them. At this the Prince, feeling sure that the giant bird meant to take
him to the Princess, climbed up and seated himself between the great
wings.
In another moment the bird had launched itself from the farther opening
of the cave, and they were soon sailing high over the valley. Some
revellers in the city looked up and saw what they took to be a meteor
flashing across the sky; but it was really the Fire Bird bearing the
Prince swiftly to the far-off palace of the Princess.
How many thousands of miles they flew between the darkest hour and dawn,
the Prince could not tell. Nestling warm and comfortable among the soft
feathers, he heard the roar of the great creature's wings, and knew they
were travelling at a tremendous pace. And at last the Fire Bird craned
its neck downwards, and, as they began to descend in a slanting
direction, the Prince could see something sparkling on the horizon in
the first rosy light of dawn.
Nearer and nearer they came, and now he could distinguish the great
gates and towers of what seemed to be a palace of pure crystal,
surrounded by beautiful gardens.
Swiftly they swooped downwards, and the Fire Bird alighted on the edge
of a broad balcony, and crouched down for the Prince to dismount.
The journey had not been in vain. There, on a mossy bank among the
beautiful flowers in the garden, he found the Princess asleep; and, as
he looked down at her, he saw that her face was the face he had seen in
the portrait.
He tried to wake her, but her sleep was sound: she did not stir. He
breathed on her eyelids and whispered in her ear, but still she slept
on.
Seeing this, the Bird grew restless, and craning its neck forward,
seized the Prince with its beak and placed him again between its wings.
Then it sprang upwards and soared swiftly into the sky.
Soon they were back in the cave, and the Prince, dreading to return to
the prison tower, spent the hours of daylight in his warm nest between
the Fire Bird's wings.
The following night, as the hours were drawing on towards dawn, the Bird
set forth again. But again the Prince was unable to wake the sleeping
Princess, so they returned once more. But, on the third night, when they
reached the Princess, the light of dawn was in the sky, and, as it grew
every moment rosier and rosier, the Princess awoke of her own accord to
find the young Prince sitting among the flowers by her side. She had
only just time to see the Fire Bird pluck a feather from its wing with
its beak, and let it fall at her feet, before it soared away. She picked
up the feather and placed it in her bosom. Then she looked at the
Prince.
There is love, and there is love; but such love as sprang up at the same
moment in two hearts can never be described. It was as if she had been
dreaming about him all her life, and now she had awakened to find him.
It was as if his journey had been to Paradise. She raised her arms to
him, and he enfolded her and kissed her. Then they wandered among the
flowers and trees, and all the birds understood: they sang so divinely.
Towards evening, as the shadows began to fall, the Princess's sister,
who was a wicked Sorceress, came into the garden and stood behind a tree
watching the lovers.
'I'll soon put an end to this,' she said, clenching her hands in jealous
rage. She went away and performed spells, and, by her wicked arts, she
summoned the image of the Prince before her, so that his life went out
of his body, and he remained in the Princess's arms like one dead.
Terrified and distracted with grief, the Princess carried the lifeless
body of her lover into the palace and laid it on a couch in her own
apartment. There, exhausted with the effort, she fell upon it, weeping
bitterly. She called his name, but he did not answer. His ears were
deaf, his eyes were closed, his pale lips did not respond to her kisses.
But the Prince was not dead: he was bewitched. The Sorceress, by means
of his image, had torn his heart from his breast and had taken it far
away. Yet, all the time, that heart was still beating with life, and
with love for the Princess.
Forlorn and sorrowful the Princess sat by the couch, when suddenly she
started up with clenched hands.
'I know! I know!' she cried. Then she bent down and kissed the Prince's
lips. She felt them tremble against hers, and, though she could not call
him back, she knew that he was not dead. 'Oh! my wicked sister! This is
your work. You have bewitched my love! Never again! This is the end!'
She ran everywhere, in and about the palace, in search of her sister,
her hands clenched, her eyes blazing, her teeth set. But she could not
find her. At last a page, terrified to death at her aspect, confessed
that her sister had fled from the palace alone, mounted on the fleetest
steed of the stables.
The Princess at once resolved to follow her and force her to restore
the Prince to life and health. But, at the very outset, there was a
terrible difficulty to be surmounted. The Princess herself had never
been beyond the walls that encircled the vast grounds of the palace. She
knew that there were twelve gates, and that only one of these was left
unlocked from sunset till sunrise, and that none could tell which one it
might be. Now the law of the palace permitted her to try one gate each
night, and one gate only.
She sat down and thought, and then decided to try the same gate each
night until it happened to be the right one. For twelve nights she
tried, but each time she found the gate locked and barred.
Then she suddenly remembered that, when the Fire Bird had brought the
Prince to her, it had plucked a bright feather from its wing and let it
fall at her feet. She had preserved it in a golden casket. Could it be
that this feather had magic powers? She ran with all haste to her
apartment, and took it from the casket. As she did so, it sparkled and
quivered. As she held it up she was more than ever convinced that it
held magic powers.
She looked at the feather, and she thought of the Fire Bird itself, and
wished that it could only come and advise her what to do.
