BENÈ-AGÂ, THE BLIND GUIDE.
BENÈ-AGÂ, THE BLIND GUIDE.
BENÈ-AGÂ, THE BLIND GUIDE.
So, like a mighty son of earth he towered, rude, yet noble; untaught yet learned, human yet godlike that I stood transfixed. My tongue forgot its tricks of speech. I felt that I should turn to stone, if he did not speak to me.
While standing thus speechless, robbed of power to move a limb, Bulger broke the spell!
At Benè-agâ’s feet lay a sick dog, infirm thro’ age and not ailment; blind like his master, his head pillowed on some soft dry leaves—the only semblance of bed within the hermit’s cave.
Bulger’s gaze fell upon this pitiful spectacle. With cautious step, outstretched neck, and wide-opened eyes, he approached his sick brother, sniffed him over, licked his face and ears, whined piteously and then fixed a pleading look upon me as if to ask: “Dear little master, canst thou do nothing to help my poor, sick brother? Canst thou not make him well again, so that I may coax him out into the warm sunshine to play with him?”
Benè-agâ spake: “I see that thou art not alone, little wanderer, thou bringest a companion with thee. He is welcome. His tenderness and sympathy will carry joy and gladness to the heart of my suffering friend, whose head I’ve pillowed upon some soft grass! I, too, love dogs! Thou seest they are my sole companions. Their love is less exacting than human love. They require no pledge or promise. They understand my silence, read my thoughts and are content!”
“But, come! little traveler, time presses. Speak! What brings thee to Benè-agâ’s cave? If it be idle curiosity, depart! But, if thou seekest counsel; if thou comest with honest intent to ask my advice in some arduous matter, I am ready to serve thee!”
“I thank thee, great master!” I replied, humbly. “Know then that I would traverse the Great Gloomy Forest and that report hath reached mine ear that thou alone, of all human beings, canst guide me through its never-lifting shadows, shield me from its poisonous vapors and let me not follow my own foot-prints in ever-widening circles, until reason itself feels the dreaded spell of that vast, trackless, pathless wilderness!”
“’Tis true!” gave answer Benè-agâ in deep, sad tones. “I can perform the service thou askest! But, O, my son! thou must know that a most sacred vow holds me in its mysterious power, securely locked, that I should lead no fellow-creature through that pathless wood, save on certain conditions!”
“Name them, great master!” I cried.
“That he who asks this service,” continued Benè-agâ, “shall tarry thirty days and nights with me in my rocky home, to inure him to the burden of awful gloom and silence; that he, in all that time, taste of no food save the berries, on which I feed; slake his thirst with no draught other than that which I bring him from the neighboring rill and sleep on the bare rock, even as I do! Reflect! the apprenticeship is severe. Deem it not dishonorable, nor weak, to shrink from so hard a task! Pause, reflect, ere thou answerest. I’ll resume my meditations for an hour and then question thee again!”
“Be it so, great master!” I made answer; and, Benè-agâ’s sightless eyes seem to turn to the shrunken form of the dying dog.
Silence filled the cave, and feeble twilight struggled against the gathering gloom. My thoughts turned homewards! I could hear the gentle voice of the baroness, my mother. The castle windows were lighted, and the tall lindens shook a rich perfume from their blossoming boughs. All seemed so sweet and peaceful. My mother’s voice reached me—I caught its every word: “Set forth my son’s repast!” said she in soft, mild tones. “See that his favorite dishes are kept warm. Choose none but the choicest wine for him; and, take good care that his bed be soft and even, and his pillow’s smooth!” My breath came only with painful effort as these words rang in my ears.
I started up with a bound. In spite of myself, I took a step toward the portal of Benè-agâ’s cave, where the last rays of the setting sun tipped the angry, jagged, broken rocks with gold.
“Well, my son!” spake the blind hermit. “Art thou still resolute?”
“Ay, great master!” I cried, turning back and drawing near to him.
“Fear naught! Though puny in body, yet was I born with the strength of steel in my limbs, and the will power of a score of common men.”
