CHAPTER VI.
The fourth day it happened that the deaf-mute paid his accustomedvisit, after which Prince Dolor's spirits rose. They always did, whenhe got the new books, which, just to relieve his conscience, the Kingof Nomansland regularly sent to his nephew; with many new toys also,though the latter were disregarded now.
"Toys indeed! when I'm a big boy," said the Prince with disdain,and would scarcely condescend to mount a rocking-horse, which hadcome, somehow or other--I can't be expected to explain things veryexactly--packed on the back of the other, the great black horse, whichstood and fed contentedly at the bottom of the tower.
Prince Dolor leaned over and looked at it, and thought how grand itmust be to get upon its back--this grand live steed--and ride away,like the pictures of knights.
"Suppose I was a knight," he said to himself; "then I should be obligedto ride out and see the world."
But he kept all these thoughts to himself, and just sat still,devouring his new books till he had come to the end of them all. Itwas a repast not unlike the Barmecide's feast which you read of in the"Arabian Nights," which consisted of very elegant but empty dishes, orthat supper of Sancho Panza in "Don Quixote," where, the minute thesmoking dishes came on the table, the physician waved his hand and theywere all taken away.
Thus, almost all the ordinary delights of boy-life had been taken awayfrom, or rather never given to, this poor little Prince.
"I wonder," he would sometimes think--"I wonder what it feels like tobe on the back of a horse, galloping away, or holding the reins ina carriage, and tearing across the country, or jumping a ditch, orrunning a race, such as I read of or see in pictures. What a lot ofthings there are that I should like to do! But first, I should like togo and see the world. I'll try."
Apparently it was his godmother's plan always to let him try, and tryhard, before he gained anything. This day the knots that tied up histravelling-cloak were more than usually troublesome, and he was afull half hour before he got out into the open air, and found himselffloating merrily over the top of the tower.
Hitherto, in all his journeys he had never let himself go out of sightof home, for the dreary building, after all, was home--he rememberedno other; but now he felt sick of the very look of his tower, with itsround smooth walls and level battlements.
"Off we go!" cried he, when the cloak stirred itself with a slight slowmotion, as if waiting his orders. "Anywhere--anywhere, so that I amaway from here, and out into the world."
As he spoke, the cloak, as if seized suddenly with a new idea, boundedforward and went skimming through the air, faster than the very fastestrailway train.
"Gee-up, gee-up!" cried Prince Dolor in great excitement. "This is asgood as riding a race."
And he patted the cloak as if it had been a horse--that is, in the wayhe supposed horses ought to be patted; and tossed his head back to meetthe fresh breeze, and pulled his coat-collar up and his hat down, as hefelt the wind grow keener and colder, colder than anything he had everknown.
"What does it matter though?" said he. "I'm a boy, and boys ought notto mind anything."
Still, for all his good-will, by-and-by he began to shiver exceedingly;also, he had come away without his dinner, and he grew frightfullyhungry. And to add to everything, the sunshiny day changed into rain,and being high up, in the very midst of the clouds, he got soakedthrough and through in a very few minutes.
"Shall I turn back?" meditated he. "Suppose I say 'Abracadabra?'"
Here he stopped, for already the cloak gave an obedient lurch, as if itwere expecting to be sent home immediately.
"No--I can't--I can't go back! I must go forward and see the world. Butoh! if I had but the shabbiest old rug to shelter me from the rain, orthe driest morsel of bread and cheese, just to keep me from starving!Still, I don't much mind; I'm a prince, and ought to be able to standanything. Hold on, cloak, we'll make the best of it."
It was a most curious circumstance, but no sooner had he said this thanhe felt stealing over his knees something warm and soft; in fact, amost beautiful bearskin, which folded itself round him quite naturally,and cuddled him up as closely as if he had been the cub of the kindold mother-bear that once owned it. Then feeling in his pocket, whichsuddenly stuck out in a marvellous way, he found, not exactly bread andcheese, nor even sandwiches, but a packet of the most delicious foodhe had ever tasted. It was not meat, nor pudding, but a combination ofboth, and it served him excellently for both. He ate his dinner withthe greatest gusto imaginable, till he grew so thirsty he did not knowwhat to do.
"Couldn't I have just one drop of water, if it didn't trouble you toomuch, kindest of godmothers."
For he really thought this want was beyond her power to supply.All the water which supplied Hopeless Tower was pumped up withdifficulty, from a deep artesian well--there were such things knownin Nomansland--which had been made at the foot of it. But around, formiles upon miles, the desolate plain was perfectly dry. And above it,high in air, how could he expect to find a well, or to get even a dropof water?
