we'll make a scare-gander. We'll dress the gander up like a figure and
it shall sit there quietly, and then, when the dwarfs come in to look
at it, it can fly up and beat them with its wings so they'll never dare
to come back again."
The gander stretched its great wings up and beat them loudly. "Yes,
yes," it hissed.
"That might do," said the dwarfs; "but first we'll have our dinners,
for we have been working hard and we're hungry."
So, as soon as they had finished eating their porridge they dressed
the white gander. Ellen put her hat on its head and her shoes on its
feet. They tied an apron that had belonged to Snowdrop about his neck,
and put on a veil that hung down over his beak. Then they set him in a
chair, and he looked so funny that Ellen could hardly help laughing.
"Now we'll all go back to our work," said the oldest dwarf, "and when
those evil ones count that all seven of us have gone they'll soon be
here to see what mischief they can do about the house."
So the dwarfs all put on their caps, and, shouldering their drills and
picks, off they started, leaving the white gander sitting in the chair.
As for Ellen, she hid in the dresser, keeping the door just a crack
open so she could see out.
She had only been in there a few minutes when there was a noise at the
window and an evil looking dwarf peered in. He peered all about the
kitchen and then he cried, "It's all right. They've all gone and left
the house to take care of itself. They'll be sorry enough they left it
when they come back. Quick! In, all of us, and see what mischief we can
do."
With that he dropped back from the window, and in a minute a great
crowd of dwarfs came tumbling in through the door. They were not as
large as the good dwarfs, but they looked so spiteful and evil that
Ellen was frightened and wished she and her white gander were well out
of it.
"What mischief shall we begin with?" cried one.
"Let's pull all the pots and pans out of the dresser first," said
another, "and see what ones we can break."
"Yes, yes," cried still others.
Several of them started over toward the dresser where Ellen was hidden,
and if they had found her there it would have gone hard with her, but
at the same moment one of them cried, "Oh, look here! Just see this
puppet they've dressed up. Did they think they could scare us with
that? Let's tear it to pieces before we do anything else."
All the dwarfs rushed pell-mell toward the chair where the gander sat,
dressed in Ellen's hat and shoes and with a veil over its face. It sat
as still as a stone until they were close upon it. Then up rose the
great white gander with a hiss. It spread its wide strong wings,
and before the dwarfs could escape it had brought them down with such
a blow that three of the dwarfs were knocked head over heels. The rest
cried out in terror at the sight, and hastened towards the door, but
the goose was after them.
[Illustration]
It beat and buffeted them with its wings and hissed so piercingly in
their ears that they did not know what was after them. Out through the
door they went and away over stump and through brier with the great
white gander after them. The forest re-echoed with their harsh cries of
fear.
The good dwarfs heard it, and came hastening home to learn how Ellen's
plot had succeeded. Just after they came in, back came the gander, and
if ever a bird laughed it was laughing then.
"Mistress, did I not beat them well?"
"You did indeed," said Ellen, and all the dwarfs agreed with a loud
voice.
Then Ellen showed them how to take a pillow and dress it up as the
gander had been dressed. They set it in a chair and moved the chair in
front of the window, so that when you look at it from the outside it
was exactly as though it were the gander itself sitting there. "I think
they'll be afraid ever to come near the house again as long as that is
there," said Ellen.
"They will indeed," cried all the dwarfs.
Then the child again begged them to tell her which way she was to go to
find the Queerbodies' house.
"That's easily told," answered the oldest dwarf. "All you have to do is
to watch the leaves and follow the way they turn, and that will soon
bring you where you want to go."
"How queer!" cried Ellen. "With us the leaves turn every which way, as
the wind happens to blow."
"I don't see much use in that," said the dwarf. "I don't see how you
ever find your way through the woods if that's the way they do. Come,
look here."
He led Ellen out under the trees in front of the house. There was no
breath of air and the leaves all hung motionless. "Now take a few
steps," said the dwarf. Ellen did so and immediately all the leaves
stirred and began pointing toward the right, like wise little green
fingers. "That's your way," said the dwarf. "Only remember and follow
the direction they point out and you can't lose it."
Ellen thanked the kindly dwarfs, and she and her gander started briskly
off toward the right.
On and on they went, and after a while they passed close to where there
was a great heap of rocks; something kept bobbing about back of this
heap, now appearing, now disappearing. At first Ellen thought it was a
big bird, but as she went nearer the gander spoke: "Mistress, it's one
of those wicked dwarfs."