“Lead thou on! I will follow thee.”
A faint smile spread over the noble countenance of the blind hermit, as he replied:
“I have not told thee all, my son! Till we pass from these walls of stone, and stand in the open air, thou must not speak a word aloud. Nay, nor in a whisper, either. I will set thy food and drink before thee, and that,” he continued, pointing to a projecting shelf of rock, “shall be thy bed! On its bare surface, rest thy limbs when nature bids thee sleep. Art thou still resolute?”
“Ay, great master!” I replied with loud and buoyant voice, “I will do thy bidding!”
“’Tis well!” said Benè-agâ. “I like thy brave and steadfast soul! But hold me not hard of heart in condemning thee to this gloom and silence! Temper the bitterness of thy fate by giving thyself over to deep and earnest meditation, during the few brief hours that it shall last. Forget the so-called world—a bubble that bursts when thou thinkest to grasp it; a shadow, which thou pursuest with eager pace, and yet canst never overtake; a mirage, rising before the weary traveler’s gaze, with visions of delicious gardens, watered by limpid rills and cooled by sparkling fountains, only to melt away and leave him more weak and fainting than before. Look within thyself! Thou art the temple of an immortal soul! Enter its portals! Fix thine eyes on the mysterious writings there unrolled! Grow not weary and discouraged if thou canst not decipher their meaning as easily as thou wouldst the books of man! And O, my son, should the gloom and silence of Benè-agâ’s cave weigh too heavily on thy young soul, raise thine eyes to some one of the many lines which I have carved upon these rocky walls, in my hours of recreation. They will guide thee back to sweet contentment; give thee strength to persevere unto the end! And now, my son, farewell! Though with thee, near thee, even by thy side, yet remember, I am farfrom thee. Ay, farther than earthly staff can measure! Be hopeful, be strong, and thou wilt conquer! Again, farewell!”
“Farewell, great master, farewell!” I exclaimed; and, as my words echoed through the vast, rocky chamber, the last ray of light fled before the thickening gloom, and all was inky blackness.
I had noticed, ere the darkness came, that I was standing near the projecting shelf of rock which was to serve me as a bed, when nature called me to rest.
Turning now softly, I groped my way toward it and stretched myself at full length on its bare surface. For a few moments all went well. Such a conflict of thought was raging in the chambers of my mind, that I took no note of the chill which this couch of stone sent creeping through my limbs. I closed my eyes, thinking to coax sleep to them, and thus forget the ever-increasing pang!
In vain! It seemed as if death itself had seized my feet between his icy palms!
Sharp pains leapt from one joint to another, and wherever my body came into contact with that couch of stone, it seemed as if a thousand needles pricked my flesh. Half-crazed by the ever-increasing agony, I tossed from side to side, like one in delirium. At times I sat up to escape from stupefying dizziness which caught me in its swift, encircling whirl! My heated pulse beat at the thin walls of my temple, until it seemed as if I should go mad! A rushing, soughing, gurgling sound of many waters roared in my ears, while strange, fantastic forms, in lines of fire on inky background, flitted to and fro before my eyes, until I began to fear I should soon be doomed to sit in eternal gloom like Benè-agâ himself.
And now heat and cold held alternate sway within my tired and broken frame. Vainly I strove to wet my parched lips with my tongue! The fever had dried it to a chip. For a few brief moments the torture ceased!
I breathed more freely!
My limbs, thought I, are getting used to their couch of stone! I shall full asleep and forget my sufferings!
But no! With redoubled fury they came back to their work.
I dared not cry out so soon to Benè-agâ, for mercy, for release from the cruel conditions he had imposed upon me! Rather death than yield so quickly; shrink so like a coward who stands motionless and trembling on the battle field, as a spent ball strikes his breast.
I slept at last!