He forgot one thing--the rain. While he spoke, it came on in anotherwild burst, as if the clouds had poured themselves out in a passion ofcrying, wetting him certainly, but leaving behind, in a large glassvessel which he had never noticed before, enough water to quench thethirst of two or three boys at least. And it was so fresh, so pure--aswater from the clouds always is, when it does not catch the soot fromcity chimneys and other defilements--that he drank it, every drop, withthe greatest delight and content.
Also, as soon as it was empty, the rain filled it again, so that hewas able to wash his face and hands and refresh himself exceedingly.Then the sun came out and dried him in no time. After that he curledhimself up under the bearskin rug, and though he determined to be themost wide-awake boy imaginable, being so exceedingly snug and warm andcomfortable, Prince Dolor condescended to shut his eyes, just for oneminute. The next minute he was sound asleep.
When he awoke, he found himself floating over a country quite unlikeanything he had ever seen before.
Yet it was nothing but what most of you children see every day andnever notice it--a pretty country landscape, like England, Scotland,France, or any other land you choose to name. It had no particularfeatures--nothing in it grand or lovely--was simply pretty, nothingmore; yet to Prince Dolor, who had never gone beyond his lonely towerand level plain, it appeared the most charming sight imaginable.
First, there was a river. It came tumbling down the hillside, frothingand foaming, playing at hide-and-seek among rocks, then bursting out innoisy fun like a child, to bury itself in deep still pools. Afterwardsit went steadily on for a while, like a good grown-up person, till itcame to another big rock, where it misbehaved itself extremely. Itturned into a cataract and went tumbling over and over, after a fashionthat made the Prince--who had never seen water before, except in hisbath or his drinking-cup--clap his hands with delight.
"It is so active, so alive! I like things active and alive!" cried he,and watched it shimmering and dancing, whirling and leaping, till,after a few windings and vagaries, it settled into a respectablestream. After that it went along, deep and quiet, but flowing steadilyon, till it reached a large lake, into which it slipped, and so endedits course.
"_After a few windings and vagaries, it settled into arespectable stream._"]
All this the boy saw, either with his own naked eye, or through hisgold spectacles. He saw also as in a picture, beautiful but silent,many other things, which struck him with wonder, especially a grove oftrees.
Only think, to have lived to his age (which he himself did not know,as he did not know his own birthday) and never to have seen trees! Ashe floated over these oaks, they seemed to him--trunk, branches, andleaves--the most curious sight imaginable.
"If I could only get nearer, so as to touch them," said he, andimmediately the obedient cloak ducked down; Prince Dolor made a snatchat the topmost twig of the tallest tree, and caught a bunch of leavesin his ha
nd.
Just a bunch of green leaves--such as we see in myriads; watching thembud, grow, fall, and then kicking them along on the ground as if theywere worth nothing. Yet, how wonderful they are--every one of thema little different. I don't suppose you could ever find two leavesexactly alike, in form, colour, and size--no more than you could findtwo faces alike, or two characters exactly the same. The plan of thisworld is infinite similarity and yet infinite variety.
Prince Dolor examined his leaves with the greatest curiosity--and alsoa little caterpillar that he found walking over one of them. He coaxedit to take an additional walk over his finger, which it did with thegreatest dignity and decorum, as if it, Mr. Caterpillar, were the mostimportant individual in existence. It amused him for a long time; andwhen a sudden gust of wind blew it overboard, leaves and all, he feltquite disconsolate.
"Still, there must be many live creatures in the world besidescaterpillars. I should like to see a few of them."
The cloak gave a little dip down, as if to say "All right, my Prince,"and bore him across the oak forest to a long fertile valley--called inScotland a strath, and in England a weald--but what they call it inthe tongue of Nomansland I do not know. It was made up of cornfields,pasturefields, lanes, hedges, brooks, and ponds. Also, in it were whatthe Prince had desired to see, a quantity of living creatures, wildand tame. Cows and horses, lambs and sheep, fed in the meadows; pigsand fowls walked about the farmyards; and, in lonelier places, haresscudded, rabbits burrowed, and pheasants and partridges, with manyother smaller birds, inhabited the fields and woods.
"_It was made up of cornfields, pasturefields, lanes,hedges, brooks, and ponds._"]
"_In it were what the Prince had desired to see, aquantity of living creatures._"]
Through his wonderful spectacles the Prince could see everything;but, as I said, it was a silent picture; he was too high up to catchanything except a faint murmur, which only aroused his anxiety to hearmore.
"I have as good as two pairs of eyes," he thought. "I wonder if mygodmother would give me a second pair of ears."
Scarcely had he spoken, than he found lying on his lap the most curiouslittle parcel, all done up in silvery paper. And it contained--what doyou think? Actually, a pair of silver ears, which, when he tried themon, fitted so exactly over his own, that he hardly felt them, exceptfor the difference they made in his hearing.
