It was now, what with the snow and what with natural evening, growing
quickly dark. The birds had ceased to sing; only the Munza night-jar
rattled. Now near, now far away, the Mulla-mulgars heard the beasts of
the forest beginning to range and roar in the gloom. Nod buttoned up his
sheep's jacket, for there was a frost-mist beneath the trees. He was
cold, and began to be tired and very homesick. But Thumb was broad and
fat and prodigiously strong, Thimble lean and sinewy. And when Thumb saw
that Nod went stumbling under his bundle, he said: "Give it to me,
Mulla-jugguba!" (Prince of Bonfires). And Thimble laughed.
But Nod refused to give up his bundle, and trudged on behind his
brothers, until night came down in earnest. Then, when it was quite
dark, after listening and muttering together, they thought that if they
spent the night down here they would certainly sleep "in danger." So
Thumb clambered into a great Ollaconda-tree, and let down a rope or
twist of the thick creeper called Cullum, and drew up all three bundles.
Then Thimble pushed and Thumb pulled, and up went Nod, too stiff and
cold to climb up by himself, after the bundles, sheep's-jacket and all.
Then Thimble climbed up too. They made their supper of Mulgar-bread and
frost-cockled Mambel-berries, which are sour and quench the thirst, and
drank or sucked splinters of ice, plenty of which hung glassy in the
great, still, winter-troubled tree. And for fear of leopards (or
"Roses," as their Munza name signifies), they agreed to keep watch in
turn, Thumb first, then Thimble, then Nod. They tied their bundles to
the boughs, chose smooth forks to squat in, and soon Thimble was fast
asleep.
But when Nod found himself alone in the midst of the great icy tree in
the black forest, he could not sleep for thinking of it. He stroked his
face with his brown hand over and over to keep his eyes shut. He nuzzled
down into his sheep's-jacket. He counted his fingers again and again. He
repeated the lingo of the Seventy-seven Travellers from beginning to
end. It was in vain. Far and near he heard the cries and wanderings of
the forest beasts; the Ollaconda-tree was full of the nests of the
weaver-birds; and, worse still, soon Thimble began to snore so loud and
so sorrowfully that poor Nod trembled where he sat. He could bear
himself no longer. He stooped forward and called softly: "Thumb, my
brother, are you awake, Thumb?"
"Sleep on, little Ummanodda," said Thumb; "if I watch, I watch."
"But I cannot sleep," said Nod; "these weavers chatter so."
Thumb laughed. "Thimble sings in his dreams," he said. "Why shouldn't
the little tailors sing, too?"
"Do you think any leopards will come?" said Nod.
"Think good things, my brother, not bad," Thumb answered. "But this we
will do--wait a little while awake, and I will sleep, and as soon as
sleep begins to come, call me and wake me; then, little brother, you
shall sleep in peace till morning."
He put his head under his arm without waiting for an answer; and soon,
even louder and more dismal than Thimble's, rose Thumb's snoring into
the Ollaconda-tree.
Nod sat cold and stiff, his eyes stretched open, his ears twitching. And
a thin moonlight began to tremble between the leaves. The light cheered
his spirits, and he thought, "Nod will soon feel sleepy now," when
suddenly out of the gloom of the forest burst a sounder or drove of wild
pig, scuffling and chuggling beneath the tree. Peeping down, Nod could
just see them in the faint moonshine, with their long, black, hairy ears
and tufted tails.
And presently, while they were grubbing in the snow, one lifted up its
snout and cried in a loud voice: "Co-older--and colder!"
"Co-older--and colder," cried another.
"Co-older--and colder," cried a third. And all silently grubbed on as
before.
"The Queen of the Mountains is in the Forest," began the first again,
"with fingers of frost."
"And shoulders of snow."
[Illustration: "THE QUEEN OF THE MOUNTAINS IS IN THE FOREST ... WITH
FINGERS OF FROST."]
"And feet of ice," screamed the third.
"The Queen of the Mountains," they grunted all together; and went on
burrowing, and shouldering, and faintly squeaking.
"Hungrier and hungrier," cried one in a shrill voice, suddenly lifting
its head, so that Nod could see quite clearly its pale green, greedy
slits of eyes.
"Leaner and leaner," answered another.
"All the Sudd hid, all the Ukkas gone, all the B[=o][=o]bab frozen!"
squealed a third.
"The Queen of the Mountains is in the Forest," they grunted all
together. But the pig that had looked up into the tree was still
staring--staring and wrinkling his narrow snout, till at last all the
pigs stopped feeding. "Pigs, my brothers; pigs, my brothers," he
muttered. "Up in this tree are Mulgar three, which travellers be.... Ho,
there!" But Nod thought it best to make no answer. And the pig turned
round and beat with his hind-feet against the bole or trunk of the
Ollaconda. "Ho, there, little Mulgar in the sheep-skin coat!"
"If you beat like that, horny-foot, you'll wake my brothers," said Nod.
"Brothers!" said the pig angrily. "What's brothers to Ukka-nuts? What's
your names, and where are you going?"