But O, what a broken, fevered sleep it was! A sleep with unclosed eyes, full of dark and dismal sights. I could stand no more. I yielded and longed for death. In thought, I kissed my parents’ hands and felt their soft caresses on my brow and face. And then, it seemed the gracious baroness, my mother, caught my hand in hers and pressed it fervently on her lips. The kiss was so warm, so tender, so life-like, that I started up like one awakening from a long delirium. It cannot be a dream, I murmured, I am awake!
Tossing my racked form over on its side, so that I could touch my right hand—the one on which I had felt the kiss, with my left the mystery was explained.
’T was Bulger!
He was beside my couch of stone. It was he who had licked my cold, numb hand and turned my thoughts homeward. I caressed his head and ears and sought to make him lie down lest the rustle might disturb the blind hermit. He refused to obey, altho’ I thrice let him know my wishes. It was his first act of disobedience and for an instant drove all thoughts of pain from my mind. To all my suffering now came this new grief.
Aroused from my stupor at last, by his persistent refusal to obey I collected my thoughts sufficiently to realize that he was bent upon leaping on my couch. His forefeet were already resting upon its edge. I dared not resist lest he should break the solemn stillness of Benè-agâ’s cave by giving vent to some sound of entreaty. No sooner had he sprung upon the rocky shelf than I felt him crouching on its edge, and reaching down as if in the act of seizing something in his teeth, something so heavy, too, that it called for violent exertion. Whatever it was, I was not slow in discovering that he was endeavoring to drag itupon my rocky couch. Half rising, I stretched out my hand to solve the mystery.
O beloved Bulger!
In an outburst of affection I pressed my lips repeatedly upon his body. He took no note of my caresses, but only tugged the harder at the thing he held within his teeth. It was my blanket!
Taught in his early years to fetch my slippers, my gloves, my cap to me, when he found them lying here or there, he had never forgotten to render me these petty services. And thus, noticing that my blanket had, apparently, been forgotten, he seized it, heavy as it was and dragged it to his little master’s bed.
Regardless of Benè-agâ’s ire; unmindful of the fact that to accept Bulger’s gift was plainly an open breach of the compact between the blind hermit and me, I wrapped my bruised and aching body in the thick, warm covering and fell into a long refreshing sleep.
Such was my first night in Benè-agâ’s cave. The next day was bright and clear and the rocky chamber seemed less dismal to me. My eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom.
From morn till night, I shunned that bed of torture, passing my time studying out the hidden meaning of the words which Benè-agâ has carved on the rocky walls; watching the birds as they flitted in with food for their nestlings or standing near the blind hermit with my gaze riveted upon his noble features, thick, clustering hair and far-flowing beard!
From this time forth all went well. I soon forgot the long hours of that terrible night of silence and despair. Indeed, I was astounded to find how swiftly the time sped along when one gives himself up to deep and all-absorbing meditation.
Days and nights flitted by like alternate hours of light and darkness.
I was startled from a deep sleep by hearing the full round voice of Benè-agâ saying: “Up! up! little traveler, up! my son, the morn is breaking. The appointed hour has come! To-day we must enter Palin-mâ-Talin or all thy apprenticeship shall have been in vain!”
I sprang up; and, approaching Benè-agâ, related in tones ofunfeigned grief, how I had disregarded the sacred compact between us; and, that, altho’ it cut me to the heart, to be obliged to turn back, when I stood upon the very confines of the Great Gloomy Forest, yet I was not worthy to follow him, and was firmly resolved not to plead for mercy!
All! I told him all! how my frame had been so racked by pain that I was upon the very point of crying out for release from the terrible compact, when my beloved Bulger came to my relief, and saved me from that degradation. He heard me in silence, his noble countenance giving no sign or hint of what was going on within that lofty soul.
At last, a sad and almost imperceptible smile spread over his face and he spake as follows: “Take heart, my son. All is forgiven. Thou art but a child and I should have lightened the burden of this apprenticeship. Nor can I hold thee worthy of blame for yielding to such a touching proof of thy dog’s love for thee! Hadst thou repulsed him he would have lain in wakeful sorrow by thy bedside all that night—dear, faithful soul! Would he belonged to me!”
