Slowly the wind abated its fury, and Eepersip, covered with water drops and spray like a silver fish or a seagull, swam to the shore bubbling with happiness. With the water still standing on her hair, she sang a sea song on the beach, accompanied by the rocking waves, now calmed down, and by the screaming and wildly circling gulls.
It was a wonderful night afterwards, for soon the sea was entirely calm and the moon and the stars came out, reflecting themselves in trembling silver. Eepersip was up all that night, dancing, singing, swimming and diving in the glorious moonlight. And then she remembered – tomorrow! – and went up on the hill to say goodbye to the meadow, the pastured hill and the quiet, mossy pool that she had loved so.
Up on the hills she saw the sun rise. First the dark blue sky turned grey, and then a pearly streak came on the horizon as the first ray of the sun appeared; then it turned to the most heavenly shade of pink and deep rose, and then into the blue of one of the most gorgeous days Eepersip had ever seen. She gazed and gazed at the dawn until it grew pale and buttercup yellow and finally turned to blue. The sun made a mass of gold sun-sparkles on the sea, and they blended together from the high hill and formed a solid splotch of gold, separating at the edges into individual sparkles. It was a windy day, but the wind was warm, and at first the sea was only rippling gently and smiling.
Then Eepersip remembered her little sister, Fleuriss, and she wished her already there to share that beautiful, beautiful day. And off at one end of the beach she found, to her delight, a little green boat with two oars, which had been washed in by the storm. Now she had everything she needed, for the clumsy raft was difficult to manage in the wind, and she might even be blown so far off that she could never find the cottage again. Now, however, all was ready.
And so she made her way home, beginning in the boat and rowing to where she had first entered the sea; then past the great precipices over which she had so laboriously clambered as she went to the sea, over hills, down into valleys, crossing rivers and tearing her way through forests, until at last, to her delight, she arrived at the beautiful meadow where she had spent her first years of wildness with Chippy, Snowflake and the deer.
The deer did not remember Eepersip; that was one thing which distressed her. But a little fawn came cautiously and sniffed at her, obviously wishing he dared to approach and eat the ferns of her dress. She did not see Chippy anywhere.
She was soon at her own house, spying around and looking in windows. All she could think of was Fleuriss, her little sister.
III
* * *
THE MOUNTAINS
The droning wind
Entwined about the peaks
A golden trail of music …
Far off, the snow-topped mountains
Were sea waves
Capped with foam.
Eepersip had begun to wonder whether it would be so easy to take Fleuriss away. She might consent to play, like Toby; but to run away, like Eepersip? – it was a great problem. Eepersip must use some other means than simply appearing and asking her sister to go with her. Perhaps she could entice her on with the assurance that there was something wonderful waiting. Or maybe she could show Fleuriss wonder after wonder – point out the beautiful sea from far away, then lead her on to the little cottage which she had prepared. And if Fleuriss was cold or hungry, what should she do then? Perhaps she would not like roots to eat. Then, suddenly, an idea: she would dress herself up in wonderful flowers interwoven with the ferns, she would lure butterflies about her wreaths, she would bear armfuls of roses and apple blossoms and lilacs and scatter them over Fleuriss, she would make her a fern dress, and, thus fascinating her, draw her away.
Eepersip wondered where she could sleep, near the house and yet concealed. She thought of returning to the meadow, but that would be too far for convenient communication with Fleuriss. And then she saw a lilac bush on the eastern side of the cottage – a great tall lilac bush, thick and with great branches. It looked as though she could go into it. And when she tried, she found, to her great delight, that she could squeeze in, curl up in comfort and be absolutely invisible from the outside.
Then she began to make her fairy array, weaving more ferns into her skirt, and more and more, until it was thick and flouncy – maidenhair ferns and Christmas ferns, evergreen ferns and hay-scented ferns. She tucked flowers all over her dress – late daffodils, cosmos, wild geraniums, primroses. She made a girdle of yellow daisies, a crown of golden buttercups; she plucked a bunch of roses, lilacs and ferns, binding them with daisies woven together. A great bouquet of violets decorated her dress – violets and little white Pyrolas. With a huge hollyhock for her wand and her arms full of lilacs and roses, she danced in the woods, thinking how her little sister would wonder – and follow.
