nBut the cat was at her wits\u2019 end, supposing that Nasca ran faster than\nshe. She opened her mouth to shriek, but fast upon her came a great\nfeebleness, and she faltered and reeled and then fell down in a faint,\nseeing nothing at all. No time then did the second Nasca and the old\nwoman lose. Putting themselves to the task, they rolled the cat to the\nedge of the great rock wall that ran down straight. Then after a pause\nto gain breath they gave another push, and the body of the giant cat\nfell over the edge and was broken to pieces on the sharp rocks below. So\nthat was the end of the cat and the end of her dreams.\n\nThe two Nascas and the old woman went to their own place and told the\npeople all that had happened, so there was great rejoicing, and laughter\nand song and weaving of garlands, and everybody was happy. And ever\nsince there has been kindness and good fellowship in that land. And for\nthose who would see signs of the tale there stand the three great rocks\non the highlands, each so heavy that two hundred men could not lift\nthem, and wise men wonder much what manner of men put them there. But\nonly those who are not wise and learned know the truth of the matter, as\nyou may test for yourself by asking any very wise men who come to visit\nyou.\n\n                                THE END\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                           TRANSCRIBER NOTES\n\nMisspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple\nspellings occur, majority use has been employed.\n\nPunctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors\noccur.\n\nSome illustrations were moved to facilitate page layout.","title":"Tales from silver lands","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":60154}