THE MERMAID'S CAVE
As I have never been in a truly house, I cannot know of all the kinds of
carpets or coverings that Folks use on the floors.
Yet I have had peeps at very lovely carpets, as in a ship's cabin, and I
know that velvet and fine, beautiful straw, as well as other kinds of
nice carpets, must be used in what Folks call their houses.
Oh, but never has a floor of wood been covered with such wonderful
material, or covering of such marvellous workmanship, as that over which
I have roamed, and on which I have rested all my life. Yet, except in
deep waters, I will not pretend that my carpets are always very soft.
In the deeper waters that I love, there are miles and miles of soft,
blue mud, that to a Dolphin is far more luxurious and enjoyable than the
thickest of velvet or the most closely, evenly plaited straw could be.
But when, after a long, delightful journey, I visit the regions of
shallower waters, ah, the beautiful things I could bring you, were there
a tunnel, a car, or an air-shaft to convey me safely to land!
What are these shining, many-colored things I see lying about, with all
kinds of fishes sailing around and playing with, as a child plays with
blocks or cards?
Shells! all kinds and shapes, many of them rough outside but smooth and
glossy as glass inside.
What is a shell? You know the word "marine," called ma-_reen_, means
belonging to the sea, so shells are marine curiosities, for they are
always found in or near the sea. And they are really the hard, outer
covering of some sea-animal or other.
But how can I describe shells such as I have looked upon a thousand
times? You have seen some kinds, I know, but they would not even pass as
samples of the splendid shapes and tints that lie scattered around my
floor. A few Folks have made a study of the different kinds of shells
that have floated or been carried to the shore, and have been able to
tell the class of sea-animals to which they have belonged. They once
were the coats or outside garment of a swimmer or a clinger of the sea.
One day a mother-Dolphin missed her boy-Dolphin, and as he was quite a
young fellow, she felt much distressed. Away she sailed, peering amidst
the many objects covering the sea-floor.
Do you suppose it is an easy matter to find a fish that has got lost? I
caught the flying-fish because he never got far away from me. But here
was a young rascal that had gone off roaming, almost before he knew how
to feed himself, and search as she might, nowhere could his mother find
the rogue of a runaway.
If you will believe it, he was gone a week, then back he came, his eyes
as big as saucers. You see, I know how to say some things that Folks do;
by and by you will find out how I learned them.
Master Dolphy had a story to tell. He made us understand in
fish-language that he had found a wonderful, wonderful cave, where a
party of mermaids had collected a lot of shells, oh, enough to fill a
great house!
Now, I can't tell a thing as to the truth about mermaids. But "they
say," that is, Folks and fishes say, that they are strange, fascinating
creatures, with the head, shoulders, arms, and breast of a beautiful
woman, and part of the body and the tail of a fish. Sometimes they are
called sea-nymphs; others call them sirens.
Have you ever lived by the sea? And on stormy evenings, when rain was
rattling on the window-pane, and the wind went screaming around the
house, have you ever imagined there were queer calls, and have you seen
strange shapes thrown up by the waves?
Or have you ever heard an old sailor or an old fisherman tell stories of
the deep? If not, you cannot take in the kind of spell or enchantment
that lingers about the sea after listening to these sounds or hearing
these stories. They are all mixed up with the "myth" stories you heard
of a little way back.
But these stories have been told ever since the world was young. And the
mermaids are said to be daughters of the river-god that have lived ever
in the deep and sounding ocean.
And they were strange and weird--that is, wild, unnatural, and witching.
They would appear in both calm and stormy weather.
Sirens were sometimes thought to be different from mermaids, but we
fishes know them to be one and the same thing--that is, if they exist at
all. It used to be said that a mermaid murmured, but that a siren sang,
with dangerous sweetness. Both murmur and both sing, one as much as the
other.
They will all at once be seen poised on perilous rocks, their long and
splendid hair floating back in the wild wind, their eyes shining like
stars, their faces bright and glorious, their white arms and gleaming
shoulders rising like snow from midst the dark and stormy waves.
Ah! the singing, the beckoning, and the coaxing of a mermaid! Let me
tell you how they work.
They have a sly, four-legged creature on land, all dressed in fur, and
sporting a fine, thick tail, and they say that when this Madame Puss
wants to catch a bird that is wheeling in the air, she will manage to
first catch its eye. Then the little creature will not be able to look
away, but will wheel and circle, and circle and wheel, all the time
coming nearer, until, if no one frightens Madame Puss away, she will
keep her yellow eye fixed on the eye that she has caught, until the bird
flies close to her and is caught.
This is called "charming a bird." And the truth must be that poor
birdie, after catching sight of that great, shining eye, does not see
Madame Puss herself, but only the bright eye, and being unable to look
away, flies nearer and nearer the strange, glittering light, until
Madame Puss makes a spring, and all is over.
[Illustration: "WHITE FACES SEEMED TO RISE AND RIDE ATOP OF THE FOAMING
BILLOWS"]
Just so, it is said, the sailors cannot look away from the fair,
wonderful creatures tossing their rich hair, beckoning wildly, singing
and singing with a sweetness that is not natural or earthly, until, what
with the beauty and luring, and voices of honey, the poor sailormen are
close against the rocks, and do not seem to know that they are charmed
or harmed when the waters close softly over them.
