We know no care, we know no strife;
We dance, we sing, and merrily play
The long night through; and then by day
We work, we delve in the ground below,
And make Earth’s fountains merrily flow.
We feed the fires, till the cold streams boil;
We spare no trouble, we spare no toil,
We make the dark pools bubble and hiss,
Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,
With a roar, and a whirr, and a rush so high,
That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky,
Then fall with a soft tra la la! tra la la!
And we laugh as they fall, ha, ha! ha, ha!”
Then all the little gnomes, headed by Red Cap, their leader, jumped with
merry shouts and laughter into the clear warm pool near by.
The children watched them for awhile, then Cis wandered off, picking up
bits of petrified ferns and sticks out of a hot bubbling pool, and choice
pieces of yellow sulphur, which, when broken off the steaming ground,
showed myriads of sparkling crystals, and kind Santa Claus packed all her
treasures in soft moss in a bag which he carried on his back.
Meanwhile, Hal envied the merry bathers, and as they called out to him to
“come, too,” he quickly threw off his clothes and jumped into the little
lake.
How glorious it was! The hot bubbling waters, the clear crystal depths,
and the sides and floor of the bath yielding to the touch, as though
padded with velvet! Was ever such a bath enjoyed before? Shouting and
singing, the little gnomes seized Hal and popped him over the edge of the
basin, and plump he fell into a stream of cold water on the other side.
What a big breath he pulled at first, and then, how delicious the glow
and the dive into the clear depths! What a good swim Hal had up the cold
stream, racing the little gnomes who spluttered and splashed after him!
Then back they all went into the blue lake, revelling in the tingling
warmth. Again, out of that into another bath close by, where countless
crystal bubbles rose from the soft sandy floor, playing round the
bathers like the dancing bubbles of sparkling wine.
But Hal heard Santa Claus calling to him to make haste, and he
reluctantly jumped out, and flinging on his clothes, shouted to the
gnomes, “I’ll come here for my Saturday-night tub, if you don’t mind;
it’s awfully jolly.”
“All right,” answered the gnomes, running after Hal, who by this time had
joined Cis and Santa Claus.
“Won’t you all come and have breakfast with us?” asked Red Cap.
“Well, I am rather hungry, and I expect Cis is, too. But what have you
got for breakfast, Mr. Red Cap?”
“Porridge, to be sure. Didn’t you know we were hard-working Scotch boys?
Who else would work as hard, or get as much out of the earth as we do?”
answered a gnome in a huffed tone.
“I don’t know, I’m sure; but please don’t be offended,” replied Hal,
“we’ll eat some porridge with pleasure.—or _try_ to,” he added in a low
voice, for he did not care for porridge at home.
Red Cap led the way to where in the earth was the porridge-pot—a large
hole full of boiling cream-coloured porridge, that hissed, and bubbled,
and looked tempting enough. Cis and Hal, following the example of their
guide, dipped sticks into it, and tasted the smooth paste, and what
grimaces they both made, which they tried not to let Red Cap see! For the
porridge was anything but pleasant, being like a mixture of rotten eggs
and alum.
“Isn’t it good?” asked Red Cap, smacking his lips over it.
“Well,” said Cis, who wished to be polite, “it certainly is well boiled,
and it is not at all lumpy, but—isn’t it ra—ther—earthy?”
Then, seeing the gnome’s disappointed face, she added, “But never mind,
we’re trying to enjoy it; but I expect you have to be brought up to it,
Mr. Red Cap, really to like it.”
“We’ll come for our next picnic here, and bring some tea for you,” said
Hal, trying to make friends with Red Cap, “and perhaps you’ll boil the
kettle for us—no, I mean, give us the water already boiled. I’m afraid
it will smell and taste of rotten eggs, but that can’t be helped,” added
Hal, in a low voice, to little Cis, sniffing the sulphurous fumes rising
from the boiling cauldrons on all sides.
