The Manitou Eye.
The song had hardly begun when Sprigg could hear a huge stir in the
cave, as if the call had awakened a multitude of living things from the
slumber of the night. The hubbub was neither boisterous nor loud, yet it
seemed to come, not only from near at hand, but from far and wide. It
was an infinite mingling of confused, indistinct sounds, like the
inarticulate murmurs rising from innumerable voices--talking, singing
and shouting, intermixed with laughter and with the cries of beasts and
birds.
On hearing the commotion around him, the boy had risen to his feet, and
now, with strained eyes, was vainly striving to pierce the red mist in
which he was enveloped. Before the song was ended, the multitude, from
whom the hubbub rose, were evidently in rapid motion, and all in the
same direction, sweeping past him so that he felt as if he were standing
upon a rock, in the midst of a wide and swiftly flowing river, on whose
waters rested an impenetrable fog. Closely intermingled with the
voice-like sounds were now to be distinguished a variety of other
noises, resembling the sharp, light clattering of cloven hoofs, the
muffled pattering of hairy paws, or the wind-like whirring of fluttering
wings.
As the song closed, Sprigg felt something placed in his hand, which,
becoming visible the moment it came in contact with him, proved to be a
coronal of bright green plumes, such as we have seen described in the
interview between Jervis Whitney and Nick of the Woods. It was then
remarked that his headpiece possessed the magic property of rendering
the person who wore it--fairy or human--invisible to mortal eyes. Nor
was this all; It had also the power of making the sights and sounds of
Fairyland as clearly perceptible to the senses of the mortal who should
chance to get it as to the fairies themselves, whether the wee folks
were willing or not, he should pry into their mysteries.
This fantastic ornament, the only object visible to him in the red
mist--his own hand that held it up to his admiring gaze not
excepted--Sprigg thought even more beautiful and desirable than ever
were the red moccasins. He was wishing it was his, and debating within
himself whether he should venture to put it upon his head, when a voice,
which he recognized to be the same he had heard at home and in the woods
and on the hill, and now knew to be that of Manitou-Echo, said:
"Am I not a beautiful thing for the head, Sprigg? Yes, beautiful! You
can't deny it; nobody can! Put me on your head! What's to hinder? Put me
on, and you shall see what we do with wild dreams and wild dreamers,
here in Manitou-land."
In a twinkling the vain boy had doffed the coonskin cap and donned the
feathers. The magic coronal was hardly adjusted to his head, when
suddenly the luminous red mist condensed itself high aloft into a globe
of living light, leaving all surrounding objects clearly revealed to
sight, as were the crystalline sheen of a June day resting upon them.
What Sprigg saw there was, indeed, a cave; but far more the appearance
had it of a magnificent temple, so vast and lofty it was; so mazy with
multitudinous columns and arches, and so resplendent with the light of
that living lamp, which found reflection in a million star-like points,
as if wall, floor, ceiling, column and arch were studded with gems of
every rich and brilliant hue. The hubbub which he had heard around him,
the individual sounds whereof were now more distinct to his ear, Sprigg
found to proceed from an innumerable multitude of diminutive people,
sweeping by him in a continuous stream, and in the same direction, as if
a common impulse or purpose swayed them all.
The manikins, in complexion, cast of features and fashion of dress,
resembled Indians, and, though so red and outlandish, were beautiful to
behold. For a robe, each wore the skin of some wild animal, which, on
the hair side, showed as fresh and sleek as if the quondam owner had
just walked out of it; while, on the flesh side, it was as smooth as
satin and red as blood. The robe was secured at the throat by a clasp,
which seemed to be made of the claws or hoofs of the beast to whom the
skin had once, and, perhaps, still belonged. Many wore red moccasins and
coronals of green feathers, and here and there in the throng might be
seen one who wore the wings of some bird, between which and the skin,
forming the robe, there seemed to be some sort of affinity, very
suggestive, yet difficult to explain. Though but the miniature of men,
these elfin folks were of superhuman activity and strength; and in the
aspect of each was something that strangely reminded one of the beast or
bird to whom he owed his robe or wings. This latter peculiarity was
especially noticeable in the gait, in the play of the limbs and in the
shape and glance of the eyes; yet, in the resemblance, nothing was there
of deformity or unsightliness, but rather a weird beauty--fantastic, or
wild, or savage, or terrible--according to the beast or bird suggested
thereby--stalking elk or rolling bison, gloomy bear or rounding panther,
jog-trot wolf or gliding wild-cat, nodding jay or fluttering pigeon,
swooping hawk or sweeping eagle.
