FLORIMEL REACHES THE ENCHANTED COUNTRY
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On and on flew Prince Florimel from the wicked uncle who meant to do him
harm.
The friendly stars shone down to guide him on his way, but just what
that way was he did not know. His only thought to put the palace as far
behind him as he could, and at times he turned his head to look back
at its frowning, shadowy walls that finally disappeared from sight.
Florimel gave a deep sigh of relief, but did not relax his speed in the
slightest.
The words of the faithful old Gando were strongly impressed upon his
mind, and he realized that the duke had designs on his life. When it was
discovered that he was missing, a search would be made for him, and once
in the power of the duke it would go hard with him.
So on he ran, and the few people whom he met paid little or no heed
to him, thinking perhaps that he was some frightened peasant-child
hastening to or from home upon some urgent night-errand. And as he went,
always further and further away from the palace, the houses grew fewer
and still fewer, till finally he found himself out in the open country.
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The stars were paling out, and by this time Florimel was very tired,
so that when he saw a hay-stack in a field he quickly sought it, and
burrowing from sight down into the sweet-smelling mass was soon asleep.
The sun was up when he awoke refreshed. He heard the cooling trickle of
a brook hard by, and drank thirstily, and laved his face and hands. Some
distance off upon a dew-spangled hillside thin smoke curled lazily up
from the thatched roof of a farmer's cottage. Florimel who felt the
qualms of hunger drew nigh to it resolved to ask for food.
As he approached the cottage a dog stretched out in the doorway to enjoy
the first genial rays of the sun jumped up and started to bark, but
almost instantly his barks ceased, and he wagged his tail instead with
friendly violence.
A stout, middle-aged woman with a kerchief on her head came to the open
door and eyed him questioningly.
"Good mother," he said, with a winning smile, "may I trespass upon your
hospitality? I would fain break my fast, and this coin will pay my way."
"Food have we a-plenty, and to spare," said the kind-hearted woman, "so
that you are welcome to it. But who are you, and whence came you? You do
not speak like a peasant's child."
"Nay, I have some knowledge of fair speech," said Florimel. "Yet do I
count myself one of the people. And I fare from the city in quest of
adventure. See, I have brought this bow and quiver of arrows with me!"
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"Then most surely you will find it," said the dame, "for we live almost
on the edge of the kingdom, and beyond that line of deep woods there is
a strange country with adventure enough, I warrant you. But come with
me, and sit you at the board. My good man has gone to loose the sheep
from the fold, and will be back very soon."
So Florimel followed his hostess into the plain kitchen, and took his
place at a bare wooden table while she busied herself in the preparation
of the meal. And, as he sat there, and she was occupied with her task,
there rose from outside a sudden hub-bub, made up of the gallop of many
horses' hoofs, the clank and rattle of swords and uniforms, and the
jargon of excited human voices.
The woman in great curiosity rushed from the oven to the door, and
Florimel jumped down from his chair, running after her, and peering out
from behind her.
"Soldiers!" she cried, astounded beyond measure. "What are they doing
here, I wonder?"
[Illustration: LOOKING FOR BROWNIES]
The farmer with cap in hand looked up at them, awed and confused by
their fine airs and magnificence, and while they volleyed questions
at him silently and stupidly shook his head, until at last in their
impatience and disgust they put spurs to their horses' flanks and
galloped off in clouds of dust.
Then the good man ran toward the house, suddenly finding voice, and
shouting at his wife:
"Here's a great to do! The young Prince Florimel has disappeared in the
night, and the whole kingdom is aroused!"
Then noticing Florimel for the first time he asked:
"But who is this?"
"A chance guest to break his fast with us," said his wife. "But let us
eat before the food grows cold."
So Florimel partook heartily of the plain fare of the farmer and his
wife, and throughout the meal the talk of his hosts was of the missing
prince.
"Poor lad!" said the woman with a sigh.
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"I hope that all is well with him. Yet much I fear this search for him
is vain. His uncle, the duke, could tell, I warrant, what has happened
to him. But he will never be heard of more, and the wicked duke will
now be king." "You who have come from the city," said the farmer to
Florimel, "no doubt some time have seen the poor prince. What kind of a
young lad was he? A likely one, so I have heard." "He had his faults,"
admitted Florimel. "He was very small of build--no taller than I. When
last I saw him he looked not unlike me. I doubt if he weighed a penny
weight more."
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"Was he handsome?" asked the woman.
"Am I handsome?" asked Florimel in return.
"Candor compels me to tell you you are not," she frankly said, "though
you are not ill-favored, either."
"Still if I wore the prince's attire," said Florimel, "I would be as
handsome as he. But let us change the subject. You spoke but a while ago
of that strange country which lies adjacent to this. In what manner is
it strange?"
"But little is known of it," said the woman, "for, in truth, it is a
place to be avoided. There are few humans bold enough to penetrate its
mysteries, for in the forests and dense undergrowth are savage beasts
that wreak harm. Often we can hear their wild cries at night, and our
hearts are chilled. And, even if one escape the beasts, there are
Brownies and fairies to weave their mystic charm."