Santa Claus and the children now walked on, and Cis and Hal, getting
accustomed to the strange scenes around, began to feel quite brave.
“There are not many birds here, Mr. Santa Claus,” said Cis, for they
had only seen a few blight-birds flitting about; only the two little
robins had come part of the way with her into the valley, then they had
twittered their good-bye, and Cis missed her little feathered friends.
“See,” replied Santa Claus, and there amid the feathery manuka was an
open space covered with layers of creamy-coloured stone, and in the
centre was what looked like a huge bird’s nest,[15] formed of large
white stems and branches crossed and recrossed, and pieces of petrified
moss between. Each little twig was heavily laden with drops, apparently
frozen, some thick as milk, some clear as crystal, while round and
overhead the bushes too were white as snow.
“How beautiful!” cried Hal.
“But where is the bird, Mr. Santa Claus?” asked little Cis, “and what a
big one it must be to make that nest!”
“Wait a little, and if you do not see the bird you shall hear him sing,”
laughed Santa Claus.
The children stood silently waiting. Soon a low rumbling was heard below
their feet, followed by hissing and bubbling noises that grew nearer and
nearer, then died away, to begin again, louder, nearer than before, and
making Cis creep up close to her brother and Santa Claus. Awe-struck, the
children watched, and soon from the middle of the nest they saw bubbling
waters that came and went in fitful gushes, as though battling against
some unseen power below,—then roaring, fighting, boiling, a mighty column
shot up high into the air above their heads, and clouds of steam rolled
around, hiding for a little while the trees, and even the children, in
a misty veil.[16] How beautiful the clear drops of the mighty fountain
looked, as the water’s rose and fell, shining like dancing diamonds in
the dawning light! Then out from their holes came the gnomes, singing
again their merry song.
[Illustration: The Merry Song of the Gnomes.
We feed the fires till the cold streams boil,
We spare no trouble we spare no toil:
We make the dark pools bubble and hiss
Till the waters leap up the trees to kiss,
With a roar, and a whirr and a rush so high
That the bright drops sparkle and dance in the sky
Then fall with a soft tra la la la! tra la la la!
And we laugh as they fall. Ha ha! ha ha!]
Then they danced around the roaring geyser, till the waters fell lower
and lower, and amid sobs and sighs died away in the deep dark hole, and
all was still and silent as before in the mysterious bird’s nest.
Without waiting to hear the children’s wondering remarks, Santa Claus
took them by the hand, and they seemed to pass quickly over a large
tract of country, until they came to a creek, which they soon saw from
its steaming sides was hot, and which ran into a lake lying quiet and
peaceful;—only the pukekos[17] rose now and again, screeching from the
reedy shallows. Pushing their way through thick scrub, and walking with
great care between bubbling cauldrons and deep holes from which steam
belched forth with a mighty roar and thud, Hal found it difficult to
carry the Star of Love safely, and asked Santa Claus what he should do
with it.
“Hold it high overhead, and then stop for a minute and watch,” replied
Santa Claus, and, doing as he was bid, Hal was astonished to see the Star
float away into the pale grey sky, becoming fainter and fainter, till it
disappeared in the misty dawn.
“You have carried it so long with care,” said Santa Claus, “that by day,
though unseen, it will ever shine to guide you, and at night, though
passing clouds may sometimes hide it, if you look for it, you will soon
find it again.”
“I shall look for it, Mr. Santa Claus,” said little Cis; “I often see the
stars shining in at my window when I am in bed, and I shall ask God not
to let the angels forget to light that beautiful one for me to see.”
As little Cis finished speaking, their old friend Red Cap appeared on the
path before them.
“Where did you come from?” cried Hal, “we left you at the bird’s nest.”
“Yes,” answered Red Cap, “but we gnomes do not follow the paths you
mortals tread, but have many and hidden passages under the earth, and
many underground streams by which we pass quickly from south to north.