Ellen stopped short, feeling rather frightened, but now the dwarf
climbed on top of the rock and called to her: "Child, child, did you
see a little house in the woods as you came along?"
"Yes, I did," answered Ellen.
"And did you stop there?"
"Yes, I did."
"And did you see anything of the big doll that beats you with flails?"
He meant the gander and its wings.
"Oh, yes," said Ellen; "I saw that too."
"And is it still there?"
"No, they haven't that one, but they have another doll half as big
again. It sits by the window, and if you'll go and look you'll see it
there now."
"No, no," cried the dwarf. "If that's true we'll never go near the
house again," and away he went, hopping over the rocks and disappearing
in a big crack, and Ellen saw no more of him or his kind.
_Chapter Six_
_The Great Gray Wolf_
On and on went Ellen and the gander, following the pointing of the
leaves, and all the while the forest kept growing deeper and greener
and lonelier.
There were no flowers now as there had been at first, but here and
there on the trees or ground grew wonderful fungi. Some were yellow
as gold, some were red as blood, and still others were streaked and
spotted as beautifully as sea-shells. The only flowers to be seen were
the wax-white "Indian-pipes" and there were whole clumps of them.
Ellen had just stooped to pick some, when suddenly the gander hissed,
and at the same moment a harsh voice spoke so close to her ear that it
made her start, "Good morning!"
[Illustration]
Ellen glanced around, and there, standing close to her, was an enormous
gray wolf, ragged and scarred. The sound of his paws had been so
muffled by the moss that she had not heard him coming.
"Good morning," answered Ellen, her heart beating a little faster at
sight of him.
"Where are you going this pleasant day?" asked the wolf.
"I am on my way to the Queerbodies' house."
"The Queerbodies! I never heard of them. Are they good to eat?" said
the wolf. Then he added hastily, "No, no; I don't mean that. I meant
are they pleasant, merry people?"
"I don't know," answered Ellen. "I've never seen them, and I'm not sure
whether I can find them at all. But if I mean to get to their house
to-day I think I'd better be going; so good-bye," and she began to walk
on, for she did not like to be there in that lonely spot with a great
gray wolf for company.
The wolf, however, trotted along beside her. "Not good-bye," he said,
"for I have nothing to do just now, so I'll just go with you part of
the way for the sake of the walk and the company."
Ellen said nothing, but quickened her steps, while the gander and the
gray wolf kept up with her, the one on one side, the other on the
other.
Presently the wolf began again. "Now about those Queerbodies, it's
curious I never heard of them, for I thought I knew everybody
hereabouts: the dwarfs, and Little Red Riding Hood, and the three
bears, and--" he hesitated for a moment, and then added with a gulp,
"and the woodsmen; but no Queerbodies that I ever heard tell of."
"Who lives there?" asked Ellen, pointing to a little house she had just
caught sight of in a dank and lonely glade. It had occurred to her that
she might stop there for a glass of water and so rid herself of the
wolf's company.
The wolf grinned, as though he guessed her thought. "Nobody lives there
now. Queer looking house isn't it?"
Ellen thought it was indeed a queer looking house. "Why, what is it
made of?" she asked.
"Bread and cake and barley sugar. But wouldn't you like to see it
closer? You might eat some of it, too, if you like, for no one ever
visits it now except the wind and rain."
Ellen walked over toward the house, while the wolf stopped a moment to
bite out a burr that had stuck between his toes. "I'll be with you in a
moment," he called after her.
"Mistress," said the gander stretching up its neck to whisper in
Ellen's ear, "that old Gray-coat means no good to us."
"He frightens me," Ellen whispered back, "but what can I do?"
"He isn't looking now. Let's slip inside the house and lock the door."
Ellen glanced back over her shoulder. The wolf was still busy over the
burr, but it was some distance to the house. "Do you think we can get
there before him?" she asked.
"We can but try."
"Come, then," and Ellen began to run toward the house; while the gander
ran beside her, helping himself along with his wings.
At the noise they made, the wolf looked up, and then with a howl of
rage came tearing after them with long swift bounds. By the time Ellen
and the gander were on the threshold of the house he was at the foot of
the steps, but, turning, the little girl slammed the door and shot the
bolt into place.