There is something which we listen to daily and never notice. I meanthe sounds of the visible world, animate and inanimate. Winds blowing,waters flowing, trees stirring, insects whirring (dear me! I am quiteunconsciously writing rhyme), with the various cries of birds andbeasts--lowing cattle, bleating sheep, grunting pigs, and cacklinghens--all the infinite discords that somehow or other make a beautifulharmony.
We hear this, and are so accustomed to it that we think nothing of it;but Prince Dolor, who had lived all his days in the dead silence ofHopeless Tower, heard it for the first time. And oh! if you had seenhis face.
He listened, listened, as if he could never have done listening. Andhe looked and looked, as if he could not gaze enough. Above all, themotion of the animals delighted him: cows walking, horses galloping,little lambs and calves running races across the meadows, were sucha treat for him to watch--he that was always so quiet. But, thesecreatures having four legs, and he only two, the difference did notstrike him painfully.
Still, by-and-by, after the fashion of children--and, I fear, of manybig people too--he began to want something more than he had, somethingthat would be quite fresh and new.
"Godmother," he said, having now begun to believe that, whether he sawher or not, he could always speak to her with full confidence that shewould hear him--"Godmother, all these creatures I like exceedingly--butI should like better to see a creature like myself. Couldn't you showme just one little boy?"
There was a sigh behind him--it might have been only the wind--and thecloak remained so long balanced motionless in air, that he was halfafraid his godmother had forgotten him, or was offended with him forasking too much. Suddenly, a shrill whistle startled him, even throughhis silver ears, and looking downwards, he saw start up from behind abush on a common, something--
Neither a sheep, nor a horse, nor a cow--nothing upon four legs. Thiscreature had only two; but they were long, straight, and strong. Andit had a lithe active body, and a curly head of black hair set uponits shoulders. It was a boy, a shepherdboy, about the Prince's ownage--but, oh! so different.
Not that he was an ugly boy--though his face was almost as red as hishands, and his shaggy hair matted like the backs of his own sheep. Hewas rather a nice-looking lad; and seemed so bright, and healthy, andgood-tempered--"jolly" would be the word, only I am not sure if theyhave such an one in the elegant language of Nomansland--that the littlePrince watched him with great admiration.
"Might he come and play with me? I would drop down to the ground tohim, or fetch him up to me here. Oh, how nice it would be if I only hada little boy to play with me!"
But the cloak, usually so obedient to his wishes, disobeyed him now.There were evidently some things which his godmother either couldnot or would not give. The cloak hung stationary, high in air, neverattempting to descend. The shepherd lad evidently took it for a largebird and, shading his eyes, looked up at it, making the Prince's heartbeat fast.
"_The shepherd lad evidently took it for a large bird._"]
However, nothing ensued. The boy turned round, with a long, loudwhistle--seemingly his usual and only way of expressing his feelings.He could not make the thing out exactly--it was a rather mysteriousaffair, but it did not trouble him much--_he_ was not an "examining"boy.
Then, stretching himself, for he had been evidently half asleep, hebegan flopping his shoulders with his arms, to wake and warm himself;while his dog, a rough collie, who had been guarding the sheepmeanwhile, began to jump upon him, barking with delight.
"Down Snap, down! Stop that, or I'll thrash you," the Prince heard himsay; though with such a rough hard voice and queer pronunciation thatit was difficult to make the words out. "Hollo! Let's warm ourselves bya race."
They started off together, boy and dog--barking and shouting, till itwas doubtful which made the most noise or ran the fastest. A regularsteeple-chase it was: first across the level common, greatly disturbingthe quiet sheep; and then tearing away across country, scramblingthrough hedges, and leaping ditches, and tumbling up and down overploughed fields. They did not seem to have anything to run for--but asif they did it, both of them, for the mere pleasure of motion.
And what a pleasure that seemed! To the dog of course, but scarcelyless so to the boy. How he skimmed along over the ground--his cheeksglowing, and his hair flying, and his legs--oh, what a pair of legs hehad!
Prince Dolor watched him with great intentness, and in a state ofexcitement almost equal to that of the runner himself--for a while.Then the sweet pale face grew a trifle paler, the lips began to quiverand the eyes to fill.
"How nice it must be to run like that!" he said softly, thinking thatnever--no, never in this world--would he be able to do the same.
Now he understood what his godmother had meant when she gave him histravelling-cloak, and why he had heard that sigh--he was sure it washers--when he had asked to see "just one little boy."
"I think I had rather not look at him again," said the poor littlePrince, drawing himself back into the centre of his cloak, and resuminghis favourite posture, sitting like a Turk, with his arms wrapped roundhis feeble, useless legs.