So saying, Benè-agâ bent his towering form and caressed Bulger’s head and ears.
Nor was Bulger slow in returning the hermit’s caresses. They had become the best of friends. Bulger felt the fascination of Benè-agâ’s mysterious power from the very first.
When the hour arrived for us to leave the rocky chamber of gloom and silence, and step out into the sunlight once more, my heart broke out into its old-time beat. Had I not been in the presence of the venerable Benè-agâ, I should have leapt and danced for joy, as we emerged from that dreary abode, and I felt the warm air fan my cheek once more. But, one thing struck me now most forcibly. It was the wonderful change which I noted in the blind hermit himself, when he stood in the sunlight and the morning breezes tossed the curls of his white, silken hair, like April winds making merry with a flock of snowflakes. First, his appearance was quite different from that to which I had become accustomed. A leathern cap crowned his massive head, and held his thick, rebellioushair somewhat in control. His wide-flowing beard had entirely disappeared beneath his rude garb, save where it clothed his face and neck. I saw at once that he was clad for work—for toilsome progress through Palin-mâ-Talin’s thick growth. In his right hand he carried a curious rod or wand, long, slender, polished and extremely flexible. I soon learned to wonder at his extraordinary skill in using this staff to guide his steps or discover the nature of any object not within the reach of his hands. A rude pouch or leather bag was swung across his shoulder.
The change in Benè-agâ’s manner was still more noticeable. To me, this change was as pleasing as it was unexpected. In a brief half hour he became another man. His deep, rich voice, soft and round as the sound of an organ-pipe took on a mellower tone! A faint smile wreathed his noble features, as the sunlight fell upon them. His step became quick and elastic, his movements brisk and agile. So wonderfully keen were his remaining senses that only the closest observer could have guessed that he was blind.
Turning in the direction of the spot where his dogs were at play, he startled me by breaking out into a joyous,—
“Yo ho! my children! Yo ho! my brothers! Here to me! Here to me!”
His dogs—Bulger among them—bounded forward with a loud chorus of barking. Benè-agâ caught the stranger’s voice. “It pains me deeply,” he cried, “to rob him of his playfellows, for I see him gamboling and sporting with my children!”
As the blind hermit stooped, his dogs, with loud cries of sorrow at parting, sprang up to lick his face and hands.
“Go, my children! Go, my brothers!” said Benè-agâ. “Content yourselves. I’ll come again soon, very soon, with love warmed by absence!”
All was now ready for the start. Beneath the rising sun I could see a long, dark line, far away, where earth and sky came together. It was Palin-mâ-Talin. Home of Darkness! The Great Gloomy Forest!
Thither Benè-agâ now directed his footsteps with astonishingrapidity of gait, tapping the ground with his long, polished wand as he hurried along!
Awe-struck, I followed my blind guide!
In comparison with such miraculous powers of hearing, smelling and feeling, my eyes were worthless. Ever and anon he called out to me:
“Guard thee well, my son, a viper stirred in the grass to thy left! Guard thee well, my son, to touch the leaves of the flowering shrub through which we are passing now—they are poisonous.”
“Guard thee well, my son, to taste the waters of the rivulet to which we are coming, until I have made trial of its purity.”
“Guard thee well, my son, to pluck one of the flowers which now delight thy eye, and charm thee with their odor. ’Tis next to death to breath their perfume close to thy nostrils.”
“Guard thee well, my son, to crush upon thy skin one of the little insects which now fill the air, lest thou spread a subtle poison o’er thy flesh!”
As we drew near to the outer edge of the Great Gloomy Forest, a strange joy lit up Benè-agâ’s face. He beat the air with his polished wand in graceful curves and circles, as he poured forth, half singing, half reciting, a sort of chant, invocation, or mysterious greeting to Palin-mâ-Talin, Home of Darkness!
As if charmed by the rich music of his own voice, his spirits ran higher and higher. At times he halted to catch the soft echoes as they came floating back on the wings of the morning air.