I do not know whether I have ever seen a mermaid or not. But when I took
that dangerous voyage up into the storm circle, I saw strange shapes
that I never saw before, and heard sounds that were new to my ear. Two
or three times I thought I saw streaming hair, and white faces seemed to
rise and ride atop of the foaming billows.
But when one is very much excited, will not imagination produce almost
any kind of an object that happens to come into the mind? Ah, I am
afraid so. Still, there are both Folks and fishes that believe in the
mermaids and their songs, and what am I that I should dare dispute them!
Yet--let me whisper--I have heard that Folks who do not know so very
much, will tell about "goblins," "spooks," and "catch-ums," and whenever
there is talk about the mermaids and the sirens, I think of those Folks
who believe in creatures that "never were."
But it would not do to talk in my watery home as if I had no belief in
mermaids, because, you see, as most fishes have never been with Folks,
and learned a thing or two from them, they do not know any better than
to believe in these sweet, dangerous creatures.
So, now, here came Dolphy, with flapping fins, wild eye, and his story
of a mermaid's cave. Then a party was made up to go and see the rare and
amazing place.
Well, it did look as if some creatures of surprising taste and skill had
brought together a collection of shells such as are never seen above the
surface of the sea, and formed, indeed, a cave fit for a mermaid's home.
I know little about time, but it must have been days and nights I stayed
in the enchanting place, roving hither and thither, rubbing my fins
against the soft, smooth shells, and half wondering how they really came
to be grouped together in such shining rows.
And the colors! And the shapes! Some were well-opened on the inside, and
looked as if entirely covered with pink enamel. They were of clear,
ivory white, pinkish white, pale rose, deep rose, pale yellow, or straw
color, orange yellow, blue and green mixed in glossy sheen, shades of
pink running into rich reds, purples and grayish pinks, making the fair,
sweet mother-o'-pearl.
Some were cup-shaped, having deep hollows. Should you hold your ear
fairly shut into one of these, it is said you would hear always as often
as you so held it, the roaring of the ocean. And a roaring sound you
would hear, in very truth. Yet, let me tell you! Take a common china
cup, shut your ear into it, and the same roaring will be heard.
Is that old ocean? No, it is simply the sound of your own blood coursing
through your veins.
A wide-awake Frenchman once wrote that, could you look within your own
body and see the engines pumping, the valves opening and shutting, the
pipes working, and the whole machinery in action, it would surprise and
perhaps scare you into the bargain.
We have got a little off the track, but it is well to know the facts
about these things. Now we will return to the shells.
Look at that splendid one shaped like a bowl, but with pink lips rolled
back, through which can be seen changing tints of pink and white. Here
is one that is oblong, lined with rose enamel, but having strange horns
pointing out at one side.
See that beauty, wide open and shaped like a saucer. Dear me, hold it a
little toward the light, and there gleams every color of the rainbow on
the polished surface. Here is another, striped with hair-like lines in
red, yellow, blue, and brown. There is a fan, wide open, beautifully
polished; it has no handle, but its coloring is in nearly all tints, and
changeable in the light. What a lovely thing is this heart-shaped shell,
with a line along the centre, and beautifully blending colors on either
side. There are many of these scattered around.
Now, how can I describe these singular yet perfect shapes banked up
against rocks that are completely hidden on the inside of the cave?
Over there is a funny, snarly head, with fine shreds of hair laced over
a smooth shell. Ah, what gleams of colored light shoot through the hair!
Here is a bird's nest on a bar, lying side of a wide fan, shaped like a
palm leaf; in the plaitings are curled all colors, pink, blue, yellow,
and green.
This shell is like a foot with eighteen or twenty toes, smooth, shining,
and of flesh-like tints. This is like a bat's wing, with lines and webs
finely tinted. Look at that enamelled jug with a pipe at the top. Near
by is a perfect leaf on a small branch.
Do see this worm, ringed around with dark purple stripes. Isn't it
queer? In that corner is a trumpet, splendidly colored inside. That
shape over there must be a fool's cap, one mass of sheeny tints inside.
Here are beautifully rounded little bowls, all scalloped around the top;
ah, see them glisten and change shades as the light strikes them!
See the beetle-bugs, with horns sticking out in every direction. And if
here isn't a perfect shape of a lady's slipper! The lady should wear it
inside out, so all could see its exquisite mother-o'-pearl.
Here are shells exactly like the feathery wing of a bird, and how birdie
would enjoy snuggling his soft head against the exquisite smoothness of
these shells!
Is that a large carrot split lengthwise? It looks like it, but no carrot
split along its length ever brought to light such rainbows as glint
along these. Those shells looking so much like rattles would amuse a lot
of babies if they could play in the mermaid's cave. They would try to
catch the fine colors, and might cry when they changed and changed, and
then appeared to dance away.
Those serpents, some half uncoiled, some out straight, will not bite.
Those flashes are not from dangerous eyes, but are only fine shell
tints.
Here are a lot of squat jars for holding small ornaments. They are
ornaments themselves. Are they not? And what queer combs with three
shining rows of teeth, each tooth a point of color.
Really, I might as well stop. There would be no use in trying to
describe a third of these shapes, and as to coloring, with all I have
said, you can have but a faint idea of the soft, brilliant, ever
changing hues and gleams in the mermaid's cave.