"You're no good to me," he said, patting them mournfully. "You neverwill be any good to me. I wonder why I had you at all; I wonder why Iwas born at all, since I was not to grow up like other little boys._Why_ not?"
A question, so strange, so sad, yet so often occurring in some formor other, in this world--as you will find, my children, when you areolder--that even if he had put it to his mother she could only haveanswered it, as we have to answer many as difficult things, by simplysaying, "I don't know." There is much t
hat we do not know, and cannotunderstand--we big folks, no more than you little ones. We have toaccept it all just as you have to accept anything which your parentsmay tell you, even though you don't as yet see the reason of it. Youmay some time if you do exactly as they tell you, and are content towait.
Prince Dolor sat a good while thus, or it appeared to him a good while,so many thoughts came and went through his poor young mind--thoughts ofgreat bitterness, which, little though he was, seemed to make him growyears older in a few minutes.
Then he fancied the cloak began to rock gently to and fro, with asoothing kind of motion, as if he were in somebody's arms: somebody whodid not speak, but loved him and comforted him without need of words;not by deceiving him with false encouragement or hope, but by makinghim see the plain hard truth, in all its hardness, and thus letting himquietly face it, till it grew softened down, and did not seem nearly sodreadful after all.
Through the dreary silence and blankness, for he had placed himself sothat he could see nothing but the sky, and had taken off his silverears, as well as his gold spectacles--what was the use of either whenhe had no legs to walk or run?--up from below there rose a delicioussound.
You have heard it hundreds of times, my children, and so have I. When Iwas a child I thought there was nothing so sweet; and I think so still.It was just the song of a skylark, mounting higher and higher from theground, till it came so close that Prince Dolor could distinguish itsquivering wings and tiny body, almost too tiny to contain such a gushof music.
"O, you beautiful, beautiful bird!" cried he; "I should dearly like totake you in and cuddle you. That is, if I could--if I dared."
But he hesitated. The little brown creature with its loud heavenlyvoice almost made him afraid. Nevertheless, it also made him happy;and he watched and listened--so absorbed that he forgot all regret andpain, forgot everything in the world except the little lark.
It soared and soared, and he was just wondering if it would soar outof sight, and what in the world he should do when it was gone, when itsuddenly closed its wings, as larks do, when they mean to drop to theground. But, instead of dropping to the ground, it dropped right intothe little boy's breast.
What felicity! If it would only stay! A tiny soft thing to fondle andkiss, to sing to him all day long, and be his playfellow and companion,tame and tender, while to the rest of the world it was a wild bird ofthe air. What a pride, what a delight! To have something that nobodyelse had--something all his own. As the travelling-cloak travelled on,he little heeded where, and the lark still stayed, nestled down in hisbosom, hopped from his hand to his shoulder, and kissed him with itsdainty beak, as if it loved him, Prince Dolor forgot all his grief, andwas entirely happy.
But when he got in sight of Hopeless Tower, a painful thought struckhim.
"My pretty bird, what am I to do with you? If I take you into my roomand shut you up there, you, a wild skylark of the air, what will becomeof you? I am used to this, but you are not. You will be so miserable,and suppose my nurse should find you--she who can't bear the sound ofsinging? Besides, I remember her once telling me that the nicest thingshe ever ate in her life was lark pie!"
The little boy shivered all over at the thought. And, though the merrylark immediately broke into the loudest carol, as if saying derisivelythat he defied anybody to eat _him_--still Prince Dolor was veryuneasy. In another minute he had made up his mind.
"No, my bird, nothing so dreadful shall happen to you if I can help it;I would rather do without you altogether. Yes, I'll try. Fly away, mydarling, my beautiful! Good-bye, my merry, merry bird."
Opening his two caressing hands, in which, as if for protection, hehad folded it, he let the lark go. It lingered a minute, perching onthe rim of the cloak, and looking at him with eyes of almost humantenderness; then away it flew, far up into the blue sky. It was only abird.
But, some time after, when Prince Dolor had eaten his supper--somewhatdrearily, except for the thought that he could not possibly supoff lark pie now--and gone quietly to bed, the old familiar littlebed, where he was accustomed to sleep, or lie awake contentedlythinking--suddenly he heard outside the window a little faintcarol--faint but cheerful--cheerful, even though it was the middle ofthe night.
The dear little lark! it had not flown away after all. And it wastruly the most extraordinary bird, for, unlike ordinary larks, it kepthovering about the tower in the silence and darkness of the night,outside the window or over the roof. Whenever he listened for a moment,he heard it singing still.
He went to sleep as happy as a king.
The Little Lame Prince and His Travelling Cloak Page 6
