_The Goblin’s Heath_
The Goblin’s Heath, with its little crouching bushes and heather-clad
hillocks, looked very beautiful in the moonlight. Here and there a tree
rising up from the low bushes around it stood out clearly against the
night sky. Toward the nearest big tree Jack and Molly made their way.
It was a giant of a tree, with great gnarled trunk, and plenty of room
among its lower branches for a little girl and boy to curl up and rest
comfortably and safely, screened by its thick curtain of leaves.
Once they were safely hidden in the tree, Jack and Molly had time to
talk matters over. They decided to stay where they were until daylight,
when they could continue their search. They talked and planned for
some time, and then, as their excitement wore off a little, they began
to get very sleepy. Everything seemed quiet and still around them,
but they would take no more risks that night, so decided to sleep
in turns—one keeping watch, and waking the other up at certain
intervals, or if anything happened in the meantime. They had no idea
what the time was, so they arranged their intervals by the moon. When
the moon reached a certain place, Jack, who undertook the first watch
(protesting that he wasn’t tired), was to wake Molly up. So Molly went
to sleep, after making Jack promise that he would wake her up if she
showed any signs of falling out of the tree. Jack had a hard struggle
to keep awake at first, but he managed it somehow, and after Molly had
woken up and taken a turn at watching, and he had had a short, sound
sleep, he felt much refreshed.
The time wore on and Jack was just starting his second watch, and Molly
had fallen asleep again, when he heard a long rustle in one of the
bushes down below. He leant forward, peering down through the branches;
there was evidently something stirring inside the bush; the leaves
rustled and shook, and then were thrust aside, and a queer little
figure stepped out and stood on the broad footpath in the moonlight.
It was a very small, quaint man, dressed in brown, with a pointed cap
on his head; he gazed along the pathway for a moment, then turned and
scanned the Heath in the opposite direction.
Jack gave a start as something moved in the tree beside him. But it was
only Molly, awake, and wide-eyed, staring down at the little brown man
with absorbed attention.
A squeal of laughter came from among the bushes a short distance away,
and the next second another little man came running over the grass to
the waiting figure and started talking rapidly. Their voices were very
tiny, and although the sounds floated clearly up to the listeners in
the tree, the words were undistinguishable. While they watched a third
little man appeared, accompanied by two quaint little women, dressed
in brown skirts and shawls and brown bonnets. All at once it dawned
on Jack and Molly who these little people were, with the tiny, thin,
dancing legs, and the elfish faces. They were goblins. And, of course,
the Heath was named after them. The children had not expected to see
any goblins on the heath; they had certainly thought it a picturesque
name to call this part of the country, but they had not expected any
reason for the name. But behold! here before their eyes were real
live goblins, the first goblins they had ever seen, and they watched
them, surprised and curious. More goblins now began to appear on the
scene; one after another they came, darting from behind bushes, sliding
down the trunks of trees or dropping from the branches, racing along
the footpath, skipping over the grass, until by and by it seemed as
if there were tiny brown figures scurrying to and fro on every side,
appearing and disappearing, here, there, in and out; the whole Heath
seemed to be alive with goblins. Such a squeaking of tiny voices, a
chinking of goblin laughter, and a pattering of feet; and the goblins
seemed to be all so busy and important and in a feverish haste about
nothing at all.
Presently the children noticed that one of the goblins had made his way
to the foot of their tree and was very busy dragging and pushing aside
a big stone. He moved it away at length and disclosed a small hole in
the tree trunk, close to the ground. He bent down and crawled into the
hole. A scrambling and scratching began inside the tree, that sounded,
as the scrambling noise became louder and nearer, as if the goblin were
climbing up to the top of the trunk.
“Oh, Jack, I believe he lives in this tree,” whispered Molly. “What
shall we do if he finds us up here?” You see, they were not quite sure
whether the goblins were friends or enemies, or how they would be
disposed to regard them.
However, they were soon to know, for a few seconds later, the
scratching and scrambling having continued until it sounded close
underneath where the children were crouching, the goblin popped its
head up through a hole just beside Jack’s right foot. The Goblin
studied the sole of Jacks shoe attentively for a moment, then his gaze
travelled to Jack, whom he eyed with mild astonishment. Then he caught
sight of Molly, and transferred his attention to her. The children
remained silent, not knowing what to say. They could tell nothing of
the Goblin’s attitude toward them from his surprised face. Then he
spoke. His voice sounded very small and far away, but the children were
glad to find that they could understand what he said.
