I
ONCE upon a beautiful summer night the men were watching their horses in
the meadow. And as they watched, they fell asleep. And as they slept,
the fairies flew out of the clouds to have some sport with the horses,
as is the fairies’ way. Each fairy caught a horse, mounted it, and then
whipped it with her golden hair, urging it round and round the dewy
meadow.
Among the fairies there was one quite young and tiny, called Curlylocks,
who had come down to earth from the clouds for the first time that
night.
Curlylocks thought it lovely to ride through the night like a whirlwind.
And it so happened that she had got hold of the most spirited horse of
all—a Black—small, but fierce as fire. The Black galloped round and
round with the other horses, but he was the swiftest of all. Soon he was
all in a lather of foam.
But Curlylocks wanted to ride faster still. She bent down and pinched
the Black’s right ear. The horse started, reared, and then bolted
straight ahead, leaving behind the rest of the horses, the meadow and
all, as he flew away like the wind with Curlylocks into the wide, wide
world.
Curlylocks thoroughly enjoyed her lightning ride. The Black went like
the wind, by field and by river, by meadow and mountain, over dale and
hill. “Good gracious! what a lot of things there are in the world!”
thought Curlylocks, full of delight as she looked at all the pretty
sights. But what pleased her best was when they came through a country
where there were mountains all covered with glorious forests, and at the
foot of the mountains two golden fields like two great gold kerchiefs,
and in the midst of them two white villages, like two white doves, and a
little further on a great sheet of water.
[Illustration]
But the Black would not stop, neither there nor anywhere, but rushed on
and on as if he were possessed.
So the Black carried Curlylocks far and far away till at last they came
to a great plain, with a cold wind blowing over it. The Black galloped
into the plain, and there was nothing there but yellow sand, neither
trees nor grass, and the further they went into that great waste, the
colder it grew. But how large that plain is, I cannot tell you, for the
good reason that the man does not live who could cross it.
The Black ran on with Curlylocks for seven days and seven nights. The
seventh day, just before sunrise, they reached the centre of the plain,
and in the centre of the plain they found the ruinous walls of the
terribly great city of Frosten, and there it is always bitterly cold.
As the Black raced up to the ancient gates of Frosten, Curlylocks threw
her magic veil on the wall, and so caught hold of the wall. The Black
galloped away from under her, and so continued his wild career up to his
old age to and fro between the huge walls of Frosten, till at last he
found the northern gate and galloped out again into the plain—God knows
whither!
But Curlylocks came down from the wall and began to walk about the city,
and it was cold as cold! Her magic veil, without which she could not fly
among the clouds, she wound about her shoulders, for she took great care
of it. And so Curlylocks walked and walked about the city of Frosten,
and all the time she felt as if she must come upon something very
wonderful in this city, which was so marvellous and so great. However,
nothing did she see but only great crumbling walls, and nothing did she
hear but now and again a stone cracking with the cold.
Suddenly, just as Curlylocks had turned the corner of the very biggest
wall, she saw, fast asleep at the foot of the wall, a huge man, bigger
than the biggest oak in the biggest forest. The man was dressed in a
huge cloak of coarse linen, and the strap he wore for a belt was five
fathoms long. His head was as big as the biggest barrel, and his beard
was like a shock of corn. He was so big, that man, you might have
thought there was a church tower fallen down beside the wall!
This giant was called Reygoch, and he lived at Frosten. All he did was
to count the stones of the city of Frosten. He could never have finished
counting them but for that huge head of his, as big as a barrel. But he
counted and counted—he had counted for a thousand years, and had already
counted thirty walls and five gates of the city.
When Curlylocks spied Reygoch, she clasped her hands and wondered. She
never thought there could be such an immense creature in the world.
So Curlylocks sat down by Reygoch’s ear (and Reygoch’s ear was as big as
the whole of Curlylocks), and called down his ear:
“Aren’t you cold, daddy?”
Reygoch woke up, laughed, and looked at Curlylocks.
“Cold? I should think I was cold,” answered Reygoch, and his voice was
as deep as distant thunder. Reygoch’s big nose was all red with the
cold, and his hair and beard were all thick with hoar-frost.
“Dear me!” said Curlylocks, “you’re such a big man, and you aren’t going
to build yourself a roof to keep out the cold?”
“Why should I?” said Reygoch, and laughed again. “The sun will be out
presently.”
Reygoch heaved himself up so as to sit. He sat up. He clapped his left
shoulder with his right hand, and his right shoulder he clapped with the
left hand, so as to beat out the hoar-frost; and the hoar-frost came off
each shoulder as if it were snow slipping off a roof!
“Look out! look out, daddy! you’ll smother me!” cried Curlylocks. But
Reygoch could scarcely hear her, because it was a long way from
Curlylocks to his ear, so big was he when he sat up.
So Reygoch lifted Curlylocks on to his shoulder, told her his name and
his business, and she told him how she had come.
“And here comes the sun,” said Reygoch, and pointed for Curlylocks to
see.
Curlylocks looked, and there was the sun rising, but so pale and feeble,
as if there were no one for him to warm.