"My brothers' names," said Nod, "are Thumma and Thimbulla, and I am Nod.
We are going to the palace of ivory and Azmamogreel that is our Uncle
Assasimmon's, Prince of the Valleys of Tishnar." At that all the pigs
began muttering together.
"Come down and tell us!" said a lean yellow pig; and as he snapped his
jaws Nod saw in the moonbeam the frost-light blinking on his bristles.
"Tell you what?" said Nod.
"About this Prince of Tishnar. Oh, these false-tongued Mulgars!" Nod
made no answer.
Then a fat old she-pig began speaking in a soft, pleasant voice. "You
must be very, very rich, Prince Nod, with those great bags of nuts; and,
surely, it must be royal Sudd I smell! And Assasimmon his uncle! whose
house is more than a thousand pigs'-tails long; and gardens so thick
with trees of fruit and honey, one groans to have only one stomach. Come
down a little way, Prince Nod, and tell us poor hungry pigs of the royal
Assasimmon and the dainty food he eats."
So pleasant was her flattering voice Nod thought there could not
possibly be any harm in scrambling down just one or two branches. And
though his fingers were still stiff with cold, he began to edge down.
"Oh, but bring a bundle--bring a bundle, little Prince. It's cold for
gentlefolk sitting in the snow."
"Pigs--pigs must naked go; but not for gentlefolk the snow," squealed
the herd shrilly.
"Come gently, Prince Nod; do not stir your royal brothers, Prince Nod!"
said the old crafty one.
Nod listened to her flattery, and, having untied his precious bundle, he
slid down with it softly to the ground.
"A seat--a seat for Prince Nod," cried the old sow. "Oh, what a royal
jacket--oh, what a handsome jacket!" So Nod sat down on his bundle in
the moonlight of the snow, and all the wild pig, scenting his Sudd,
pressed close--forty wild pig at least.
"Assasimmon, Assasimmon, Prince of Tishnar, Prince of Tishnar," they
kept grunting, and at every word they squeezed and edged closer and
closer, their hungry snouts in air--closer and closer, till Nod had to
hold tight to keep his seat; closer and closer, and again they began
squealing: "Pigs are hungry, brother Nod. Cakes of Sudd, cakes of
_Sudd_!" And then, like a great scrambling wave of pigs, they rushed at
him all together. Over went Nod into the snow. Scores of little sharp
hoofs scuttled over him. And when at last he was able to get up and look
about him, bruised and scratched and breathless, no trace of pigs was
there, no trace of bundle; every nut and crust of Sudd and crumb of
pulpy Mulgar-bread was gone. And suddenly came a loud, harsh voice out
of the tree. "Ho, ho, and ahôh! What's the trouble? what's the trouble?"
Nod looked up, and saw Thumb and Thimble staring down between their
out-stretched arms through the moon-silvery leaves. And he told them,
trembling, of how he could not sleep, and about the pigs and the bundle.
"O most wise Nizza-neela!" said Thumb when he had finished. "Last night
Mulla-jugguba; this night Nodda-nellipogo" (Prince of Bonfires, Noddle
of Pork). But Thimble was too sore to say anything, for his little
Exxswixxia-book of sorcery had been stuffed into Nod's bundle, and now
it was lost for ever. And they left Nod to climb up again by himself.
Once safely back on his fork, he was so tired and miserable that, with
his hands over his face, he fell almost directly fast asleep.
When he opened his small clear eyes again, sunrise was glinting here and
there through the green twilight on the icicles and snow in the trees.
He looked down, and saw Thumb and Thimble combing themselves. So down he
went, too, and took off his jacket, and skipped and frisked till he grew
warm. Then he, too, combed himself, and went and sat down beside his
brothers at the foot of the Ollaconda-tree to eat his morning's share of
musty nuts. At first his brothers sat angry and sullen, munching with
their great dog-teeth, and seeming to begrudge him every Ukka-nut he
cracked. But as the daybeams brightened, here where the trees grew not
so dense, and the birds, some wellnigh as small as acorns, flashed and
zigzagged, and Parrakeetoes squeaked and screamed in hundreds on the
branches, watching the three hungry travellers, they began to forget
Nod's supper with the pigs. And when they had eaten, into the gloom of
Munza they set out once more.
As a dog smells out the footsteps of his master so these Mulla-mulgars
seemed to smell out their way. No path was to be seen except where
pig-droves had rambled by, or droves of Mullabruks and packs of
Munza-dogs. And once Thumb, on a sudden, stood still, and pointed to the
ground, opening his great grinning mouth, with its little wall of
glistening teeth, and muttered, "Roses!" They stood together looking
down at the frozen footprints of a mother-leopard and her cubs in the
fresh-laid snow. Nod fancied, even, he could smell her breath on the icy
air. After this they went forward more warily, but carried their cudgels
with a bravery, looking very fierce in their red jackets and great caps
of furry skins. And, after a while, the huge trees gathered in again,
and soon arched loftily overhead as thick as thatch, so that it was all
in a cold and sluggish gloom they walked, like the dusk of coming
night. Nor, so thick was the leafy roof overhead, had any snow floated
into its twilight. Only a rare frost shimmered on the spiky husks of
fruit thrown down by the Tree-mulgars. Huge frozen ropes of Cullum and
wild Pepper dangled in knots and loops from bough to bough, and
sometimes a troop of Squirrel-tails or spidery Skeetoes swung lightly
down these hoar-frost ropes, chattering and scolding at the three
strangers. But though Thumb called to them in their own tongue.