With a howl of rage, the wolf flung himself against it so that it shook
again, and Ellen and the gander trembled as they stood within; but the
good door held, the bolt was true, and the wolf might do his worst;
they were safe from him for the time at least.
Finding that he could do nothing, old Gray-coat sat down panting, his
fierce eyes fixed upon the house. "Wait a bit," he muttered to himself.
"You have escaped me this time, but I have as much time to spend as
you, and how will it be when you have to come out again?"
Ellen, who heard this, looked at the gander. "What he says is true,"
she whispered. "We are safe now, but we can't stay here; and how are
we to get away without his catching us?"
"Let us think about that, perhaps we can contrive some way," the gander
made answer.
He began to look about. The inside of the house was not built of cake
and bread like the outside, but of wood, and the furniture was wooden
also. At one end of the room was a great iron cage with a door and a
padlock and key to fasten it. The cage was open at the top, but the
bars were too high for any one but a monkey to climb out over them.
"I believe I know exactly what house this is," Ellen cried suddenly.
"It's the house where Hänsel and Gretel came when they were lost in the
forest; the house where the wicked witch lived. And this is the cage
where she kept Hänsel. You know she put him in the cage and shut the
door and fastened him in."
Stooping, she picked up some hard red bits of shell from the floor.
"Crabs' claws! Yes, now I know it's the same. Don't you know the story
says, 'the best of food was cooked for poor Hänsel, but Gretel received
nothing to eat but crabs' claws.'"
The gander walked into the cage and looked it over carefully.
"Mistress, I believe I can get rid of the wolf," he said.
"How is that?"
"In this way," and the gander began to tell his scheme, while the
little girl listened eagerly. "Yes, yes," she cried; "that might do.
And I'm to hide in the cupboard while you open the door. Yes, and then
to slip out and fasten the lock. Yes, I'll do it."
After they had their plan all arranged Ellen did as she said. She
tiptoed across the floor and hid herself in the closet.
The gander waited until she was safely settled and all was quiet, and
then he waddled over to the house door and peeped out through the
keyhole. There at the foot of the steps sat the wolf, his red tongue
hanging out over his long white teeth, his fierce eyes fixed on the
house.
Suddenly with a rattle and noise the gander unbolted the door and flung
it open. Like a flash the wolf bounded up and into the house. He gave a
glance about him. Ellen was not to be seen, because she was hiding in
the cupboard, but there was the plump white gander. It had flown away
from the door as if in a great fright and into the cage. "Just where it
is easy to catch you!" cried the wolf, as he bounded into the cage in
pursuit of it, every tooth in his head showing.
The gander, however, was not to be so easily caught as the wolf had
thought. In a moment it spread its wings and flew up over his head,
while at the same time Ellen slipped out of the cupboard and shut the
cage door, turning the key, tick-a-lock.
There was the wolf safely fastened behind the iron bars, but the
gander flew out over the top of the cage and alighted on the floor at
Ellen's side. "Come, Mistress," he said, "the way is clear now, and we
can journey on as soon as we choose."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
How the wicked old wolf did howl and threaten! But it was no good.
Ellen and the gander let him make all the noise he chose, but they left
him there. All they would do was to promise to send the first woodsman
they met in the woods to take charge of the cruel old Gray-coat.
They had scarcely travelled beyond sound of his howls when they met a
huntsman with horn and gun journeying along under the trees. He greeted
the two, and would have passed on, but Ellen stopped him.
"If you please," said she, "there's a wolf fastened in a cage in the
little cake house back there. If you live near here would you mind
taking care of him and seeing that he gets food and water?"
"A wolf!" cried the huntsman. "Who caught it?"
"This gander and I," and Ellen began telling the huntsman all about
their meeting it, and what a narrow escape they had had.
The huntsman could not wonder enough. "I know that old wolf well
enough," he said. "You have had a narrow escape, child. That is the
same wolf that came so near to eating up Red Riding Hood." The man
then went on to say that he would get some of his fellows and they
would bind the wolf and carry him to King Thrush-beard, who was making
a collection of wild animals.
He begged the little girl to come with him as the king would be sure to
give a large reward for such a large, fierce beast, but Ellen said she
had no time. She must hasten on if she wished to reach the Queerbodies'
house that day.
"Then at least accept this horn," and the huntsman unslung the one that
he carried at his shoulder. "It is all I have to offer you, but it may
serve to remind you of your adventure."