So, here I am, you see, and now I am going to show you the realm of the
King and Queen of the Gnomes.”
“That _will_ be jolly!” cried Hal.
“Will it take very long, Mr. Red Cap?” asked Cis. “I have been thinking
of mother, and she will want me back soon, I am sure.” And the child’s
face grew thoughtful, and her large eyes looked sad and wistful.
“You shall be back for breakfast on Christmas morning, I promise you,
little Cis,” said Santa Claus; “Mother will not expect you before then.
I am going to leave you a little while with Red Cap now, for I have some
other children expecting me before the sun is up; but I will meet you
after you have seen where the King and Queen of the Gnomes live.”
“You will not forget us, Mr. Santa Claus, will you?” asked Cis, “because
we could never get home without you.”
“No fear of that, little one, I never fail the children who believe in
me,” and so saying he disappeared from their sight. Hal called out,—
“Good-bye, old fellow, I hope you’ll make haste back,” and then, taking
Cis’s hand, for he thought she was a little timid, he followed Red Cap
until they came to the end of the thick bushes. “Look,” said Red Cap,
“this is the dwelling place of our King and Queen.” Beautiful indeed
was the sight that met their gaze; from the edge of the lake, tier upon
tier of milky white terraces[18] sloped upwards to a great height, and
over them fell a glistening veil of water which filled the air with its
rippling song as it sought the placid lake below.
“Oh! let us paddle,” said Hal to Cis, and no sooner was it said than
done, and how delightful was the soft, warm water trickling over their
feet!
The children then followed as Red Cap led the way from tier to tier,
looking into the numberless marble baths of all shapes and sizes that
they passed, filled with coloured waters, clear and inviting, pale blue
and green—the sides of the baths edged with fantastic wreaths and carved
alabaster fringe, from the countless points of which overflowing drops
fell with a soft musical sound.
How dazzling was the milky white floor as they stepped upwards and looked
down on the stretching terraces gemmed with their glistening pools!
Truly it was wonderland! A fit dwelling-place for the King and Queen; a
fit scene for the midnight revels of Gnomes and Fays! Hal and Cis found
many a little petrified treasure as they lingered here and there,—twigs
and bits of moss and fern, and even insects white and glistening as the
terrace itself.
“Oh! see, Mr. Red Cap,” called out little Cis, picking up what looked
like a perfect white dragonfly, “what has happened to the poor
dragonfly!” and she held it in her hand tenderly.
“That is the way the gnomes punish any insect that comes near where our
King and Queen live,” answered Red Cap; “the singing waters lure them in,
and then turn them to stone itself.”
“Poor things,” said little Cis, “how hard-hearted the pretty waters must
be, and they look so soft and nice.”
“That is often the way with things,” remarked Red Cap; “at least so I’ve
heard it said.”
As they came near the topmost tier of baths, the water became hotter and
hotter, and there, in a gorge of the hill side, with the feathery manuka
to its very edge, was a huge cauldron of opal-coloured steaming water.
Side by side, with timid steps, the children went close to the edge, and,
looking down, saw what Red Cap told them was the entrance to the King’s
palace.
Clusters of white pillars rose in stately grandeur, surrounded with
carved wreaths of leaves and flowers, looking as if formed of frozen snow
in the blue waters; forests of ferns hung their delicate stone fronds in
the shadowy depths; quaint shaped mushrooms and coral-like bushes grew
here and there ’mid heavily fringed leaves of many a strange shape.
“Oh! may we go down there?” asked Hal.
“No,” replied Red Cap, “it would be death to mortals to go there; even
fairies cannot enter; but they are allowed to bathe in the pools, or to
dance with the gnomes on moonlight nights, when our King and Queen hold
their court. Only the gnomes can enter the palace halls below the pool,
and many strange sights and sounds are there, and it is hard work there
for the gnomes, I can tell you. See,” went on Red Cap, “the King and
Queen are away just now, and the gnomes are busy cleaning out the palace,
and soon they will make the big fountain play, and fill the terrace baths
afresh.”