"Ullalullaubbajub," or some such sounds as that, meaning, "We are
friends," they skipped off, hand, foot, and tail, into their leafy roofs
and shadows, afraid of these cudgel-carrying travellers in their red
jackets, who walked, like the dreaded Oomgar, heads in air.
Yet Nod was glad even of such company as this, so silent was the forest.
In this darkness they sat and ate their handful of food, with scorpions
and speckled tree-spiders watching them from their holes, not knowing
where the sun was, nor daring to kindle a fire with their fire-sticks
for fear of the tree-shadows. And at night they slept huddled close
together for warmth and safety, while Thumb and Thimble kept watch in
turn.
In this way many days passed almost without blink of sunlight. Once and
again they would sidle over some pig-track, or stand, with club in hand,
to watch a leopard pass. And often troops of Mulgars kept pace with them
awhile, swinging from branch to branch, and chattering threats at the
travellers. But most of the forest creatures, parched and famished by
such a cold as had never fallen on Munza-mulgar before, had been driven
down out of the forest in search of food and warmth. And often the
travellers were compelled to search the bark of the trees and in the
crevices of rocks and under stones, as do the Babbaboomas, and eat
whatever creeping things they could find. Beside the dangling Skeetoes,
and now and then father, mother, and chidderkins of some old sour-faced
mournful Mullabruk, they saw few things living, except the little
ivory-gnawing M'boko, Peekodillies, and poison-spiders. But many of
these, too, had died of cold and hunger. And now, instead of the pale
green and amber lamps of firefly and glowworm, burned only the fires of
Tishnar's frost. Birds rarely ventured down into this snowy shadowland,
except only the tiny Telateuties, blood-red as ladybirds, that ran
chittering up the trees. These birds haunt only where daylight rarely
steals, and it is said they talk with the tree-spirits, or giant
N[=o][=o]mas, that roam these shades.
At last, their feet sore with poison-needles, which sometimes pierced
clean through their thick skins, their eyes aching with the darkness,
the three travellers, on the eighth day, broke out of the dense forest
into broad daylight and shining snow again. Down and down they descended
into a frozen swampy valley. And about noon, half hidden in the fume and
steam of their own breath, they saw a great herd or muster of
Ephelantoes feeding. They stood in a line beyond Nod's counting--big,
middling-sized, and little--tearing down the rime-laden branches of the
trees, whose leaves and fruits they first warmed with their
bellows-breath before stuffing them into their mouths. The swampy ground
shook with their tramplings. Nod gazed in wonder as he and his brothers,
marching abreast, paced softly but doggedly on. And very soon the
watchful eyes, that glitter small in the great stone-coloured heads of
these mountainous beasts, perceived the red jackets moving betwixt the
grasses. And a silence came; the beasts stopped feeding.
"Meelm[=u]tha glaren djhar!" muttered Thumb.
So the Mulla-mulgars pushed quietly and bravely on, without turning
their heads or letting their eyes wander. For it is said that there is
nothing frets and angers these monsters so much as a watchful eye. They
leave their feeding and wallowing, even the big Shes their suckling.
Their great bodies trembling, they stand in disquiet and unrest if but
just one small clear eye beneath its lid be fixed too close or earnestly
upon them. Oomgars, Mulgars, leopards--even down to the brooding
Mullabruk, with its clay-coloured face--they abhor all scrutiny. But why
this is so I cannot say.
It may be, then, that Nod, in his first wonder, dwelt too lingeringly
with his eye on these Lords of Munza: for a behemothian bull-Ephelanto,
with one of his tusks broken, lurched forward through the long grasses,
his tail stock-stiff behind him, and stood in their path. And as the
Mulgar travellers passed him by, he wound his long, two-fingered trunk
round Nod's belly, shook him softly, and lifted him high above the sedge
into the air.
At this many other of the Ephelantoes stamped across the swamp and stood
in the mist around him. Nod's hand was in his pocket and pressed against
his slim thigh-bone, and there, hard and round, he felt as in a dream
his Wonderstone. And he caught back his fears, and thus, up aloft,
twenty feet or more between earth and sky, he twisted his head and said
softly: "Deal with the Nizza-neela gently, Lord of the Forest; we are
servants of Tishnar." At the sound of the name of Tishnar all the
Ephelantoes lifted up their trunks, and with a great blast trumpeted in
unison. Whereupon the bull-Ephelanto that had, half in sport, tossed Nod
up into the air set him gently on the earth again. And the three
brothers, hastening their hobbling pace a little, journeyed on once
more.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]