As nearly as I can remember Benè-agâ’s chant was something like this:
“O, la, la, la, la, l-a-a-a-a! Hail to thee, Palin-mâ-Talin. Shadowy Land! La, la! Lu, la, lo, li! Lu, la, lo, li! We are coming to thee, beloved Temple of Silence and Gloom! Let us into thy dark corridors, Palin-mâ-Talin Lo-il-la! Lo-il-la! Thou art victor! Palin-mâ-Talin, my beautiful! From thy buckler of darkness fall the Sun’s arrows, splintered and broken! O, la, la, la, la, la, l-a-a-aa-a-a! We are coming King of Gloom andStillness! Palin-mâ-Talin. O silent domain! Let us in from the roar and the glare! Let us in from the roofless world. We are near at hand, Palin-mâ-Talin! Swing open thy black portals! Lift thy veil of Gloom! Admit thy children into thy silent chambers. O, Palin-mâ-Talin, Lo-il-lo! Lo-il-lo! Lo-il-lo! Lo-il-l-a-a-a-a-a-a!”
At last we stood by the very edge of Palin-mâ-Talin.
Benè-agâ swept his polished wand against the foliage of one of the low-hanging, far-reaching branches; then, sprang forward and seizing a handful of the leaves, crushed them in his grasp and raised them to his nostrils. “This is not the gateway, my son” he cried, “we must turn farther northward!”
After about half an hour, he again halted and reaching out for a handful of the leaves inhaled their odor.
“Not yet! not yet!” he murmured. “Somewhat northward still! Be not troubled, my son. Thou see’st Palin-mâ-Talin with thine outward eye! Not so Benè-agâ! He must lay his hand upon the very walls of this Temple of Silence and Gloom ere he can see it!”
Suddenly the blind hermit paused. His thin nostrils quivered, his massive breast heaved convulsively. “We are almost there!” he spoke in measured tones. “I catch the perfume of the foliage which clothes the two ebon columns of the gateway.” I looked and saw before me two towering trees, whose wide-reaching branches swept the very ground. Side by side they stood, alike in size and grandeur. Benè-agâ passed his hand caressingly over the first branch which brushed his cheek and pressed its leaves to his lips; then, broke out into his wild chant once more.
I stood looking at the blind hermit and listening to his song of greeting, hardly knowing what to expect next when, suddenly, he threw himself upon his knees and crept under the far-reaching branches of one of these gigantic sentinels of the Great Gloomy Forest.
Bulger and I followed him! Thus it was we entered the domain of Palin-mâ-Talin, Home of Darkness. I shall not try to describe to you the solemn stillness, the mysterious twilightof the Great Gloomy Forest, nor to paint for you the wonderful beauty of the deep green mosses which covered rocks and trees: trailed from the swaying branches, carpeted the floorway, or hung like heavy canopies, from tree to tree, above our heads, and increased the gloom caused by the thick, interlacing foliage.
I had followed Benè-agâ’s noiseless footsteps about half a mile into the stilly depths of Palin-mâ-Talin when, I began to feel a strange chill creep over me; beginning at my very finger tips and pursuing its insidious way toward my very vitals. So rapidly did it run its benumbing course that I was upon the point of calling out to the Benè-agâ, when he halted; and having broken a twig from a tree with foliage of dark green and polished leaves, bade me eat them, saying:
“Palin-mâ-Talin does no harm to those that know him!”
I found the leaves pungent and agreeable to the taste. Their effect was magical. My limbs at once forgot their numbness and my step lost its heaviness.
We had now been several hours in the Great Gloomy Forest; and, thus far, Benè-agâ had advanced into its ever-increasing gloom—for night was falling, without a halt.
Had Benè-agâ had as many eyes as Argus and each of lynx’s power, he could not have pursued his way thro’ Palin-mâ-Talin’s gloomy corridors more easily and more securely. His polished wand flashed like a thing of life in his miraculously trained hand, touching everything, vibrating, swinging, advancing, retreating, with a rapidity, that my eyes could not follow.