“Are you real?” asked the Goblin.
“Of course we are,” said Jack.
“What are you?” was the next question.
Molly started to explain, but she soon noticed that the Goblin was
shaking his head, so she stopped.
“No ... there isn’t really a place called the Impossible World, which
you can reach through a tree in a forest,” he said, as if confiding
to them a sad truth. “It’s only a story—a make-believe place—like
Dreamland.”
Molly was taken aback.
“Oh, but there _is_ such a place,” she affirmed. “We know there
is—because we have come from there.”
“I like to hear you say that—but I don’t believe you,” said the
Goblin, candidly. “I wish I could. And I wish you _were_ real, indeed I
do.”
“We _are_ real,” said Jack, warmly. “We’re as real as anything. Why,
it’s you that is only—that people say are not—I mean——”
“What do you think we are, then, if you don’t believe we are real
people?” asked Molly, quickly, giving Jack a warning glance.
“Well, you may be only an optical illusion—I may think I see you, but
you may not really be there,” suggested the Goblin blandly, wagging his
quaint little head from side to side. His head and two little hands
clutching the edge of the hole were still the only parts visible of
him.
The children gazed down at him. An optical illusion! This was indeed
a horrible thought, and made Molly pinch herself to make sure she was
really there. Then she laughed.
“We are as real as you are,” she said. Then she had an inspiration. “As
real as Old Nancy,” she added, watching the Goblin closely.
His expression changed immediately, and a look of glad surprise crossed
his face. “Why, do you know her?” he asked quickly.
“Rather,” said Jack. “She’s a friend of ours.”
“Then I am a friend of yours,” said the Goblin, climbing out
of the hole and standing beside the children. “Whether you are
real—or—or—whatever you are.”
Their recent lesson in trusting people had made the children more
cautious, and although they could see that they had no choice in their
behaviour toward this little Goblin, as they were powerless to escape
from the Heath with its swarms of goblins, yet they felt friendly
disposed toward him for his own sake. He seemed quite genuine in
his regard for Old Nancy, and very soon he was sitting in the tree
beside them, chatting away and asking them all about themselves, and
answering questions by the score.
They found that he knew that the Pumpkin had returned, one of his
brother-goblins had brought the news. And they discovered also that the
goblins were the Pumpkin’s bitter enemies. Then they told him all about
their search for the Black Leaf, and how they were to search the Heath
when daylight came.
“You won’t see any of us in the daytime,” said the Goblin. “We’ll be
all asleep down our little holes ... but I don’t think the Black Leaf
is anywhere on the Heath, or one of us would have seen it, and the news
would have soon spread amongst us.”
“Still, I suppose we shall have to search it all the same ... as we
promised,” said Molly.
“Yes, you’re quite right,” agreed the Goblin, “Besides, we _might_ not
have seen it. I’m afraid you’ll find the Heath very big—but I daresay
you could search it in a day if you start at dawn.... I wish I could
help you, but—ah! one thing I can do—I can send word to you if the
Pumpkin appears anywhere in this neighbourhood while you are searching
the Heath....”
“That is very kind of you,” said Molly. “It will help us a lot.”
“And when you come to the village beyond—if you want to know of some
one you can trust—go to Miss Marigold. Don’t forget the name,” said
the Goblin.
“Miss Marigold,” repeated Jack. “I’ll remember. Thanks, very much.”
“Do you know,” smiled the Goblin, “when I heard that Old Nancy had sent
the Pumpkin to the Impossible World, I thought it was a place like
Dreamland—or a make-believe place, but now—if you say that you really
are—I suppose you can’t come down from the tree and let the other
goblins see you?”
The children were about to reply, when a great hubbub and excitement
arose among the goblins below, as a new goblin dashed in among them
with some exciting news.
“Wait here,” said the Goblin, “and I’ll go and find what it’s all
about.”
He soon climbed down and appeared among the crowd of eager, chattering
goblins. Presently he slipped away again and scrambled up the tree to
the children.
“I’m glad you didn’t come down,” he said. “They are searching for
you—the Pumpkin’s spies are; an old woman and a young girl. Some of
the goblins saw them about half an hour ago, on the main road over the
Heath.”
Jack and Molly began to shiver a little.
“It’s all right,” said the Goblin. “I haven’t told the goblins where
you are. I thought they’d be sure to want to see you, and this, of
course, would attract attention. But I _have_ told them to go and
have some sport and to lead the old hag and the girl a real dance.