Ellen thought the horn very pretty, and was delighted. She thanked the
huntsman, and then, bidding him good-by, she and her gander started
forward once more upon their journey.
_Chapter Seven_
_The Magic Lamp_
"Mistress, I think we must be coming to the end of the forest," said
the gander. "The trees are not so close together, and I seem to see a
light beyond."
"I hope we are," answered the little girl.
"Once we are out from under the trees I can use my wings and then we'll
get along faster," the gander added.
Even sooner than he had thought, they came to the edge of the forest,
where the open country began. It seemed very bright after the leafy
shade where they had travelled so long.
Before them was the gentle slope of a hill, and away beyond it stood a
castle that shone like gold against the sky. "Oh see," cried Ellen, "a
castle. Let's go nearer and look at it."
"Very well," answered the gander. "Seat yourself upon my back and we'll
soon be there."
As the little girl was settling herself between his wings they heard a
far-off sound of trumpets, and saw a number of people coming out of the
castle. Even at that distance she could tell by the way the sunlight
glittered on their clothing that they must be very magnificently
dressed. There were horses, too, with nodding plumes. They all seemed
to be forming in a procession, and then with another sound of trumpets
they began to move away in an opposite direction.
"Oh hurry," cried Ellen, almost falling off the gander in her
eagerness. "It must be a parade."
The gander spread his wings and flew as fast as he could, but when he
reached the castle the procession had disappeared. No one was to be
seen but two slavesstanding at the foot of the steps before the
door. They were very magnificent, being dressed all in cloth of gold,
and wearing about their necks collars of diamonds and rubies.
[Illustration]
"Was that a parade that just went away?" asked Ellen, as the gander
alighted softly upon the palace steps.
The slaves seemed struck with terror and amazement at her sudden
appearance. They threw themselves down before her hiding their eyes.
"Do not harm us," they cried. "We are only poor slaves."
"Why I'm not going to hurt you," said Ellen. "I couldn't, anyway. I'm
only a little girl."
"But surely you must be a magician to ride through the air in this
way," and one of the slaves raised his head a little.
Ellen felt like laughing. "No, I'm not anything but a child, and this
is Mother Goose's gander."
The slaves now rose from the ground with a relieved look, "And you are
really not a magician?"
"No, of course not. But what was all that we saw? We thought it was a
parade."
"It was our master Aladdin with his slaves and guards riding away to
pay a visit to his father-in-law, the sultan."
"_Aladdin!_ Do you mean the Aladdin who has the wonderful lamp?"
"Even the same."
"Oh, I do wish I could see the lamp," and the child clasped her hands
in her eagerness. "I never believed it was true before. Don't you think
he would let me look at it?"
"He is away now, as we have just told you."
"But couldn't you let me see it? I've always wondered what it looked
like, and thought what I'd wish for, if I had it."
The slaves looked at her suspiciously and began to whisper together.
Then one of them turned to her again and spoke, "I cannot promise,"
he said, "but if you will be pleased to follow me it may be that the
soldiers will allow you to see the lamp."
The gander plucked at Ellens sleeve. "Mistress, Mistress, do not follow
him," he whispered. "I don't know why, but I fear danger."
Ellen, however, was too eager to heed what the gander said. It was too
wonderful a chance to lose; the chance of really seeing--perhaps even
handling--the lamp of Aladdin. So she drew her sleeve away, and as the
slaves led the way she followed them into a great hallway all of gold,
set with patterns of rubies and emeralds.
The hall was empty with no one in sight except themselves, though Ellen
could hear a distant sound of music and singing from some other part of
the castle.
Along the hall they went, and up a flight of golden steps. After this
there was another hall and more stairs and winding ways, until Ellen
felt completely lost.
At last they came to a barred and bolted door before which stood two
soldiers with drawn swords in their hands. As they saw Ellen and the
gander coming up the hall they crossed their swords before the door.
"Who are these whom you have dared to bring hither?" they cried to the
slaves.
The slaves made a deep reverence. "If you please," answered one of
them, "it is one who says she is a child, and who comes begging to see
the lamp of Aladdin."
Ellen began to feel somewhat timid, the soldiers looked at her so
frowningly and suspiciously. "If you don't mind," she began, "I thought
I would like to see it, but if it's too much trouble, of course it
doesn't matter."