“Where have the King and Queen gone?” asked Hal, “and shan’t we see them?”
“I think not to-night,” said Red Cap, “for they have gone to their summer
palace over there,” and he pointed to the other side of the lake, where
the children saw another terraced realm even more beautiful than the one
they were on, being of a pale pink colour, like the tender flush of a
warm sunset upon beds of snow, and over all the falling waters danced and
gleamed.
“Are there as beautiful bathing places over there too?” asked Hal.
“Yes,” said Red Cap, “and there is a large bath with soft downy sides and
floor in which mortals sometimes bathe. But they are seldom allowed to
see into the depths of the huge cauldron at the top of this pink terrace,
for, by the order of the King, soft clouds of steam cover it, which are
rarely lifted. Some favoured ones who have looked into the boiling depths
say the forests and beauteous flowery forms there are even more wonderful
than those you see here at the entrance of the Winter Palace.”
“Oh! look!” cried Hal excitedly to Cis just as Red Cap ceased speaking;
then, out of numberless small caves in the blue cauldron at their feet
jumped hundreds of little black gnomes, having thick coats made out of
sulphur cakes, and on their heads milky white helmets. Up from the blue
waters they sprang, capering with wild delight round the edges of the
cauldron and the numberless basins of the white terraces below, shouting,
laughing, and then bursting ever and anon into wild chorus.
“’Tis done! ’tis done! our labour is o’er,
We’ve cleaned each hall, and polished each floor.
We’ve made the matches, and lighted the fires
The engines to start as our King desires;
List to the hammers that thump and bang,
To the piston’s thud and the anvil’s clang.
Hurrah! hurrah! for the rumble and rush,
The boiling pools that bubble and gush,
Then upwards burst, and the steam clouds rise
To join their brethren that float in the skies.
Now the fountains play o’er the palace halls,
And the rainbow-arch o’er the portal falls,
Hark to the din! and hark to the roar!
’Tis done, ’tis done; our labour is o’er.”
And the children and Red Cap saw the water in the big cauldron begin to
bubble at the bottom, and then rise rapidly higher and higher.
“Run to the hill!” cried Red Cap.
Hal and Cis needed no second bidding, but ran down the terrace and then
climbed up the hill-side as quickly as they could with their bare feet,
and from the midst of the bushes watched the big geyser shoot up into the
sky with a terrific roar.
Soon the cauldron overflowed in tossing wavelets that swept downwards
from terrace to terrace, filling to overflowing the countless baths on
the way, and forming one beautiful sparkling cascade—in many parts blue
as the sky overhead—from the top to the lake below, which was itself blue
as a summer sky.
The gnomes, perching on the bushes and flax clumps round, nodded their
heads approvingly, and sang:—
“The cascade falls o’er each marble lip,
Where at night the fairies merrily trip,
As the rippling waters rise and fall,
We join their dance on a gleaming wall,
Or climbing high on the moon’s bright rays,
We sing till the sun on the terrace plays,
Then hide again in our holes and caves,
Where our tired feet the water laves,
And we watch poor mortals come and go,
They see not the fun we have below.
Oh! what tricks we play! They know not why
The geysers gush, and the steam-clouds fly:
As they hear us chuckle and laugh, ha! ha!
They say, ’tis the water’s song, tra la la!
Hurrah! for the fun in our hidden homes,
Hurrah! for the life of the merry gnomes!”
[Illustration: “Run to the hill!” cried Red Cap.]
And down the funny little fellows jumped and rushed laughing into the
delicately fringed caves beneath the marble baths.
“What jolly little boys they are,” said Hal, “and what a good time they
seem to be having!”
