by Enid Blyton
Beowald looked towards the little prince with his dark, empty eyes. He shook his head and smiled.
“Would you make me unhappy, little prince? I would break my heart in a strange place, under a roof. The mountains are my home. They know me and I know them. They know the feel of my feet, and I know the song of their winds and streams. And my goats would miss me, especially this old one.”
The big horned goat had been standing by Beowald all the time, listening as if he understood every word. He stamped with his forefoot, and came close to the goatherd, as if to say, “Master, I agree with you! You belong here! Do not go away!”
“I did so want to reward you,” said Paul disappointed.
“You can reward me, little lord,” said Beowald, smiling. “Come to see me sometimes, and let me play my tunes to you. That will be enough reward for me. And I will make you a flute of your own, so that you too may learn the mountain songs and take them back to the big palace with you.”
“Oh, I’d like that,” said Paul, picturing himself at once playing a flute, and making all the boys at school stare at him in admiration. “You must teach me all the tunes you know, Beowald!”
“Let’s go into the cave and have a look round,” said Jack. They all went in, but Ranni and Pilescu forbade the children to slip down the hole to the cave below.
“No,” he said. “No more adventures whilst we are here! We have had enough to last us for a lifetime — or, at any rate, for two months!”
“Now the Secret Forest will never again be visited by anyone!” said Mike. “The only way to it is gone. The water will always keep people from travelling through the mountain to get to it.”
“And the robber-people will never be able to leave the Secret Forest!” said Jack. “How strange! They will have to live there, year after year, a people lost and forgotten.”
This was a strange thought. “But perhaps it is a good punishment for robbers,” said Nora, thoughtfully. “It will be like keeping them in a great prison, which they can never escape from to rob other people!”
“We shall never see the Secret Forest again,” said Mike, sadly. “It is such an exciting place!”
But he was wrong. They did see it again, for when, towards the end of a lovely holiday, their mother and father flew over in the White Swallow to fetch the children. Ranni took the whole company, Captain and Mrs. Arnold as well, in the blue and silver aeroplane, right over the Killimooin Mountains, and over the Secret Forest!
“There it is, Daddy!” cried Mike. “Look! You can see where the river flows out of the mountain. Go down lower, Ranni. Look, there’s where it goes into the Secret Forest — and where it comes out again, after doubling back on itself. Oh, and there’s where it disappears into a chasm, falling right down into the heart of the earth!”
The aeroplane was now so low that it almost seemed as if it was skimming the tops of the trees! The robbers heard the great noise, and some of them ran out from the forest in wonder.
“There’s one of the robbers — and another — and another!” shouted Paul. “Goodbye, robber-people! You’ll have to live in the Secret Forest for ever and ever and ever.”
The aeroplane swept upwards and left the Secret Forest behind. Over Killimooin it went, and the children heaved a sigh.
“It’s been the loveliest holiday we’ve ever had!” said Nora. “I wonder what adventures we’ll have next time?”
“You’ve had quite enough,” said Ranni.
But they are sure to have plenty more. They are that kind of children!
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