The foremost slave advanced with great respect and began whispering to
the soldiers. They frowned more and more heavily as they listened. At
last as the slave finished whispering they lowered their swords. "Very
well," said one of them to Ellen, "you shall see the lamp." He made a
motion and the slaves sprang forward and unbolted and unbarred the door.
At a gesture from the soldier Ellen stepped inside. On the instant, and
before the gander had time to follow her in, the door was shut behind
her with a crash, and she heard the bolts and bars falling into place.
With a sudden fear she turned and tried to open the door. It was fast.
They had made her a prisoner. "Let me out! Let me out!" she called, but
there was no answer. "It's nothing but a fairy tale," whispered the
child to herself. "Nothing but a fairy tale, so of course they can't
hurt me, but I wish my gander was in here, too. I wonder why they shut
the door, anyway. They said I might come in." Then a sudden suspicion
struck her. "I wonder if they thought I had come here to steal the
lamp?" Breathing rather fast, she turned and looked about her. The room
where she stood was very large and high. Like the halls it was made
entirely of gold, and the walls were polished until it seemed as though
they must be too slippery for even a fly to crawl upon them. There was
no door except the one by which she had come in, and though there were
two windows they were very narrow, and set so high in the wall that it
would have needed a long ladder to climb up to them. Ellen walked all
around the room. There seemed no possible way of getting out.
Half way up one of the walls and far out of reach was a little shelf
set with rubies and diamonds and other precious stones, and upon this
shelf stood a battered, rusty old lamp. As Ellen's eyes fell upon it
she felt sure it must be the magic lamp.
Suddenly she was startled by something coming against the opening of
one of the windows and darkening it. There was a sound of brushing and
rustling, and her gander flew down beside her. "Here I am, Mistress,"
he said.
"Oh dear, Gander," cried Ellen, "I'm so glad you've come! Why did they
shut the door?"
"Well, from the talk I heard around me, they were afraid you wanted to
steal that lamp up there on the shelf and run away with it, and that's
why they locked you in here. I don't see why any one should want to
steal that lamp though. Why it's not even gold,--nothing but copper."
"No, but then I think it must be Aladdin's magic lamp," Ellen explained.
She found that the gander had never even heard of the lamp and the
genie, so she told him all about it. She told him of its being a magic
lamp, and of how, if any one rubbed it a great genie would appear who
would do whatever he was told to do by the one who held the lamp.
"Well!" said the gander, drawing a long breath as she finished. "No
wonder they thought you wanted to steal it, if it's like that. Why it's
as good as a wishing stone."
"But of course I didn't want to take it," cried Ellen indignantly. "Why
didn't they ask me, and I'd have told them I didn't."
"Well, the great thing now is how are you to get out?" said the gander.
"Why don't you take me up on your wings and fly out of the window?"
The gander looked up doubtfully at the narrow slit where he had just
come in. "I'm afraid I can't. That window was a tight fit even for me,
and I never could get you through."
"Then what _am_ I to do?"
The gander thought for awhile. "Did you say that if you held that lamp
and rubbed it a genie would come?"
"Yes, I suppose he would."
"And he would do whatever you bade him?"
"Yes."
"Then the thing for you to do is to rub the lamp and when the genie
comes to tell him to set you free."
Ellen felt frightened at the idea of calling up a great black genie.
"But I couldn't reach the lamp away up there, even if I wanted to," she
said.
"No trouble about that," and the gander spread his wings, "I can help
you there." So saying, he flew up to where the shelf was. As he reached
it he struck at the lamp with his wing, but he missed it; again he
tried, and this time he just grazed it with his feathers; a third time
and then he struck it fairly and the lamp fell clattering and rattling
and rolled across the golden floor to Ellen's feet.
Trembling, the little girl picked it up.
"Rub it; rub it, Mistress," said the gander. "I hear the soldiers
coming."
But Ellen hesitated. "I'm afraid," she cried.
"Quick," and the gander flapped his wings in his excitement. "If they
catch you again you may never get away."
Then Ellen brushed her thumb across the side of the lamp.
[Illustration]
Immediately, and with a sound like a thunder-clap a terrible black
genie appeared before her. "What wouldst thou have?" he cried in a
great voice. "I am ready to obey thee as thy slave and the slave of all
those who have the lamp in their hands."
The little girl was so frightened at the sight of this terrible being
she had called up that she stood there unable to move.
"Speak, Mistress!" cried the gander, "for here come the soldiers."