“Well, you are a silly, Reygoch!” said Curlylocks—“you are really silly
to live here and spend your life counting these tiresome stones of
Frosten. Come along, Reygoch, and see how beautiful the world is, and
find something more sensible to do.”
Now it had never occurred to Reygoch to want a finer home for himself
than Frosten city, nor had he ever thought that there might be better
work than his in the world. Reygoch always thought, “I was meant to
count the stones of Frosten,” and had never asked for anything better.
Curlylocks, however, gave him no peace, but persuaded him to come out
and see the world with her.
“I’ll take you to a lovely country,” said Curlylocks, “where there is an
ancient forest, and beside the forest two golden fields.”
Curlylocks talked for a long time. And old Reygoch had never had anybody
to talk to, and so he couldn’t resist persuasion.
“Well, let’s go!” said he.
Curlylocks was mightily pleased with this.
But now they had to contrive something, so that Reygoch could carry
Curlylocks, because Reygoch himself had nothing.
So Curlylocks drew out from her bosom a little bag of pearls. It was her
mother who had given Curlylocks these pearls before allowing her to go
down to earth, and told her: “If you ever should need anything, just
throw down a pearl, and it will turn into whatever you want. Be very
careful of those pearls, because there are so many things in the world
that you will want more and more as you go on.”
Curlylocks took out a tiny seed-pearl, threw it down, and lo, before
their eyes there grew a little basket, just as big as Curlylocks, and
the basket had a loop attached, just big enough to fit Reygoch’s ear.
Curlylocks jumped into the basket; and Reygoch picked up the basket and
hung it on his ear like an ear-ring!
Whenever Reygoch laughed, whenever he sneezed or shook his head,
Curlylocks rocked as if she were in a swing; and she thought it a
capital way of travelling.
So Reygoch started to walk, and had already taken a ten-yard stride,
when Curlylocks stopped him, and begged:
“Couldn’t we go underground, perhaps, Reygoch dear, so that I might see
what there is under the earth?”
“Why not?” answered Reygoch; for he could break into the earth as easy
as fun, only it had never entered his head to look what might be
underground.
But Curlylocks wanted to know everything about everything, and so they
agreed to travel underground until they should arrive under the forest
by the golden fields, and there they would come up.
When they had settled that, Reygoch began to break up the earth. He
lifted up his great feet and stamped for the first time, and at that the
whole of the great city of Frosten shook and a great many walls tumbled
down. Reygoch raised his feet a second time and stamped again, and the
whole plain quaked. Reygoch raised his feet a third time and stamped,
and lo, half the world trembled, the solid earth gaped under Reygoch,
and Reygoch and Curlylocks fell into the hole and down under the earth.
When they got there, they found the earth all honeycombed with pillars
and passages on every side, and heaven alone knew where they all led to.
And they could hear waters rushing and the moaning of the winds.
They followed one of the passages, and for awhile they had light from
the hole through which they had fallen. But as they went on it grew
darker and darker—black darkness, such as there is nowhere save in the
bowels of the earth.
Reygoch tramped calmly on in the dark. With his great hands he felt his
way from pillar to pillar.
But Curlylocks was frightened by the great darkness.
She clung to Reygoch’s ear and cried: “It’s dark, Reygoch dear!”
“Well, and why not?” returned Reygoch. “The dark didn’t come to us. It’s
we have come to it.”
Then Curlylocks got cross, because Reygoch never minded anything and she
had expected great things from so huge a man.
“I should be in a nice fix with you but for my pearls,” said Curlylocks
quite angrily.
Then she threw down another pearl, and a tiny lantern grew in her hand,
bright as if it were lit with gold. The darkness crept back deeper into
the earth, and the light shone far through the underground passages.
Curlylocks was delighted with her lantern, because it showed up all the
marvels which had been swallowed by the earth in days of old. In one
place she saw lordly castles, with doors and windows all fretted with
gold and framed in red marble. In another place were warriors’ weapons,
slender-barrelled muskets and heavy scimitars studded with gems and
precious stones. In a third place she saw long-buried treasures, golden
dishes and silver goblets full of gold ducats, and the Emperor’s very
crown of gold three times refined. All these treasures had been
swallowed up by God’s will, and it is God’s secret why so much treasure
should lie there undisturbed.
[Illustration]
But Curlylocks was quite dazzled with all these marvels; and instead of
going straight ahead by the way they had settled upon, she begged
Reygoch to put her down so that she might play about a little and admire
all the strange things and gaze upon the wonders of God’s secret.
So Reygoch set Curlylocks down, and Curlylocks took her little lantern
and ran to the castles, and to the weapons, and to the treasure-hoards.
And lest she might lose her little bag of pearls while she was playing,
she laid it down beside a pillar.
As for Reygoch, he sat down to rest not far off.
Curlylocks began to play with the treasures; she looked at the beautiful
things and rummaged among them. With her tiny hands she scattered the
golden ducats, examined the goblets chased in silver, and put upon her
head the crown of gold three times refined. She played about, looked
round and admired, and at last caught sight of a very slender little
ivory staff propped up against a mighty pillar.
But it was just that slender staff that kept the mighty pillar from
collapsing, because the pillar was already completely hollowed out by
the water. And therefore God had caused that little staff to fall down
there, and the staff held up the pillar under the earth.