"Are the Brownies there too?" asked Florimel, with interest.
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"Aye, that they are!" said the woman. "But it is not the Brownies that
would hurt you. They are kind little creatures who would help instead of
harm you."
"I would like to see them," said Florimel reflectively. "Many a night as
I lay in my bed have I dreamed of the Brownies."
"See them you cannot," said the woman decidedly, "since you have not
second sight. Many have tried to see the Brownies, but they have
failed through lack of supernatural vision. But there are Brownies
nevertheless, and they go everywhere. Of that we have abundant proof,
have we not, husband?"
"Aye!" said the farmer. "Once when I lay flat upon my back, and the
grain in the field was in danger of rot, the Brownies came one night and
harvested it. In the morning it was all cut and stacked."
"Yes," the good wife hastened to add, "and that very same night they
churned the cream to butter."
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"Are you sure the Brownies did it?" asked Florimel, in surprise. "Who
else but the Brownies?" said the farmer positively. "We had set a bowl
of cream for that is all they ask, and next morning the cream was gone.
Wife, show him the bowl!"
The woman thereupon exhibited an empty blue delf bowl, and Florimel
was convinced. He rose with his hosts from the table, and went to the
doorway from which he gazed to the far line of woods that now held such
charm for him.
"Let me pay you my faring, good people," he said, "for I would be on my
way."
"Nay, there is naught you owe us," said the farmer, "for you have been a
welcome guest. You are a fine young lad, and I have a fancy for you. You
had better bide here with us. There is work for you to do for your board
and lodging. I need someone to tend the sheep."
"I thank you, my good man," said Florimel, "but I must leave you."
"Whither would you go?"
"To that strange country of which your good wife spoke."
"Say not so, young master," implored the woman earnestly. "There are
wild beasts there waiting to devour you."
"And there are wild beasts of men sometimes even more terrible," said
Florimel. "I will take my chances with the beasts. All that I have loved
I have lost, so there is naught to keep me. Each moment I tarry but adds
to the danger that encompasses me."
"Master, can it be?--yes, it must be!" cried the man, with a great light
breaking upon him. "You are the prince!"
"Yes, I am indeed he!" said Florimel. "Convey word to my uncle that I am
gone, and that the child of the brother who trusted in him will never
trouble him again. If the people choose him for their ruler, let the
consequences be on their own heads. And now farewell!"
With this last word on his lips he broke into a run. The man with the
best of intentions tried to follow in the hope of dissuading him from
his rash purpose, while his wife frantically shouted for the young
prince to come back.
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But with the bow and arrows that might mean so much to him Florimel
only increased his pace, so that the other was soon distanced. Finally
the man in despair gave up the chase, and stood watching until Florimel
turned, waved his hand, and disappeared into the heavy growth of forest.
And on and on he went, though nothing extraordinary befell him. So for
three days he continued, suffering neither from hunger nor from thirst,
for there were plenty of pure brooks at which he could lave and drink,
and it was the time of the delicious tomtom, a juicy fruit everywhere in
great abundance, which tasted like a banana flavored with vanilla ice
cream, and which had all the sustaining qualities of beefsteak.
Of this Florimel partook heartily and at will, as well as of berries and
nuts, and when weary slept for precaution's sake in the forked branches
of trees, with his rest broken only by the crashing of some skulking
animal through thick, tangled underbrush in quest of prey or a long,
drawn-out, shuddering night-cry that would chill his blood and cause his
heart for a moment to cease its beat.
Still there were trees growing thickly together, and retarding
and making difficult one's advance. But, just when he was growing
discouraged, they began to thin out, and he came into more open spaces.
Finally he reached a tiny lake that shone like a turquoise in a
bowl-like formation at the base of a steep hill.
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A path ran up the hillside, and this evidently had been much in use, for
the grass was worn and trodden by many feet. On a ledge there was an
old, decaying, leafless tree, and on one of its gaunt, top-branches that
jutted over the lake a pair of intrepid eagles had built their nest.
Florimel looked up and spied the young eaglets who were just old enough
to essay flight, selfishly trying to crowd each other out of their airy
structure of sticks and straws. Far overhead their parents described
invisible circles in the sky, emitting as they did so harsh shrieks of
pride.
While he gazed upward, thinking meanwhile that it was a strange abode
for eagles to choose, in place of the customary mountain-crag, he was
suddenly startled by the savage roar of beasts.
Quick as a flash he turned, and saw a wild, fierce, snarling pack--a
confused, horrifying vision of lions, tigers, and leopards--their red
tongues lolling from their watering mouths--their nostrils dilated at
the scent of human blood--flying with leaps and bounds to rend and tear
him apart and devour him.
Desperately he seized an arrow from the quiver, and placing it in the
bow pointed it at them and pulled back the cord.
But the cord snapped in twain, and the arrow fell harmlessly to the
ground.
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