When Nod opened his eyes again, he found himself blinking right into the
middle of a blazing fire, over which hung sputtering a huddled carcass
on a long black spit. Nod's head ached; his shoulder burned and
throbbed. He touched it gently, and found that it was swathed and bound
up with leaves that smelt sleepily sweet and cool. He looked around him
as best he could, but at first could see nothing, because of the
brightness of the flames. Gradually he perceived small grey creatures,
with big heads and white hands, that reached almost to the ground,
hastening to and fro. His smooth brown poll stood up stiff with terror
at sight of them, for he knew he must be lying in the earth-mounds of
the flesh-eating Minimuls.
[Illustration: THE WONDERSTONE.]
Memories one by one returned to him--the Bobberie, the river, the
yapping Coccadrilloes, the burning dart. One thing he could not
recall--how he came to be lying alone and helpless here in the
root-houses of these cunning enemies of all Mulgars, great and small. He
remembered the stories Mutta-matutta used to tell him of their snares
and poisons and enticements; of their earth-galleries and their horrible
flesh-feasts at the full moon. His one comfort was that he still lay in
his sheep's jacket, and felt his little Wonderstone pressed close
against his side.
When one of the Minimuls that stood basting the spit saw that Nod was
awake he summoned others who were standing near, and many stooped softly
over, staring at him, and whispering together. Nod put his finger to his
tongue, and said, "Walla!" One of them instantly shuffled away and
brought him a little gourd of a sweetish juice like Keeri, which greatly
refreshed him.
Then he called out, "Mulgars, Mulla-mulgars?" This, too, they seemed at
once to understand. For, indeed, Seelem had told Nod that these Minimuls
are nothing but a kind of Munza-mulgar, though their faces more closely
resemble the twilight or moonshine Mulgars, and for craft and greed the
dwarf Oomgar-nuggas, that long ago had trooped away beyond Arakkaboa.
Nod heard presently many faint voices, and then thick guttural cries of
pain and anger. And by turning a little his head he could see a host of
these mouse-faced mannikins tugging at a rope. At the end of this rope,
all bound up with Cullum, with sticky leaves plastered over their eyes,
and hung with dangling festoons of greenery and flowers, like
jacks-in-the-green, Thumb and Thimble hobbled slowly in from under an
earthen arch. Nod was weak with pain. He cried out hollowly to see his
brothers blind and helpless.
Thumb heard the sound, and answered him boldly in Mulgar-royal. "Is
that the voice of my brother, the Mulla-mulgar, Nizza-neela Ummanodda?"
"O Thumb!" Nod groaned, "why am I here in comfort, while you and Thimble
are dragged in, bound with Cullum, and hung all over with dreadful
leaves and flowers?"
"Have no fear, Prince of Bonfires," said Thumb with a laugh. "The
Minimuls caught us smelling at their Gelica-nuts, and sleeping in the
warmth of their earth-mounds. We were too frozen and hungry to carry you
any farther. They are fattening us for their Moon-feast. But it will be
little more than a picking of bones, Ummanodda. And even if they do spit
up over their fire, we will taste as sweet as Mulla-mulgars can." And he
burst out into such a squeal of angry laughter the Minimuls began
chattering again and waving their hands.
"Talk not of meat and bones to me, Thumb. If you die, I die too. Tell
me, only so that they do not understand, what is Nod to do."
Then Thimble, who was standing in the shadow, hobbled a little nearer
into the light of the fire, and lifting up his leaf-smeared face as if
to see, said: "Have no fear for yourself, Nod. They have caught us, but
not for long. But you they dare not frizzle a hair of, little brother,
because of Tishnar's Wonderstone sewn up in your sheep's-coat. They have
smelt out its magic. Keep the stone safe, then, Ummanodda, and, when you
are alone, rub it S[=a]maweeza as Mutta told you before she died.
Tishnar, perhaps, will answer. See only that none of these miching
mouse-faces are near. Had we but been awake when they found us!..."
But the Minimuls began to grow restless at all this palaver, for, though
the Munza-mulgar tongue is known to them, they cannot understand, except
a word here and there, the secret language of Mulgar-royal. So they laid
hold of the Cullum-ropes again, and lugged Thumb and Thimble back under
the sandy arch through which they had come. Thumb had only time enough
to cry in a loud voice, "Courage, Nizza-neela," before he was dragged
again out of sight and hearing.