But Curlylocks wondered:
“Why is that little staff just there?” And she went and picked up the
staff to look at it.
But no sooner had Curlylocks taken the staff and moved it than the
subterranean passages re-echoed with a terrible rumbling noise. The
great pillar trembled, swayed and crashed down amid a whole mountain of
falling earth, closing and blocking up the path between Reygoch and
Curlylocks. They could neither see nor hear one another, nor could they
reach one another....
There was the poor little fairy Curlylocks caught in the bowels of the
earth! She was buried alive in that vast grave, and perhaps would never
again see those golden fields for which she had set out, and all because
she would not go straight on by the way they had intended, but would
loiter and turn aside to the right and to the left to pry into God’s
secrets!
Curlylocks wept and cried, and tried to get to Reygoch. But she found
that there was no way through, and that her plight was hopeless; and as
for the bag of pearls, which might have helped her, it was buried under
the landslide.
When Curlylocks realised this she stopped crying, for she was proud, and
she thought: “There is no help for it, and I must die. Reygoch won’t
come to my rescue, because his wits are too slow even to help himself,
let alone to make him remember to help me. So there is nothing for it,
and I must die.”
So Curlylocks prepared for death. But in case folk should ever find her
in her grave she wanted them to know that she came of royal blood. So
she set the crown of gold three times refined upon her head, took the
ivory staff in her hand, and lay down to die. There was no one beside
Curlylocks except her little lantern, burning as if it were lit with
gold; and as Curlylocks began to grow cold and stiff, so the lantern
burned low and dim.
Reygoch was really an old stupid. When the pillar crashed down and there
was the big landslide between him and Curlylocks he never moved, but sat
still in the dark. Thus he sat for quite a long time, before it occurred
to him to go and find out what had happened.
He felt his way in the dark to the spot where Curlylocks had been,
groped about, and realised that the earth had subsided there and that
the passage was indeed blocked.
“Eh, but that way is choked up now,” considered Reygoch. And nothing
else could he think of, but turned round, left the mound of fallen earth
and Curlylocks beyond it, and went back by the road they had travelled
from Frosten city.
* * * * *
Thus old Reygoch went his way, pillar by pillar. He had already gone a
goodish bit; but there was all the time something worrying him. Reygoch
himself couldn’t imagine what it was that worried him.
He arranged the strap around his waist—perhaps it had been too tight;
and then he stretched his arm—perhaps his arm had gone to sleep. Yet it
was neither the one nor the other, but something else that worried.
Reygoch wondered what in the world it could be. He wondered, and as he
wondered he shook his head.
And as Reygoch shook his head, the little basket swung at his ear. And
when Reygoch felt how light the basket was, and that there was no
Curlylocks inside, a bitter pang shot through his heart and breast,
and—simpleton though he was—he knew well enough that he was grieved
because he missed Curlylocks, and he realised also that he ought to save
her.
It had taken Reygoch a lot of trouble to think out all that; but once he
had thought it out, he turned like the wind and flew back to the place
where the landslide was, to find Curlylocks behind the heap of earth. He
flew, and arrived just in time. Reygoch burrowed away with both hands,
and in a little while he had burrowed a big hole, so that he could see
Curlylocks lying there, the crown of fine gold on her head. She was
already growing cold and rigid, with her little lantern beside her, and
the flame of it as feeble as the tiniest little glow-worm.
If Reygoch had cried out in his grief the earth would have rocked, and
the little lantern would have gone out altogether—even the little
glow-worm light by the side of Curlylocks would have died away.
But Reygoch’s throat was all tight with pain, so that he could not cry
out. He put out his great big hand and gently picked up poor Curlylocks,
who was already quite cold, and warmed her between the hollowed palms of
his huge hands as you would warm a starved dicky-bird in winter. And lo!
in a little while Curlylocks moved her little head, and at once the
lantern burned a little brighter; and then Curlylocks moved her arm, and
the lantern burned brighter still. At last Curlylocks opened her eyes,
and the lantern burned as brightly as if its flame were pure gold!
Then Curlylocks jumped to her feet, caught hold of Reygoch’s beard, and
they both of them cried for pure joy. Reygoch’s tears were as big as
pears and Curlylocks’ as tiny as millet-seed, but except for size they
were both the same sort; and from that moment these two were mightily
fond of one another.
When they had finished their cry, Curlylocks found her pearls, and then
they went on. But they touched no more of the things they saw
underground, neither the sunken ships with their hoards of treasure,
which had worked their way down from the bottom of the sea, nor the red
coral, nor the yellow amber which twined round the underground pillars.
They touched nothing, but went straight along by the way that would take
them to the golden fields.
When they had gone on thus for a long time, Curlylocks asked Reygoch to
hold her up; and when he did so, Curlylocks took a handful of earth from
above her head.
She took the earth, looked at her hand, and there, among the soil, she
found leaves and fibres.
“Here we are, daddy, under the forest beside the golden fields,” said
Curlylocks. “Let’s hurry up and get out.”
So Reygoch stretched himself and began to break through the earth with
his head.