I told them they were the Pumpkin’s spies—they _will_ lead them a
dance too—making crackly noises in the bushes to lead them off the
track—and running—and squealing—a regular goblins’ dance we’ll
lead them. I’ll go too and tell you what happens. I’ll be back before
dawn—this is my home, you know—this tree. Good-bye for the present,”
and he dashed away.
The children saw him swoop into a group of excited goblins and urge
them to follow him—which they did. And presently there was scarcely
a goblin in sight. They had all gone trooping away to the place on
the Heath where the old woman and the girl were searching for Jack and
Molly.
It seemed to the children that they waited in the tree for hours and
hours, waiting, listening. Occasional sounds floated to them from the
distance. They could hear squeaking and crackling, and once they heard
a shrill scream. But they saw nothing, until the dawn broke.
Almost immediately afterward the Goblin returned, darting from out
of the bushes opposite, popping into the hole in the tree trunk and
scrambling up to them. In the pale glimmer of the morning light he told
them what had happened, and how they had twice prevented the old woman
from turning down the path that led past the children’s hiding-place.
“They are gone from the Heath now,” he said. “We drove them home, in
the end, by darting out and pinching their legs and throwing prickly
leaves at them. There were thousands of us goblins.... I wish you could
have seen us.... When they found we were really in earnest and meant to
get rid of them, and were not just teasing—they soon went. The old hag
tried to tread on some of us—she was so angry; but we snatched her
shoe off and threw it into a pond.”
“It’s very kind of you to have helped us so,” said Molly.
“We enjoyed it,” said the Goblin. “It was great fun. And they really
deserved it, you know.”
And now that it was daybreak the Goblin bade good-bye to the children.
“Remember,” he said, “I will find some means of warning you throughout
the day, if the Pumpkin is near.” He popped down his hole; they heard
him scramble a little way inside the tree—then all was quiet.
Jack and Molly looking out from the tree saw that all the other goblins
had vanished. They waited a while until the day came, then they climbed
down from their hiding-place, stretched themselves, and at once set
about their search.
It was a difficult task, and a long one, for there seemed countless
thick bushes, trees, hillocks, and winding paths on the Goblin’s Heath.
But they plodded on, searching eagerly and carefully. For a couple
of hours they worked, then as the morning advanced they remembered
that they had had nothing to eat since yesterday. So they climbed up
another tree, so as not to be taken by surprise, and finished up
the remains of Glan’s ‘snack,’ while they discussed their plans for
the day—studying their map so as not to leave any part of the Heath
unsearched.
“There’s one bit I’m afraid we must go back and do,” said Molly,
“though I don’t like the idea of going near there again. You remember,
Jack—we did not search the little bit of lane just beyond that—that
house yesterday; that bit and the very beginning of the Heath.”
They did not like the idea of going back to the Third Green Lane at
all. But they went. When they came within sight of the lane they were
amazed to find that the house had gone. It had vanished completely.
Jack and Molly could scarcely believe their eyes at first, but on the
whole they were distinctly relieved that it wasn’t there; nevertheless,
they searched the end of the lane and the edge of the Heath quickly,
with constant, watchful eyes on the place where the house had been.
Having satisfied themselves that the leaf was nowhere about there, they
proceeded to the spot where they had left off searching, and continued
peering among the bushes and trees and heather of the Goblin’s Heath.
Hour after hour passed by, and the day wore on. Still they plodded away
at their task, keeping together and listening always, in case a message
came from the Goblin. When they got hungry again, they ate some of Old
Nancy’s little brown sweets, and found them very refreshing.
In the daylight they could hardly imagine it was the same Heath that
they had seen by moonlight; there was not the slightest trace of
goblins, or spies. That is, not the slightest trace until they came
across a pond and saw, half out of the water, and stuck in the soft
mud, a shoe: a curiously shaped shoe, which they remembered, vaguely,
seeing before—on the foot of the old woman with the horrible eyes.
This was evidently the shoe that the goblins had thrown into the pond.
The sight of it made all their recent adventures return vividly to
their minds, and made them very unwilling to be still on the Heath when
night came. So they hastened on their way.
Evening was already approaching when they finally came to the end of
their day’s search, and no sign of the Black Leaf had they found. As no
warning had come from the Goblin and they had not been disturbed in any
way, they felt, on the whole, all the better for their open-air day on
the sunny, wind-swept Heath; though they were tired now, and not at all
sorry to turn their footsteps toward the little village, which appeared
close at hand, at the edge of the Heath.