“O, great master!” I called out to him, “let me not be presumptuous enough to speak to thee of things which should be left unstirred in the chambers of thy mind, but if it be permitted to me to know, tell me how thy rayless eyes can pierce this gloom and find a path thro’ this trackless forest, wrapt in the gloom and silence of ten thousand years!”
“It shall be as thou wishest, son;” replied the blind hermit “the little there is to know thou shall hear! But surely, thy young limbs must be weary. First let me make ready a bed for the night and spread some food and drink!”
So saying, he swung his leathern bag off his shoulder, tookfrom it a roll of dried skin and spread it on the ground; then, wrenching four pine boughs from a tree near by, he thrust them in the earth one at each corner of a square, and striking a spark with his tinder-box, set fire to the pitch which trickled down the boughs.
The flickering flames cast a thousand weird shadows on the trailing mosses and black shrouded trees, and filled the air with a grateful warmth.
Benè-agâ now drew forth some dried fruit and berries.
We ate in silence.
Bulger sniffed at the food but nothing more.
Our frugal repast concluded, the blind hermit took from his leathern pouch a sharp-pointed piece of flint with which he pierced the bark of a tree near our bivouac. Into the hole he thrust a slender reed. I was astonished to see a limpid liquid flow from the end of the reed. He filled a gourd with it and placing the drinking vessel in my hand said in a low, caressing voice:
“Drink, my son! ’Twill refresh and strengthen thee!”
I raised the gourd to my lips. The liquid was cool and sweet, and very pleasing to the taste.
“Drink as deep as thou wilt, my son,” cried Benè-agâ, “for Palin-mâ-Talin could slake the thirst of an army.”
Again I placed the gourd to my lips. This time I drank long and deep. A gentle warmth now coursed thro’ my limbs. My eye-lids sank downward, oppressed with a most delicious longing for sleep. Pillowing my head on Benè-agâ’s pouch, with my hand resting on my faithful Bulger’s head, I was soon wrapped in slumber.
When I awoke, it was still night. The pine knots had burned nearly out. There sat the blind hermit beside me. I could see that he was keeping watch. His head turned as I stirred.
“Thou hast asked me,” he began, to tell thee how I am able to find my way thro’ Palin-mâ-Talin’s gloom. Here, in this trackless home of shadow no outward eyes would avail me aught. Thou hast seen how the floor of this vast Temple is everywhere alike. For it, nature has woven a carpet of thick, velvet mosswhich, in the flight of centuries, takes on no change of hue. ’Tis ever the same! Tear a pathway in it, in a few short days the rent will be made whole. Blaze the trees, the encircling mosses will, in a brief period hide the marks, and all thy labor will be in vain. Even supposing that thou couldst succeed in leaving a lasting trail behind thee, the deadly poison which lurks in this damp air would chill thy life blood ere thou couldst cross from outer wall to outer wall of this vast Temple, with its roof of interwoven moss and foliage, impenetrable to the noonday sun.
“Thou hast felt the first touch of that deadly chill, which curdles the warmest blood and sends a sleep of death upon the rash intruder! But to me, O, my son, Palin-mâ-Talin is all light and glow! I cannot see that gloom which strikes such terror to thy soul. And thou must know, my son, that Palin-mâ-Talin has no shadows deep enough to hide the north star from my sight. I always know which way it was the sun went down, and which way it will be that he will rise; for all the winds are known to me, and whence they blow. To thy cheek the air appears to sleep at times. To mine, never! ’Tis no more a task for me to catch the breath-like zephyr—unfelt by thee—than it is for thy faithful dog to take up the trail of his master’s footsteps and follow it through the crowded mart. Then again, thou must bear in mind that for a hundred years and more I’ve been a shadowless figure in this, home of shadows; that the trees of Palin-mâ-Talin have taken me to their hearts, and I them to mine; that not only do I know how and where they grow, but it hath been revealed to me that these towering children of Palin-mâ-Talin are not scattered helter-skelter, here and there, in orderless manner; but, that in a certain measure, they are ranged in lines from the rising toward the setting sun, each species forming a belt to itself, not like a grove by man’s hand planted, but in a wild, yet orderly confusion. To thee, this would be a useless guide, for thou hast seen how the trunks are swathed up in garbs of moss, and how the gloom gives all the foliage the same deep-dark hue of green. To thine eye, here, all these trees seem alike, thecountless offspring of a single sire! And yet it is not so! For, when in my progress through these lofty corridors of gloom and silence I sway too far northward or southward, a single handful of leaves crushed in my grasp, gives up the secret of my whereabouts. But, even this sure guiding string has failed me at times, and I have gone astray in the home of my friend! And yet in such moments, Palin-mâ-Talin had no terrors for me! When thus, an aimless wanderer in this trackless wood, I learned to draw aside this garb of green which decks Palin-mâ-Talin’s breast, and lay my hand upon his very heart!