And Nod remembered that when the Gunga-mulgar had led him down out of
his huddle to show him the Bobberie, the moon was shining then at
dwindling halves. So he knew that, unless many days had passed since
then, it would be some while yet before these Minimuls made their
cannibal Moon-feast. He lay still, with eyes half shut, thinking as best
he could, with an aching head and throbbing shoulder.
The firelight glanced on the earthy roof far above him. Here and there
the contorted root of some enormous forest-tree jutted out into the air.
There was a continued faint rustle around him, as of bees in a hive or
ants in a pine-wood. This was the shuffling of the Minimuls' shoes,
which are flat, like sandals, and made of silver grass plaited together,
that rustles on the sandy floor of their chambers and galleries. This
plaited grass they tie, too, round their middles for a belt or pouch,
beneath which, as they walk, their long lean tails descend. Their fur
shines faintly shot in moon or firelight, and is either pebble-grey or
sand-coloured. It never bristles into hair except about their polls and
chops, where it stands in a smooth, even wall, about one and a half to
two inches high, leaving the remnant of their faces light and bare.
They stand for the most part about three spans high in their grass
slippers. Their noses are even flatter than the noses of the Mullabruks.
Their teeth stand out somewhat, giving their small faces a cunning
mouse-look, which never changes. Their eyes are round and thin-lidded,
and almost as colourless as glass. Yet behind their glassiness seems to
be set a gleam, like a far and tiny taper shining, so that they are
perfectly visible in the dark, or even dusk. Thus may they be seen, a
horde of them together in the evening gloom of the forest when they go
Mulgar-hunting. When they are closely looked on, they can, as it were
within their eyes, shut out this gleam--it vanishes; but still they
continue to see, though dimly. By day their eyes are as empty as pure
glass marbles. Their smell is faintly rank, through eating so much
flesh. The she and young Minimuls feed in the deeper chambers of their
mounds, and never venture out.
Nod was falling into a nap from weariness and pain, when there came
spindling along an old sallow-hued Earth-mulgar, whose eyes were pink,
rather than glass-grey, like the others. He shook his head this way,
that way, muttering his magic over Nod; then, with a mottled gourd
beside him, he very gently and dexterously rolled back the strip or
bandage of leaves on Nod's shoulder, and peered close into his poisoned
wound. He probed it softly with his hairless fingers. Then out of the
pouch hanging on his stomach he took fresh leaves, smeared and stalked,
a little clay pot of green healing-grease, and anointed the sore. This
he rubbed ever so smoothly with his two middle fingers. After which he
bound all up again so skilfully with leaves and grass that it seemed to
Nod his wounded shoulder was the easiest and most comfortable part of
his body. Out of his pinkish eyes he gazed greedily into Nod's face for
a moment, and took his departure.
After he had gone, Nod smoothed his face, and with his own comb combed
himself as far as he could reach without pain. Presently shuffled along
two or three more of the Mouse-faces carrying roasted Nanoes and
Mambel-berries, and a kind of citron, like a Keeri, very refreshing;
also a little gourd of very thin Subbub. But, although he was too
wretched and too much afraid to be hungry, and shuddered at sight of the
Minimul food, Nod knew he must quickly grow strong if ever he and his
brothers were to reach the Valleys of Tishnar. So he ate and drank, and
was refreshed. Then he turned to a little sleek Minimul that tended him,
and asked him in Munza-mulgar: "Is it day--sunshine? Is it day?"
The little creature shook his head and shut his eyes, as if to signify
he did not understand the question.
Nod at that shut his eyes too, and laid his cheek on his lean little
hand, as if to say, "Sleep."
Thereupon eight thickish Minimuls came--four on either side--and hoisted
up by its handles the grass mat on which he lay, while others went
before, strewing dried leaves and a kind of forest-flower that smells
like mint when crushed, and carrying lanterns of candle-worms, while
others waddled with them, beating on little tambours of Skeeto-skin--all
this because Nod breathed magic, part his own, part his Wonderstone's.
They laid him down in a sandy chamber strewn with flowers. And, bowing
many times, their heads betwixt their rather bandy legs, they left him.
When they were gone, Nod wriggled softly up and looked about him. The
chamber was round and caved, and on the walls were still visible the
marks of the Minimuls' hands and scoops which had hollowed it out.
Through the roof a rugged root pierced, crossed over, and dipped into
the earth again. The candle-worms cast a gentle sheen on the golden
sanded walls. Hung from the roof were strings of dried flowers, shedding
so heavy and languid a smell in the narrow chamber that Nod's drowsy
eyelids soon began to droop. His bright eyes glanced like fireflies,
darting to and fro with his thoughts. But the odour of the flowers soon
soothed them all to rest. Nod fell asleep.
