He looked at her, puzzled.
"Dreams?" vaguely--"dreams? Why, dreams ain't--nothing."
"Oh, yes they is!" she insisted, her eyes flaming in misty radiance as
she sat staring beyond the shadows of the swamp. "Yes they is! There
ain't nothing but dreams--that is, nothing much.
"And over yonder behind the swamps is great fields full of dreams, piled
high and burning; and right amongst them the sun, when he's tired o'
night, whispers and drops red things, 'cept when devils make 'em black."
The boy stared at her; he knew not whether to jeer or wonder.
"How you know?" he asked at last, skeptically.
"Promise you won't tell?"
"Yes," he answered.
She cuddled into a little heap, nursing her knees, and answered slowly.
"I goes there sometimes. I creeps in 'mongst the dreams; they hangs
there like big flowers, dripping dew and sugar and blood--red, red
blood. And there's little fairies there that hop about and sing, and
devils--great, ugly devils that grabs at you and roasts and eats you if
they gits you; but they don't git me. Some devils is big and white, like
ha'nts; some is long and shiny, like creepy, slippery snakes; and some
is little and broad and black, and they yells--"
The boy was listening in incredulous curiosity, half minded to laugh,
half minded to edge away from the black-red radiance of yonder dusky
swamp. He glanced furtively backward, and his heart gave a great bound.
"Some is little and broad and black, and they yells--" chanted the girl.
And as she chanted, deep, harsh tones came booming through the forest:
"_Zo-ra! Zo-ra!_ O--o--oh, Zora!"
He saw far behind him, toward the shadows of the swamp, an old
woman--short, broad, black and wrinkled, with fangs and pendulous lips
and red, wicked eyes. His heart bounded in sudden fear; he wheeled
toward the girl, and caught only the uncertain flash of her
garments--the wood was silent, and he was alone.
He arose, startled, quickly gathered his bundle, and looked around him.
The sun was strong and high, the morning fresh and vigorous. Stamping
one foot angrily, he strode jauntily out of the wood toward the big
road.
But ever and anon he glanced curiously back. Had he seen a haunt? Or was
the elf-girl real? And then he thought of her words:
"We'se known us all our lives."
_Two_