“So has kind nature sharpened my sense of feeling that by the simple touch of the clay beneath our feet I can set my erring footsteps right and regain my lost path. Be thou, my son, in coming years, as steadfast in thy search for truth as I have been in my endeavors to change this gloom and silence into living light and speech, and thou wilt walk through life’s devious paths as easily as I thread my way through the trackless chambers of Palin-mâ-Talin!”
As Benè-agâ ceased speaking, he lifted his song, making the trailing mosses sway with the vigor of his notes, now deep and solemn, now clear and far-reaching.
The echoes came back softened down to flute notes. He listened breathlessly.
“O wonderful man!” thought I, “even the sleeping echoes rouse themselves to guide thy footsteps aright.”
“Come, my son!” he cried in tones of gladness, “our torches go to their end. Let us push on! Though the sun be not yet high enough to chase the inky darkness out of Palin-mâ-Talin’s depths, still, with this guiding string thou canst follow me!”
Saying this, he placed the end of a leather thong in my hand, and we set out once more.
After we had been an hour or so under way, the sun’s rays began so to temper the darkness of the Great Gloomy Forest, that my eyes were of some slight use to me!
Again Benè-agâ broke out in a wild chant, and paused to catch the echo.
“Ah,” murmured the blind hermit, half in soliloquy “that was a greeting from the drowsy waters of Lool-pâ-Tool!”
Imagine the feeling of utter helplessness which came over me an hour or so later when, suddenly I found myself standing upon the banks of a broad streamlet, of hue blacker than the wings of night, apparently stagnant; or, at least so sluggish as to seem well deserving of the title “Drowsy Waters.”
“This is Lool-pâ-Tool!” said Benè-agâ, as he rested his chin on his hand and seemed to be gazing down on its inky surface.
But how to cross it, for no bark was moored in sight—was now the bewildering thought which oppressed my mind! Surely it cannot be forded, for to the eye it seemed as deep as it was silent and mysterious. Nor yet, would it be otherwise than inviting death itself to plunge into its stagnant waters and swim to the other side.
While I stood thus wrapped in a cloud of anxious thought, Benè-agâ himself seemed scarcely less perplexed. His usual calmness had deserted him.
Drawing some pebbles from his leather pouch, he cast them one by one into the stream, bending forward to catch the sound they made with eager, listening air. Then turning to the right he followed the banks of Lool-pâ-Tool, keeping his staff in the water and beating it gently with the tip as if striving to draw some secret from it.
Again he paused and cast some pebbles into the dark and sluggish stream, and bent forward to get their answer. Again, he woke the echoes, and listened breathlessly to the reply that came, only to take up the march after a brief delay with what seemed to me a somewhat hesitating step. Evidently he was astray. His calm, noble face lost its look of serene confidence. Suddenly halting, he reached out for a handful of foliage, crushed the leaves in a quick and nervous grasp, inhaled their odor, and then resumed his march as before, with head dropped forward on his breast, and doubt and uncertainty visible in every movement.
For an instant the thought flashed thro’ my mind that possibly Benè-agâ had gone so far astray as to make the discovery ofthe right course impossible. I could feel my lips draw apart, and my heart creep slowly upward into my throat!