Sprigg had hardly time to note all this, when the weird procession had
swept past him, and the last lingerers were now vanishing to the distant
shadows of the subterranean temple. Though myriads had departed, many
still remained--several of every order--as if, while their fellows were
abroad, each fulfilling his special mission, these had some
corresponding office to perform here at home. Somewhat apart from the
rest stood a group arrayed in the skins of bears, and among these two
who, by their lofty port and commanding gestures, were evidently the
king and queen of this strange realm. The aspect of the king was dark
and stern; that of the queen fair and mild. The latter, as, indeed, all
the other elfin women, wore upon her head, instead of the feathered
coronal, a wreath of intense crimson flowers, marvelously beautiful;
whence came stealing forth the delectable perfume, which the boy had
perceived in the air from the moment Meg of the Hills had made her
appearance the night before. As he stood there, surveying them, Sprigg
felt in his heart that these were the two whose voices he had heard in
such earnest conference relative to his particular case.
The young guest now looked about him for the young bears with whom he
had slept, but not only his bedfellows, but the bed itself had vanished.
Then he knew that they must be among those who wore the skins of bears,
and that, instead of having been littered with cubs, he had shared the
couch of princes.
In saying that the magic coronal enabled the mortal who wore it to see
the sights and hear the sounds of Fairyland as distinctly as the fairies
themselves, a slight mistake was made. Although he could not perceive
them, Sprigg had his reasons for suspecting that other boys, beside
himself, were there in that underground world; yes, and men, too. Girls
and women--all waiting, like himself, to be "put through," though what
that might mean the poor boy could, of course, have little or no
conception. Invisible though these fellow mortals were, he could see
their shadows cast with marvelous distinctness upon the floor of the
temple; and, strange to say, spotted were all these shadows! Some in a
sitting posture, some standing, some walking, some gliding swiftly to
and fro. Many, after remaining motionless for a time, would, all at
once, begin dodging, skipping, flitting about among the columns in the
most fantastic manner imaginable; then would they come to a pause, and,
after again remaining motionless for a brief space, suddenly vanish.
The large majority of these airy figures were not sufficiently marked
for safe conjecture as to the manner of persons to whom they were
referrable, but many were too apparent to be mistaken. Some stood, with
magisterial dignity, staff in hand. Some, with military stalk, moved
slowly to and fro--swords, epaulets, plumes--all distinctly traceable.
Here sat one, with the likeness of a kingly crown upon his head; while
not far off, incongruous, as it may seem, appeared the picturesque
silhouette of an Indian warrior, moving onward with a majestic pace,
scalp lock, plumed, bow in hand, quiver on shoulder.
But it was a spectacle stranger still to observe how the elves, or, more
properly speaking, "Manitous," were busying themselves about these
shadows--now approaching them, now receding from them; sometimes
standing beside them, earnestly gesticulating, as if engaged in
conversation with the unseen, unheard personages who cast them. While
watching these mysterious movements Sprigg became cognizant of another
curious circumstance--the very counterpart of the shadow mystery. He
perceived that, while those invisible mortals were shadowed forth with
such distinctness, the Manitous themselves, with the light thrown full
and strong upon them, were as shadowless in that light as air itself.
Noting this, he glanced upward to see what manner of light it must be
that could shadow forth the unseen, and shadowless leave the seen. How
the boy started! Then backward shrank, till abruptly checked by a
column, against whose base, as were he an effigy carved upon it, he
stood, gazing coweringly upward. That globe of living light was a living
_eye_! An eye immensely large, of calm and terrible look, which Sprigg
felt to be bent directly upon himself, piercing his very soul and laying
it open, stripped of all disguise. Though so bright that it illumined
the vast temple to its uttermost bounds, that wondrous eye did not
blind, nor even dazzle, the sight; for it imparted to the mortal eye,
that need must meet it, strength to bear its light and behold the things
it would reveal. To have been dazzled into blindness had been far more
tolerable than to endure that terrible scrutiny. So felt the guilty
young human thing as, with increasing awe and dread, he perceived that,
while the eye was never turned from him, it seemed to be watchfully
observant of all that was passing beneath it, however distant the
objects, diverse, multitudinous. No secret, then; no guilty deed or
thought, could be hidden in that light. The boy started! That lie he had
sent back to his mother as he was slinking away from home! Did the eye
see that? Aye, and the hundred others he had told, and was showing upon
his soul a smutch, a smear, a spot for every one! Back, again, he shrank
and hid himself behind the column. The column was far loftier and more
massive than those which uphold the dome of mighty St. Peter's, and was
hewn out from the eternal granite; yet the light of that terrible eye
came gleaming through it, as if it had been of the clearest crystal. He
ran to another, then to a third, fourth, fifth--tenth. In vain!
Interpose what he might, still was it all as airy transparency between
himself and that piercing glance. There are X-rays for the soul, as well
as for the body. He turned his back upon it; there it was still! Look
where he would--in the depths above--and the eye was ever before him,
its calm and terrible look unchanged. Yet it did not seem to follow him.