The next day (that is, the next Minimul day, which is Munza night) crept
slowly by. Nod was never left alone. Every hour the little
soft-shuffling Mouse-faces tended and fed and watched him, and burnt
little magic sticks around him. Three dead Skeetoes, with fast-shut
eyes, lay on the floor, shot by their poisoned darts in the dusk of the
evening, when he was carried into the big fire-chamber, or kitchen,
again. They were soon skinned and trussed by the hungry Minimuls, and
stretched along the spit. The smell of their roasting rose up in smoke.
At last came sleeping-time again. And then, when all was silent, Nod
rose softly from his grass-mat, and stealing down the low, narrow
earth-run, looked out into the kitchen where he had lain all day. The
fire was dying in faintly glowing embers. All was utterly still. But
which way should he go now, he wondered, to seek his brothers? And which
of these dark arches led to the open forest, the snow, and the
Assasimmon?
[Illustration: NOD WAS NEVER LEFT ALONE.]
His quick eyes caught sight of the thin smoke winding silently up from
the logs. Somewhere that must escape into the air. But on high it was so
dim he could scarcely see the roof, only the steep walls, ragged with
snake-skins, and the huge pods of the silky poison-seed. He crept
stealthily under one of the arches hung at the entrance with the dried
carcass of a little fierce-faced, snow-white Gunga cub, and presently
came to where, all in their sandy beds, with their tails curled up, side
by side in double rows, the mousey Earth-mulgars slept. He returned to
the kitchen, and called softly in the hollow cavern, "Thumb, Thumb!"
Only his own voice echoed back to him. Yet a sound feeble as this awoke
the light-sleeping Minimuls. For their mounds echo more than mere
hollowness would seem to make them. The lightest stir or footfall of
beast walking above in Munza may be heard. Nod had only just time enough
to scamper up his own narrow corridor and throw himself on his mat
before a score of shuffling footfalls followed, and he felt many glassy
eyes peering closely into his face.
All the rest of that night (and for the few nights that followed)
Minimuls stood behind his bed beating faintly on their skin Z[=o][=o]ts
or tambours, while two others sat one on each side of him with fans of
soporiferous Moka-wood. But though they might lull Nod's lids asleep,
they couldn't still his busy brain. He dreamed and dreamed. Now, in his
dreams he was come in safety to his Uncle Assasimmon's, and they were
all rejoicing at a splendid feast, and he was dressed in beads from neck
to heel, with a hat of stained ivory and a peacock's feather. Now he was
alone in the forest in the dark, and a Talanteuti was lamenting in his
ear, "N[=o][=o]m-anossi, N[=o][=o]m-anossi." And now it seemed he sat
beneath deep emerald waters in the silver courts of the Water-middens,
amid the long gold of their streaming hair. But he would awake babbling
with terror, only to smell the creeping odour on the air of broiling
Mulgar.
One day came many Earth-mulgars from distant mounds to see this Prince
of Magic whom their kinsmen had captured in the forest. They stared at
him, sniffed, bowed, and burned smoulder-sticks, and then were led off
to stare too at fat Thumb and fattening Thimble. And that same day the
Minimuls dragged into their kitchen a long straight branch of iron-wood,
which with much labour they turned by charring into a prodigious spit.
And Nod knew his hour was come, that there was no time to be lost.
When he had once more been carried on his mat into his own chamber or
sleeping-place, he drove out the drumming and fan-waving Minimuls,
making signs to them that their noise and odour drove sleep away instead
of charming it to him. He waited on and on, tossing on his mat,
springing up to listen, hearing now some forest beast tread hollowly
overhead, and now a distant cry as if of fear or anguish. But at last,
when all was still, he very cautiously fumbled and fumbled, gnawed and
gnawed with his sharp little dog-teeth, until in the dim light of his
worm-lantern peeped out the strange pale glowing milk-white Wonderstone,
carved all over with labyrinthine beast and bird and unintelligible
characters. It lay there marvellously beautiful, as if in itself it were
all Munza-mulgar, its swamps and forests and mountains lying tinied in
the pale brown palm of his hand, and as full of changing light as the
bellies of dead fishes in the dark. He got up softly, clutching the
stone tightly in his hand. He listened. He stole down his sandy gallery,
and stood, small and hairy, in his sheep-skin, peering out into the
great evil-smelling kitchen. Then he spat with his spittle on the stone,
and began to rub softly, softly, three times round with his left thumb
S[=a]maweeza, dancing lightly, and slowly the while, with eyes tight
shut and ears twitching.