“Yes,” replied Red Cap, “they all _seem_ happy; but I am sorry to say
there are a lot of discontented ones below, and I should not wonder if
they strike one day; and if so, the passages will get clogged, and there
will be a grand blow up, and I don’t know what will happen to our King
and Queen and their beautiful fairy realms,”[19] and Red Cap heaved a
deep sigh. “But we must go now,” added he.
The children ran down to where they had left their shoes and stockings,
and putting them on, followed their guide to the creek.
There in the reeds, close to the bank, they found a canoe; it had pointed
ends, and was hollowed out of a large tree trunk, and the bottom was
covered with the small leafy twigs of the manuka.
“Get in, children,” said Red Cap.
“There are no seats,” said little Cis.
“Never mind,” answered Red Cap; “sit quite still on the bottom, and hold
tightly to the sides.”
So Hal helped Cis in carefully, for it seemed as if very little would
upset the canoe, and Red Cap, taking up a paddle, pushed out into the
stream.
Then, how quickly they floated along on the rapidly running water; how
delightful was the swift motion without any effort, making the children
feel giddy as some swift eddy hurried them round the turns of the stream.
On, on past the reedy banks, over deep pools and weedy shallows, faster
and faster, Red Cap steering here and there with a touch of the paddle.
At last they came to the end of the rapids, and Red Cap steered the canoe
to a little curve in the banks, and Cis and Hal jumped out.
“It was splendid,” cried Hal, “to come all that way so quickly, without
any trouble, wasn’t it, Cis?”
“Yes,” replied Cis, hesitating a little; “but it rather took my breath
away, and I was afraid we might be upset.”
“Oh! it was safe enough,” said Hal with an air of superior wisdom, “as
long as you sat still; but I suppose it is difficult for girls to do
that. Where now, Mr. Red Cap?” he added.
“I must leave you now, children; but here is Santa Claus waiting for you.”
And there indeed they saw their old friend sitting on a bank.
The children rushed to him, for they were delighted to see him again;
then, turning, they bid Red Cap good-bye, and thanked him heartily for
all his kindness to them, Hal adding, “I shall tell other children of the
wonderful things you have shown us, Mr. Red Cap, that I shall, for I had
often read of fairy-land, but I had never been to it before, and I think
it is a jolly place.”
And with another good-bye, Red Cap vanished from their sight.
“So you have enjoyed yourselves, children? I am glad of that,” said Santa
Claus. “And now, is there anything more you would like to see before you
go home?”
“Yes,” cried Hal, “I _should_ like to see some real snow, the snow mother
tells us of. Can we, please?”
Cis added her entreaty to Hal’s, and Santa Claus said he would take them
where they could see some.
The morning had come, but the sun only now and again shone through the
gray clouds that floated low.
“Come,” said Santa Claus; and taking a hand of each, he led them up
to where a large, soft cloud rested on the hill-side, and he bade the
children sit down with him on it.
Up, up floated the billowy mass into the sky, and glided away to the
south. How smoothly they went along, wafted by the morning breezes! and
Cis and Hal, seated on their soft cushions, gazed dreamily down on the
country that sped away so quickly beneath them.
“How small the big mountains look!” cried Hal; “and the towns and
villages look like toy ones.”
And then they passed over big streams, and a wide strait, that looked
like a silver streak in the far depths. Away, away they floated; the sky
was now clearer, and off the hills, and out of the valleys the mists were
rolling, their silvery edges gleaming in the fitful sunlight.
“Look! we are going over some big ponds now,” said little Cis.
“Ponds!” exclaimed Santa Claus, “those are large lakes, see how they
spread out like sheets of silver water!”
The cloud was by this time passing over one of the largest lakes, and
very beautiful looked the soft shining waters surrounded by mountains,
on the tops of which the clouds still rested. Then the cloud floated to
the far end of the lake, and glided down a narrow valley in which the
milky blue waters of a glacier-stream rushed and roared, though no sound
reached the children, who could only see its fighting wavelets.