That evening early she climbed an oak which was beside the window of her former room, and peeped in. The moonlight shone on the face of a child lying in a little wooden crib. She had fluffy black curls and bright, snapping black eyes, and she was watching delightedly the shadows of the branches on her wall and softly humming.
‘Oh,’ breathed Eepersip, ‘the little sister. I want her, I want her!’ Entranced, Eepersip watched, sitting in a crotch just outside the window – watched her as she lay there, tracing with her finger the curving patterns on her wallpaper as she played with her hands in the moonlight and the waving shadows on her wall. And after a while the humming died away, the finger ceased to stroke the wall, her eyes closed, and in a moment she was gently sleeping. Before Eepersip went down she left a fair sprig of apple blossoms on Fleuriss’s bed – apple blossoms that, with difficulty, she had brought up the tree. When she went back to her lilac bush she imagined Fleuriss’s surprise, when she should wake, to see them on her bed; imagined Fleuriss following her, all fascinated by butterflies and sweet flowers; imagined her little sister climbing mountains with her, eating berries and roots, swimming and diving and dancing; and – her thoughts began to grow more and more fantastic – the smell of lilacs intoxicated her – and she went to sleep.
In the morning she climbed the tree again. Fleuriss was just waking. Her eyes were turned towards the lovely oak tree, watching the sunlight playing on the emerald leaves. She caught a glimpse of Eepersip as she vanished around the trunk.
‘O Mother,’ she called softly, ‘I saw a nymph! She smiled at me, and went away.’
‘Hush, child,’ said Mrs Eigleen, coming upstairs and stroking gently the silky black hair. ‘You were only dreaming.’
‘No, Mother,’ returned the child, ‘I was awake. I saw a nymph, really.’
Mrs Eigleen only smiled.
And then Fleuriss saw the flowers. ‘O Mother,’ she cried, ‘did you bring those to me?’ Mrs Eigleen was wonderstruck.
‘Why, no!’ she answered.
‘Maybe that nymph left them here.’
Mrs Eigleen was astounded enough not to contradict her. ‘Perhaps,’ she said.
Eepersip descended again and ran off to her safe hiding place in the lilac bush. ‘She is so, so lovely!’ she thought. ‘I want her more and more.’
In a short time little Fleuriss appeared with Mrs Eigleen. ‘Fleuriss,’ said her mother, ‘you may play here in the garden, but don’t go outside it and don’t climb the trees.’
‘All right, Mother.’
‘And don’t run off and worry me as you did once before.’ She had not forgotten Eepersip. Perhaps she scented something mysterious in the air. Those flowers troubled her.
‘No, I won’t.’
Mrs Eigleen went in, and Fleuriss began to run about and play. Then Eepersip stepped out from under the bush, and the lovely butterflies, lured by her flowers, fluttered and hovered around her.
‘Oh,’ said Fleuriss, ‘goodness, how you frightened me. Sit down on the grass and talk with me. And how do you get those butterflies? They always fly away from me.’
‘Listen, Fleuriss,’ said Eepersip. ‘I am Eepersip, who ran away. The butterflies and birds all love me and come t
o me in great flocks when I call them. And I want you. I want to take you with me to live wild, and eat leaves and berries with the birds – sweet red berries. And if you come the butterflies will gather around you, too. They will not any other way. And look at all my flowers! Butterflies love my flowers.’
‘Oh, did you bring me those bee-yoo-ti-ful flowers?’
‘Yes, I did. Come!’
‘Oh,’ answered Fleuriss, ‘and wouldn’t it be funny if Mother came out and found me not here!’
‘And think – the birds, the butterflies, the flowers! Look, I’d dress you like this, with ferns and flowers and butterflies. And what fun we could have! We would dance and sing and chase each other amongst the fluttering leaves.’
‘Oo, I could never catch you.’
‘No, but I could catch you, and that would be as much fun.’