It was simply _there_! Everywhere!
The self-convicted young offender was still dodging and flitting about
among the columns, when the voice of the Manitou king--the first sound
he had heard since the procession had vanished--came to his ears, with
the somewhat startling words:
"Manitou-Echo and Will-o'-the-Wisp, come, conjure up, now, the red
moccasins' dream! By this time our light has purged the young dreamer's
eyes sufficiently clear of the red mist for him to see what stuff his
dream is made of, and to what it is tending."
Whereupon a bareheaded elf, extremely fantastic in appearance, yet
beautiful, too, and recognized at once by his voice, Manitou-Echo came
flitting up to Sprigg, and, with a bland smile and light wave of the
hand, thus addressed him:
"Sprigg, how are you this morning? Fresh and spry? Glad to hear it. Our
brave Sprigg ran a fine race yesterday--splendid! Everybody said so! You
shall run another to-day, if you much desire it. You have just been
playing at hide and seek, I see. A nice little game all to yourself.
That's merry; that's brave! Everybody plays at hide and seek who comes
to our house, and we like to see it; it looks as if our guests were
making themselves at home. One would think the old house had been
designed expressly for that game, so many nooks and crannies and other
out-of-the-way corners has it, where everybody thinks of hiding himself,
and nobody thinks of seeking for himself. And, Sprigg, you would be
astonished, were we to tell you, who have been here before you! Still,
still more astonished, were I to tell you who are here at this very
moment; all, like yourself, playing at hide and seek with--strange as
you may think it--their own shadows! But no one ever hides from his
shadow here, nor finds it. And why? Because the light in which his
shadow is cast keeps continually before his eyes, so that, let him spin
himself about as he will, still is his shadow ever behind him.
"Doubtless, we Manitous would play at the same game, and as merrily,
too; but, unfortunately, as you see, we have no shadows to play
with--never had. This deficiency, however, is to some extent atoned for
by our being allowed to conjure with the dreams and fancies of you
mortals, in which we find our chief entertainment, and the wilder your
dreams, the more extravagant your fancies, the finer our entertainment.
"Now, to exemplify the point in question on a more diminished scale,
allow me to present to your consideration a dream, in which I happen to
have personal interest. When you have considered it attentively, will
you please favor me with your opinion as to the stuff it is made of and
what it is worth. Here it comes on six legs! Witness."
Sprigg looked. Incredible! The Indian boy and the Shetland pony
displayed before his eyes, not as a motionless picture, but as living,
moving things--careering 'round and 'round, within what seemed a
magnificent amphitheater, crowded with human spectators--all conjured
up out of Manitou mist. Yes, there they were--the pony with a small, red
flag stuck in the browband of his bridle. The boy decked out in all his
Indian bravery--tomahawk, feather hat, red moccasins--executing a
bewildering variety of tip-toe, neck-or-nothing, superhuman antics,
along the back and neck, over the head and tail of his fairy little
charger. Anon, the wild young equestrian was the Indian boy no longer,
but the very semblance of Sprigg himself, throwing his red predecessor
completely in the shade, as one might well infer from the plaudits of
the thousands and thousands of admiring, astonished spectators, all
clapping their hands, waving their hats and shouting: "Hurrah! hurrah!
Splendid! splendid!"
Sprigg rubbed his eyes and looked again. Just the same. He closed his
eyes; it made no difference, he could see it as plainly through his
eyelids. He opened them again. His semblance was fading into a shadow,
so was that of the pony--fading like a cloud picture at sunset. Nothing
distinctly visible, save the red moccasins, which, from the last fading
outline of the pony's back, threw a prodigious summerset, and when they
alighted upon the ground, there! in them again, Sprigg saw his
semblance. Manitous, temple, amphitheater--all had vanished--a forest of
lofty trees appearing instead, through whose glimmer of lights and
shadows the boy now saw himself, or rather his wraith running with
incredible swiftness, and glancing furtively over his shoulder at every
bound, as if death were a present fear behind him; life a distant hope
before.
But his pursuers, who and where are they? Ah! Yonder they come, and here
they are, and there they go. Sweeping swiftly onward--a bear, a wolf, a
panther and a bison bull--and his pursuers are gaining upon him at every
bound, now treading upon his very shadow.
Meanwhile, the real Sprigg is conscious of a peculiar sensation, as if
he were moving glidingly onward, borne along by invisible hands to keep
pace with, and see the wild chase to the end. The end has come. He sees
his wraith stop suddenly, poised on the very brink of a frightful
precipice, those terrible shapes behind; a yawning, mist-hid gulf
before. A moment, that semblance of himself stands reeling on the dizzy
verge, then flings away, or is flung away into the misty void! His brain
spins 'round and 'round; sight and sensation forsake him. The boy has
swooned away! Will he be warned? Let us see!