Scarcely had she conceived the wish, when a faint sound from far away
struck upon her ears. As she listened, it grew louder and louder, and
nearer and nearer, until at last she knew it was the roar of the Fire
Bird's wings. She ran out onto the balcony, and there she saw it, like a
meteor in the sky, every moment growing bigger.
At last, with a glad, shrill cry, it swooped down, and its giant wings
fluttered and vibrated a moment before it alighted on the edge of the
balcony, its fiery golden light sparkling on the crystal pillars and
shimmering in the air all around.
The Princess held up the feather, and the Fire Bird bowed its head
slowly three times. Then it suddenly turned round as if to fly away, but
looked back at her, and raised its wings, and fluffed out the soft,
glistening feathers in the hollow of its back. Arching its head round,
it began to act as if it were preparing a nest for her between its
wings, and the Princess saw plainly that it was only waiting for her to
seat herself there before flying away. The Bird knew what she wanted;
she was sure of that. So she mounted between the wings, and nestled down
on a soft feather bed of dazzling golden light, warm and comfortable.
Then, with a long, jubilant cry the Bird rose in the air, and, craning
its neck westward, flashed through space at a terrific rate.
Very soon they overtook the setting sun, passed it, and left it sinking
on the horizon as they went on into the purlieus of the Land of Night
and Silence, which lies beyond the great round shoulder of the world.
And here the Fire Bird blazed along, leaving a trail of light in its
wake and throwing a radiance on the hills and forests over which it
passed; until it came, by way of the Valley-which-has-no-Borders, to the
Forest-without-an-End.
Here the Bird swooped downwards and alighted before a black-mouthed
cave. He crouched while the Princess dismounted. As she did so, the Bird
plucked two fresh feathers from its wing with its beak and held them out
to her. They shed a brilliant light, and she, seeing at once that they
would serve as lamps, took them, one in each hand, and advanced into the
gloomy cave.
She had not gone far when she heard a voice crooning a witch song, and,
peering round the edge of a rock, she espied her sister seated beside a
cauldron, beneath which was a freezing fire fed with blocks of frozen
brine.
From the witch song her sister was singing, the Princess learned that
her lover's heart was in the cauldron. She listened while the Sorceress
sang:
_'Seethe! Seethe! Heart of her lover,
Beating in tune with mine.
Never the two their love can recover,
Never their arms entwine.
Freeze! Freeze! Heart in this cauldron,
Seared by the frozen brine!'_
[Illustration: THE FIRE BIRD
With a scream the Princess rushed forward, and before her wicked sister
could prevent her, she had upset her cauldron with a crash.
_See page 168_]
With a scream the Princess rushed forward, and, before her wicked sister
could prevent her, she had upset the cauldron with a crash. Some of the
icy fire of brine splashed up in the face of the Sorceress, and with a
loud, grating shriek, she fell to the ground senseless--dead!
The Princess snatched up her lover's heart, and placed it in her bosom
against her own, where she could feel it still beating. Then, without
waiting another moment, she ran back to the Fire Bird, and sprang upon
its back with a cry of joy, patting its neck and stroking its feathers.
Up in the sky they soared again, and away over the world towards the
palace in the Home of the Dawn. And, as they neared their destination,
the Princess suddenly missed something. Quickly she felt in her bosom to
see if the heart of her lover was safe; but lo, it was gone! It seemed
to have grown warm and melted right away.
Distressed at this, she urged the Fire Bird to still greater speed,
until his track through the sky was like that of a shooting star. At
length they swooped down and alighted on the balcony of the palace. The
roaring of the Fire Bird's wings was stilled, but the hum of its
feathers continued--a throbbing pulsation of musical sound.
As the Princess alighted, the Prince himself came running to her. Then,
with a mingled cry of delight, the lovers leapt to greet each other,
and, when they were enfolded in each other's arms, the Fire Bird
discreetly turned his head away and preened his tail feathers.
The Princess did not trouble about her lover's heart which she had taken
from the Sorceress and missed on the way. She now felt it beating
against her own, and knew that it was in its right place. The Prince was
free from the wicked spell at last.
* * * * *
The Fire Bird's work was done. Without a word he sprang into the air,
and was soon lost to sight. And the lovers did not hear him go, for, by
some mysterious power, he hushed his wings and went secretly, for, as
you must have seen, he was really a very old bird.
The Prince and the Princess were married very soon, and, during the
celebrations, the Fire Bird was seen to circle thrice every night round
the palace, but he never settled.
As King and Queen of the People of the Dawn, they reigned for long
years, and the Fire Bird was always their friend. On every anniversary
of their wedding day, they awoke to the sound of his roaring wings. He
always brought a present; and do you know what it was? Just a single
feather of his shining wing, so that they might obtain whatever joy they
wished for.
THE STORY OF THE BIRD FENG
A CHINESE FAIRY TALE
In the Book of the Ten Thousand Wonders there are three hundred and
thirty-three stories about the bird called _Feng_, and this is one of
them.