‘But Mother doesn’t like me to eat leaves, and berries all the time make one sick.’
‘But we would not have berries all the time. We would dig up sweet white roots and wash them clean, and m-m! they are good, little sister Fleuriss. We would have honey. The bees gather honey from the flowers, which they would share with us.’
‘Bees sting,’ said Fleuriss, shrinking away; ‘they sting and they hurt, Eepersip.’
‘Oh, but the bees love us all so they don’t sting us,’ answered Eepersip. ‘It’s only the people that try to hurt them that they sting. We wouldn’t hurt them.’
‘Oh, Eepersip! The leaves and butterflies and – and honey – m-m! But I oughtn’t, really,’ she said, backing off towards the house.
‘Oh, come,’ said Eepersip, ‘come, don’t go away. Your mother wouldn’t care; she would love to see how happy you were. Please come.’ And Eepersip’s hands went out in supplication, scattering over Fleuriss wreaths of flowers, sprays of berries, crimson, gold, frosty white.
‘Oh, how beautiful!’ exclaimed the little girl. But when she looked up, Eepersip had vanished.
Suddenly the door opened and Mrs Eigleen stepped out. Eepersip had darted under the welcome branches of an apple tree, whose thick blossoms kept her from sight.
‘How sweet it smells!’ said Mrs Eigleen. ‘Just as if a fairy had been here. Where did those flowers come from, Fleuriss?’
‘Oh,’ answered Fleuriss, ‘I saw the most beautiful girl. She brought me flowers and called me “little sister” and wanted me to go away with her!’
Pale and weak from fright, Mrs Eigleen took Fleuriss by the hand and dragged her roughly into the house.
Eepersip sat down under the apple tree in ecstasy. ‘I saw her,’ she said softly, ‘I saw her and talked to her, and – oh, how dear she is! But I do wish she hadn’t told about me.’ She waited there and in a short time Fleuriss appeared again, running.
‘Eepersip, Eepersip,’ she cried, ‘where are you?’
In a moment Eepersip had her arms around her waist, kissing her and hugging her.
‘Are you coming?’ she asked. ‘Have you decided to come, Fleuriss?’
‘Y-y-es,’ said Fleuriss, ‘I really have, Eepersip. I thought all dinnertime, and couldn’t eat, I was so ’xcited! But we must go quickly now or they will run after us.’
So they ran quickly into the woods – ran amid the trees and flowers until they were far from the house. Eepersip showed her little sister how to dance, and they danced together. She also showed her how to leap and run fast, and Fleuriss was delighted. When they grew tired, they sat down together and made fern dresses and flower wreaths. Fleuriss followed Eepersip’s example, casting aside her dress, shoes and stockings.
‘Oh, how ’licious the grass feels on my bare toes!’ she said, ‘and the soft moss. Eepersip, I feel just like a nymph.’ (A slight pause.) ‘When I saw the flowers I said, “Mother, I think a nymph left them there,” and she said, “Oh, no, there aren’t any nymphs. You’re only dreaming!” Are there nymphs, Eepersip?’
‘Oh, yes, Fleuriss, and if we dance and run and dress just like them, we’ll pretend we’re nymphs, too.’
‘But why can’t we see them, Eepersip?’
‘Oh, we can, if we look very hard. They’re all around in the trees, the flowers and the woods. Sometimes we can’t see them, and they turn into butterflies so we can. I can see them.’
‘Well, sometimes,’ said Fleuriss thoughtfully, ‘it seems as if they were everywhere – when it’s windy, you know, and sunny, and there are shadows. In my garden it’s so beautiful I think there must be nymphs. I can feel them, not exactly see.’
There was a pause.
Then – ‘Where we going now, Eepersip?’ for Eepersip was gradually working off to a hill which was a peak of Mount Varcrobis, north of Eiki-ennern Peak.
‘Fleuriss,’ said Eepersip, with a strange emotion in her voice, ‘have you ever seen the sea?’
‘No, but I heard Mother talking about it once. She said maybe you had gone down there; and she told me it was lots of blue water and there were boats there. Did you really go there?’
