XXXVALLEY TO VALLEY
IT was the Valley of the Deaf they came to next. And presto! by a twitch of his lean fingers and a mumbling of strange words, the old man had given back the hearing to each of its people.
What joy was theirs, now! For they could hear the song of the birds and the chatter of their own glad voices and—oh, yes! the laughter of the thousand brooks, which once had played so great a part in their sad history. But all that was over now, and they had only smiles and thanks for Peterkin and forgiveness for the toothless villain who had done them so much wrong.
They were all listening to the chirp of a little sparrow’s young, high in the nest, when Peterkin and his captive flewaway. Peterkin looked back a moment, to watch the joyous smiles upon their faces—and he, too, was happy in their new-found happiness.
And so he and his companion came to the Valley of Dancing Legs, where all the folk were racing hither, thither, everywhere, and all about, in weary, dreary, jigging, jogging flocks. Uphill, downhill, over fields and woods they went, never halting, never resting—on, on, lungs almost bursting and legs ready to drop off with weariness.
“Halt!” cried the toothless one. And then, with a moment or two of whispering and winking, he brought them all to a happy halt. Poor folk! It was the first rest they had had for so many years! They fell down, each of them, panting, groaning, utterly motionless. Ah, they would be happy now! Already, as their legs grew rested, they seemed to be smiling more peacefully.... Peterkin and his companion might go forward now into the next and last valley. For all would be joy in this one from this time forth.
So on they flew, these rescuing two, to the Valley of Up-in-the-Air. And only a few mystic symbols and commands, when down came all those floating, flying people, down to the ground they loved! And down came their beds, their chairs and tables after them—and all was set to rights!
Thus, in all the Four Kingdoms did happiness succeed grim sorrow and smiles broke through the tears. Thus was the whole domain made joyful through the brave work of the little stranger, Peterkin!
“Where now?” cried the old villain, rubbing his sore shoulders. “I am tired of carrying you wherever you ordered. My back is well-nigh broken with the load of you.”
“We shall make one more flight,” said Peterkin, “and that shall be to the window of the palace, just beneath the gilded dome. Come, away with us—to the Royal Princess’s window.”
“But—but, oh, no!” screamed the old fellow, quaking with fear. “That palace is in the city—don’t you understand, in the city of my bitter enemies! And they’ll kill me if ever they catch me there.”
Peterkin laughed. “And they’ve sworn to kill me, too,” he chuckled bravely. “But never you mind—we’re going back anyhow.”
And in spite of the old villain’s terror, Peterkin jumped upon his shoulders and whipped him up, over the marshes and the sea, toward the faint gray glimpse of towers and steeples in the far distance.