Ta-Khai, Prince of Tartary, dreamt one night that he saw in a place
where he had never been before an enchantingly beautiful young maiden
who could only be a princess. He fell desperately in love with her, but
before he could either move or speak, she had vanished. When he awoke he
called for his ink and brushes, and, in the most accomplished
willow-leaf style, he drew her image on a piece of precious silk, and in
one corner he wrote these lines:
The flowers of the pæony
Will they ever bloom?
A day without her
Is like a hundred years.
He then summoned his ministers, and, showing them the portrait, asked if
any one could tell him the name of the beautiful maiden; but they all
shook their heads and stroked their beards They knew not who she was.
So displeased was the prince that he sent them away in disgrace to the
most remote provinces of his kingdom. All the courtiers, the generals,
the officers, and every man and woman, high and low, who lived in the
palace came in turn to look at the picture. But they all had to confess
their ignorance. Ta-Khai then called upon the magicians of the kingdom
to find out by their art the name of the princess of his dreams, but
their answers were so widely different that the prince, suspecting their
ability, condemned them all to have their noses cut off. The portrait
was shown in the outer court of the palace from sunrise till sunset, and
exalted travellers came in every day, gazed upon the beautiful face, and
came out again. None could tell who she was.
Meanwhile the days were weighing heavily upon the shoulders of Ta-Khai,
and his sufferings cannot be described; he ate no more, he drank no
more, and ended by forgetting which was day and which was night, what
was in and what was out, what was left and what was right. He spent his
time roaming over the mountains and through the woods crying aloud to
the gods to end his life and his sorrow.
It was thus, one day, that he came to the edge of a precipice. The
valley below was strewn with rocks, and the thought came to his mind
that he had been led to this place to put a term to his misery. He was
about to throw himself into the depths below when suddenly the bird
_Feng_ flew across the valley and appeared before him, saying:
'Why is Ta-Khai, the mighty Prince of Tartary, standing in this place of
desolation with a shadow on his brow?'
Ta-Khai replied: 'The pine tree finds its nourishment where it stands,
the tiger can run after the deer in the forests, the eagle can fly over
the mountains and the plains, but how can I find the one for whom my
heart is thirsting?'
And he told the bird his story.
The _Feng_, which in reality was a _Feng-Hwang_, that is, a female
_Feng_, rejoined:
'Without the help of Supreme Heaven it is not easy to acquire wisdom,
but it is a sign of the benevolence of the spiritual beings that I
should have come between you and destruction. I can make myself large
enough to carry the largest town upon my back, or small enough to pass
through the smallest keyhole, and I know all the princesses in all the
palaces of the earth. I have taught them the six intonations of my
voice, and I am their friend. Therefore show me the picture, O Ta-Khai,
and I will tell you the name of her whom you saw in your dream.'
[Illustration: THE STORY OF THE BIRD FENG
The wonderful bird, like a fire of many colours came down from heaven,
alighted before the Princess, dropping at her feet the portrait.
_See page 173_]
They went to the palace, and, when the portrait was shown, the bird
became as large as an elephant, and exclaimed, 'Sit on my back, O
Ta-Khai, and I will carry you to the place of your dream. There you will
find her of the transparent face with the drooping eyelids under the
crown of dark hair such as you have depicted, for these are the features
of Sai-Jen, the daughter of the King of China, and alone can be likened
to the full moon rising under a black cloud.'
At nightfall they were flying over the palace of the king just above a
magnificent garden. And in the garden sat Sai-Jen, singing and playing
upon the lute. The _Feng-Hwang_ deposited the prince outside the wall
near a place where bamboos were growing and showed him how to cut twelve
bamboos between the knots to make the flute which is called Pai-Siao and
has a sound sweeter than the evening breeze on the forest stream.
And as he blew gently across the pipes, they echoed the sound of the
princess's voice so harmoniously that she cried:
'I hear the distant notes of the song that comes from my own lips, and I
can see nothing but the flowers and the trees; it is the melody the
heart alone can sing that has suffered sorrow on sorrow, and to which
alone the heart can listen that is full of longing.'
At that moment the wonderful bird, like a fire of many colours come down
from heaven, alighted before the princess, dropping at her feet the
portrait. She opened her eyes in utter astonishment at the sight of her
own image. And when she had read the lines inscribed in the corner, she
asked, trembling:
'Tell me, O _Feng-Hwang_, who is he, so near, but whom I cannot see,
that knows the sound of my voice and has never heard me, and can
remember my face and has never seen me?'
Then the bird spoke and told her the story of Ta-Khai's dream, adding:
'I come from him with this message; I brought him here on my wings. For
many days he has longed for this hour, let him now behold the image of
his dream and heal the wound in his heart.'
Swift and overpowering is the rush of the waves on the pebbles of the
shore, and like a little pebble felt Sai-Jen when Ta-Khai stood before
her....
The _Feng-Hwang_ illuminated the garden sumptuously, and a breath of
love was stirring the flowers under the stars.
It was in the palace of the King of China that were celebrated in the
most ancient and magnificent style the nuptials of Sai-Jen and Ta-Khai,
Prince of Tartary.
And this is one of the three hundred and thirty-three stories about the
bird _Feng_ as it is told in the Book of the Ten Thousand Wonders.
End of Project Gutenberg's Edmund Dulacs Fairy-Book, by Edmund Dulac