Meantime the people who had buried Miloika noticed that the Eagle had
carried off Lavender. At first they all burst out lamenting, but then
one of them said:
“Good people, it is really as well that the Eagle carried off Lavender.
It would have been hard to find someone in the village who could take
charge of the _two_ children. But for Primrose alone we shall easily
find someone who will look after him.”
“Yes, yes,” the others all immediately agreed, “it is better so. We can
easily look after Primrose.”
They stood yet awhile outside the cabin gazing in the direction towards
which the Eagle had disappeared with Lavender into the skies, and then
they went back indoors to drink and to talk, repeating all the time:
“There’s not one of us but will be glad to take Primrose.”
So they said. But not one of them troubled so much about Primrose as to
offer him a drink of water, although it was very hot. Now Primrose was
thirsty and went in to ask for water. But he was so tiny that not one of
those people could understand what he said. Primrose wanted someone to
get him his little wooden mug; but not one of those people knew that
Primrose’s little wooden mug was behind the beam.
When Primrose saw all this, he looked round the room for a moment, and
then the child thought: “This is no good to me. I am left all alone in
the world.” So he leaned over the pitcher that stood on the floor, drank
as much water as he could, and then set out to see if he could find his
little sister Lavender.
He went out of the house and set off towards the sun—the direction in
which he had seen the Eagle fly away with Lavender.
V
The sun was setting beyond Mount Kitesh, and so Primrose, always looking
at the sun, presently came to Mount Kitesh, too. There was no one beside
Primrose to say to him: “Don’t go up the Mountain, child! The Mountain
is full of terrors.” And so he went on, poor, foolish baby, and began to
climb up the Mountain.
But Primrose did not know what fear was. His mother had kept him safe
like a flower before the altar, so that no harm, not even the smallest,
had ever befallen him; he had never been pricked by a thorn, nor scared
by a harsh word.
And so no fear could enter Primrose’s heart, no matter what his eyes
beheld or his ears heard.
Meantime, Primrose had got well up into the Mountain and already reached
the first rocks and crags.
And there, below Share-spoil, the Votaress Fairies were all assembled
and still discussing how Klickoon had cheated them. Suddenly they saw a
child coming towards them, climbing up the Mountain. The Votaresses were
delighted; it would be easy to deal with such a little child!
As Primrose came nearer, the Votaresses went down to meet him. In less
than no time they had surrounded him. Primrose only wondered when he
suddenly saw so many ladies coming towards him, each with a great pair
of wings! One of the Votaresses went close up to the child to take him
by the hand.
Now Primrose was wearing the little Cross round his neck. When the Fairy
saw the Cross, she screamed and started away from Primrose, for she
could not touch him because of the Cross.
But the Fairies had no intention of letting the child off so easily.
They hovered about him in a wide circle and conferred softly about what
was to be done with him.
Little Primrose’s heart was untroubled within him. The Fairies
conferred, and their thoughts were so black that they came out in a
cloud of black forest wasps buzzing round their heads. But Primrose just
looked at them, and as he could see no harm in them, how was he to be
frightened? On the contrary, the wings of one of the Votaresses took his
fancy, flapping like that, and so he toddled up to her to see what she
was really like.
“That will do nicely,” thought the Votaress. “I cannot touch him, but I
will entice him into the Wolf’s Pit.”
For near by there was a pit all covered over with boughs, so that you
could not see it; and the bottom of the pit was full of horrible stakes
and spikes. Whoever stepped on the boughs was bound to fall through and
kill himself on the spikes.
So the Votaress Fairy enticed Primrose to the Wolf’s Pit, always
slipping away from him, and he always following to see what her wings
really were. And so they came to the Pit. The Fairy flew over the Pit;
but poor little misguided Primrose stepped on the boughs and fell down
the hole.
The Votaresses shrieked for joy, and hurried up to see the child perish
on the spikes.
But what do Fairies know about a baby!
Primrose was light as a chicken. Some of the boughs and branches fell
down with him, the branches covered the spikes, and Primrose was so
small and light that he came to rest upon the leaves as if they had been
a bed.
When Primrose found himself lying down upon something soft, he thought:
“I suppose I had better go to sleep!” So he tucked his little hand under
his head and went sound asleep, never thinking that he was caught in a
deep hole and could not get out.
Round him there were still many bare spikes, and the wicked Fairies were
bending over the Pit. But Primrose slept peacefully and quietly, as
though he were bedded on sweet basil. Primrose never moved. His mother
had taught him: “When you are in your bed, darling, shut your little
eyes and lie quite still, so as not to frighten your guardian angel.”
So the Fairies stood round the Pit, and saw the baby falling asleep like
a little duke in his golden crib. “That child is not so easy to deal
with, after all,” said the Votaresses. So they flew off to Share-spoil,
and took counsel as to how they might kill him, since they could not
touch him because of the little Cross.
They argued and argued, and at last one of the Votaresses had an idea.
“We will raise a storm,” said she; “we will cause a terrific rain. A
torrent will pour down the Mountain, and the child will be drowned in
the Pit.”
“Whoo-ee, whoo-ee!” howled the Votaresses. They flapped their wings for
joy, and at once rose up into the air and above the Mountain to roll up
the clouds and raise a storm.