And it seemed of a sudden as if all his care and trouble had been swept
away. A voice small and clear called softly within him: "Follow,
Ummanodda, follow! Have now no fear, Prince of Tishnar, Nizza-neela; but
follow, only follow!"
He opened his eyes, and there, hovering in the air, he saw as it were a
little flame, crystal clear below, but mounting to the colour of rose,
and shaped like a little pear. As soon as he looked at it it began
softly to stir and float away from him across the glowery kitchen. And
again the mysterious voice he had heard called softly: "Follow, Prince
of Tishnar, follow!" With shining eyes he hobbled warily after the
little flame that, burning tranquil in the air, about a span above his
head, was floating quietly on.
It led him past the gaunt black spit and the dying fire. It wafted
across the great kitchen to the fifth of the gloomy arches, and
stealthily as a shadow Nod stole after it. Under this arch and up the
shelving gallery gently slid the guiding flame. And now Nod saw again
the furry Earth-mulgars, lying on their stomachs in their sandy beds,
whimpering and snuffling in their sleep. On glided the flame; after it
crept Nod, scarcely daring to breathe. "Softly, now softly," he kept
muttering to himself. And now this gallery began to slope downward, and
he heard water dripping. A thin moss was growing on the stony walls. It
felt colder as he descended. But Nod kept his eyes fixed on the clear,
unswerving flame. And in the silence he heard a muffled groan, and a
harsh voice muttered drowsily, "Oo mutchee, nanga," and he knew Thumb
must be near.
The strange voice whispered: "Hasten, Ummanodda Nizza-neela; full moon
is rising!" Then Nod whimpering in his fear a little, like a cat, edged
on once more through a gallery where was laid up on sandy shelves a
great store of nuts and pods and skins and spits and sharp-edged flints.
And at last he came to where, in a filthy hollow, cold and lightless,
and oozing with dark-glistening water-drops, his brothers Thimble and
Thumb were sleeping. They were tied hand and foot with Samarak to the
thick root of a B[=o][=o]bab-tree, even their eyes bound up with sticky
leaves. Nod hobbled over and knelt down beside Thumb, and put his mouth
close to his ear. "Thumb, Thumb," says he, "it is Nod! Wake,
Mulla-mulgar; it is Nod who calls!" And he shook him by the shoulder.
Thumb stirred in his sleep and opened his mouth, so that Nod could see
the hovering flame glistening on his teeth. "Oohmah, oohmah," he
grunted, "na nasmi mutta kara theartchen!" Which means in Mulgar-royal:
"Sorry, oh sorry, don't whip me, mother dear!" And Nod knew he was
dreaming of long ago.
He shook him again, and Thumb, with a kind of groan, rolled over,
trembling, and seemed to listen. "Thumb, Thumb," Nod cried, "it's only
me; it's only Nod with the Wonderstone!" And while Nod was stripping off
the leaves and bandages which covered Thumb's eyes he told him
everything. "And don't cry out, Thumb, if Tishnar's flame burns your
shins. They've tied your legs in knots so tight with this tough Samarak,
my fingers can't undo them." So Thumb stretched out his legs, and
clenched his hands, while the flame stooped and came down, and burned
through the Samarak. He rubbed his poor singed shins where the flame had
scorched them. But now he stood up. Soon his arms were unbound, and
Thimble, too, was roused and unloosed, and they were all three ready to
tread softly out.
"Lead on, my wondrous fruit of magic!" said Nod.
The light curtsied, as it were, in the air, and glided up through the
doorway; and the three Mulla-mulgars crept out after it, Thumb and
Thimble on their fours, being too stiff to walk upright.
"Hasten, hasten, Mulla-mulgars!" said Nod softly. "The full moon is
shining; night is come. The pot is ready for the feast."
So one by one, with Nod's clear flame for guide, they trod noiselessly
up the sandy earth-run. It led them without faltering past the huddled
sleepers again; past, too, where the she-Minimuls lay cuddling their
tiny ones, and up into the big empty kitchen. Under another arch they
crept after it, along another gallery of rough steps, hollowed out of
the sandy rock, beneath great tortuous roots, through such a maze as
would have baffled a weasel.
And suddenly Thumb stopped and snuffed and snuffed again. "Immamoosa,
Immamoosa!" he grunted.
Almond and evening-blooming Immamoosa it was, indeed, which they could
smell, shedding its fragrance abroad at nightfall. And in a little while
out at last into the starry darkness they came, the great forest-trees
standing black and still around them, their huge boughs cloaked with
snow.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]