‘Yes; it’s so beautiful, Fleuriss. The sun makes the waves sparkle like gold, and the great white gulls with their long, narrow wings go gliding, circling over the water, sometimes plunging down and catching fish underneath. And there is white sand there, soft sand, and shells and pretty pebbles and little fishes swimming. And when it’s windy the waves come dashing up on the rocks, flinging spray high in the air. And there is seaweed, too, Fleuriss, green seaweed that goes floating up and down as the waves stir it. And corals, too. Oh, my little sister, it’s so, so beautiful. I would show you how to leap into it from the rocks and how to swim – to be a mermaid and play with the gulls and the fishes, dressed all in seaweeds!’
‘Oh, Eepersip! Let’s go now!’
‘And I have a little cottage down there for you to live in – a pretty little cottage just like your home.’
‘Oh, how nice!’
‘And we shall go riding up and down on the great waves, Fleuriss, while the seagulls scream over our heads. We shall go ’way out of sight of land and find islands and rocks out there. And the waves are tremendous when it’s windy – very windy, Fleuriss!’ And Eepersip caught her little sister in her arms – glad that she had succeeded in entrancing her with the sea.
‘But, Eepersip,’ said Fleuriss, doubtfully, ‘where are we going now?’
‘I thought, Fleuriss, that we’d go to that great hill over there – do you see?’
‘Yes.’
‘Go over there so that you can see from ’way off how beautiful it is.’
‘Oh yes, I’m crazy to see it!’
Eepersip saw that this hill was wooded on one side, but on the far side it was like a pasture – she could see sunlight glinting on it. On they went, often stopping to pick flowers, to dig up roots or to refresh themselves at some little tinkling brook or mossy spring. Once as they were pushing through a fence of low beech branches they came to a spring all surrounded with green moss – oh! so soft. There were ferns nodding beside it and one or two strange pink orchids gazed at themselves admiringly in its surface. At the bottom were white stones. A cool, green frog plopped into it as they arrived. And Fleuriss was fascinated. She sat there for a long time, watching him reappear for air, then bob down again when he saw that they were still watching him.
Again they came into a great meadow dotted with flowers. Butterflies with soft wings stroked Eepersip’s cheeks caressingly. Fleuriss danced through the flowers, looking, as Eepersip thought, like a little butterfly herself. The sky was a heavenly deep blue – a rich deep blue, yet filled and sparkling with all the gold of the sun and all the coolth of snow. She could see for miles into it, as if it had suddenly come nearer than usual. She reached up and could almost see her fingers touching it. What a strange sensation!
But Fleuriss had a stranger one. As Eepersip danced along, it seemed as though her feet barely touched the ground. The flowers and grasses swayed gently beneath her, but they were not crushed. And Fleuriss felt a bit of dread coming into her mind – dread of
living and staying with this strange sister. What if she should grow tired of Fleuriss and run off? Suppose she should change into a tree – a leaf – a sprite? But Fleuriss fought with this feeling – because she wanted to live by the ocean and to do the things that Eepersip had promised.
After a while they came to the foot of the great hill. They slept down there, near a tiny lakelet, in the soft grass and among the flowers, with the tinkle, tinkle of a little brook in their ears all night. The next morning they climbed the hill together, and it was very steep and rocky. Fleuriss had to be helped often and grew tired before she reached the top. But Eepersip lured her on by the promise of seeing the ocean and they struggled painfully up.
The sea stretched away to the horizon, blue and sparkling as it met the sky. Fleuriss was spellbound.
‘Eepersip, is that the sea?’ she asked.
‘Yes, Fleuriss – the sea, the sea!’
Off to the north was a range of high blue-green hills, and off beyond them higher ones and higher – billowing mountains – and beyond them was a range of snowy peaks, rising, sharply outlined, into the blue. The lakelet where they had slept was like an opal set with dark green pines. But those mountains! Never before had Eepersip seen anything like them. The sea was not nearly so beautiful. And again she felt that longing which she had felt when she saw the sea – but a more passionate longing.
The House Without Windows Page 8