On they went, watching the clouds roll from the tree-clad depths and
rocky heights, till at last they uttered cries of joy and wonder.
There, in front of them, the mighty snow-crowned hills pierced the grey
clouds, catching the rosy rays of the now rapidly-rising sun. Vast
ice-fields stretched far and wide, their rifts blue as the breaks in the
sky above, their jagged peaks gleaming with a thousand diamond lights;
and how soft and inviting looked the beds of snow in the hollows!
“The snow! The snow at last!” cried Hal and Cis, as they saw the hills
and their gleaming sides and peaks; “oh! do let us get down, Mr. Santa
Claus.”
“Wait,” he replied; and the cloud glided close to a gorge in one of the
mountains, where a mighty foaming torrent[20] rushed down the rocky
steeps to the valley beneath, the silver streaks thousands of feet
overhead showing where the waters ran out from the glacier fields.
When the cloud stopped, the children jumped off and rushed to the edge of
the waterfall, and, holding on to the trees at the side, were about to
stoop down for a drink, when Santa Claus cried out, “Do not try to drink
there, children, you will be swept away by the rushing waters. Come with
me, and I will show you where you can get a draught of clear still water.”
[Illustration]
Hal and Cis turned reluctantly, and Santa Claus took them where, in a
dry water-course, amid big boulders, they saw clusters of the pure white
flowers of the mountain-lily,[21] and their guide, pointing to these,
said, “See there, if you are thirsty.”
“The flowers are very beautiful, Mr. Santa Claus,” said Cis, “but it is
_water_ we want, and I am _so_ thirsty.”
“Look again,” replied Santa Claus.
There, below the flowers, were large cup-shaped leaves full of clear
cold water; Cis and Hal darted forward to gather them and drink, when
the leaves seemed to be shaken as if with the wind, but there was not
wind enough for that, and, stooping down, they saw two little fat dwarfs
holding the stems and shaking with laughter.
What ugly little fellows they were! Hal thought at first they were green
frogs, for they were dressed in tight-fitting green coats, their big
mouths reached from ear to ear, and their hands and feet were webbed.
“Hulloa!” cried Hal, “who are you?”
Instead of answering, they only laughed and choked, and choked and
laughed.
“You seem to have got bad colds,” said little Cis.
“Perhaps, when you have done, you will tell us what you are laughing at?”
continued Hal, in aggrieved tones.
Still they laughed and choked.
“I wish I were at home; my mother would give you some ipecacuanha wine,
for I think you have got the croup,” said little Cis, in a troubled voice.
At this the dwarfs opened their mouths wider than before, and, at last,
in low croaking voices began a duet:—
“My name it is Gup!”
“My name it is Joke!”
“We’ve got such bad colds (together)
We can only croak.
“We are both so fat, (together)
And we can’t tell why,
Unless it’s because
We live near the sky.”
“So close to the clouds
There’s no need to climb,”
Said Joke, “so all day
I sit here and rhyme.
“I feed upon flies,
And grumble and grunt,
Or for nice fat snails
Al night-time I hunt.”
“Be quiet,” cried Gup.
“That I won’t,” said Joke;
“Your voice is just like
A pig’s in a poke!”
“And little care I
If it is,” said Gup;
“I’m tired to death
Of holding this cup.”
“I like to be fat,
I hate to drink dew,
It’s a weak cold draught
That nourishes few.
“Great poets, they say,
Must live near the skies!”
“That’s me!” cried out Joke;
“I’m ever so wise!
“I know no grammar,
I read no books,
I have but studied
Dame Nature’s looks.
“A poet to gain
The top of the tree,
Has to use long words,
And drone like a bee.”
So we both make rhymes,
And chuckle and grin
At the people who listen,
And cry, “What a sin
“‘These two clever boys
Should not be extolled!’”
“Stop! stop!” cried out Joke,
“Where has the grub rolled?”