The thought of a lingering death from starvation in the chill, dark corridors of Palin-mâ-Talin, set a knife in my heart.
I almost tottered as I followed the blind hermit’s lead. My tongue was too dry to let me cry out to him in my sudden despair.
While these terrible thoughts were chasing each other thro’ my mind, Benè-agâ halted; and, resting his staff upon the branches of the nearest tree, broke out into one of his wild invocations:
“O Palin-mâ-Talin, Benè-agâ calls unto thee! Hear him! He is astray! Set his feet in the right path! Let him not wander aimlessly about in thy gloom and silence. O, Palin-mâ-Talin! He is thy child; be kind and loving to him!”
With these words Benè-agâ threw himself upon his knees, tore away the thick covering of moss, until he had laid bare the forest floor; from this, he took up a handful of the soil and pressed it between his fingers as if to test some secret quality.
When he arose I knew that all was well. A radiant glow played about his features. He was himself again!
Catching up his wand, he broke away with mad strides, as if pursued by very demons. Only by running could I keep within sight of him.
On! on! we sped along the banks of Lool-pâ-Tool stream of the “Drowsy Watery,” mile by mile, Benè-agâ carolling his wild chants of glad thanks, I panting as if bent upon escaping fleshless death himself. Another hundred paces and I would have fallen headlong to the ground.
My feet seemed shod with lead.
Bulger set up a most piteous whining as he saw the look of despair settling on my face.
Suddenly the blind hermit halted; and, turning towards me, cried out in a joyous tone:
“This is the place my son. It is all over now! Fear nothing! Mount on my shoulders! Thou wilt not add afeather’s weight to the burdens which I carry there! Be not troubled about thy dog. Lool-pâ-Tool has no terrors for him.” Such was my confidence in the blind hermit’s power to bear me safety across the mysterious stream that I did not wait for a second bidding to mount upon his shoulders altho’ as far as I could see, the waters of Lool-pâ-Tool looked just as black and deep as ever. Advancing to the edge of the stream Benè-agâ now began, with quick and nervous movement of his staff, to search for hidden stepping stones.
In vain I strained my eyes to catch some sign of resting place for his feet.
And yet, they were there: for with giant strides, steady, sure and rapid, Benè-agâ passed over the “Drowsy Waters” of Lool-pâ-Tool and set me safety down on the other bank. I made effort to speak my thanks. But, wonderment had robbed my tongue of power of utterance. I could only gaze in silence upon that noble face—now clad in all its former serenity—then turn and follow its owner’s footsteps.
After a few miles further advance Benè-agâ halted, and, bending his gaze upon me, as if his eyes were as full of light as his look was of radiance, spoke as follows:
“My son, my task is done! Look, dost thou not see that gleam of light yonder? ’Tis the outer wall of Palin-mâ-Talin. Pass it and thou wilt enter the world of noise and glare once more! Thou hast no further need of me. Go straight on; and, in a brief half hour, the sun’s rays will greet thee again! Once outside of this pathless wood, thou wilt find thyself upon a lofty parapet—a sheer height of two hundred feet above the plains below. Look about thee and thou wilt see a stairway of solid rock, leading downward to the plain—not such as built by hands of man, with steps of even height, hewn regular and smooth, but a rude, fantastic flight of stairs left standing there by nature when she cleared away the mass each side. Upon these narrow steps, smoothed by the beating storms of ten thousand years, the waters daily pour a treacherous slime, so that those who have rashly tried to pass to the fair land below, now lie among the jagged rocks. No foot is sure enough totread on the slippery steps of Bōga-Drappa. To fall means certain death. I cannot counsel thee my son. Be wary! Be wise! Farewell.”
As this last word fell from Benè-agâ’s lips he flashed out of my sight like a spirit form.
The Palin-mâ-Talin covered him with her darkness.
He was gone.
The tears gathered in my eyes.
Fain would I have pressed its hand to my lips.
I knew it was useless for me to try and call him back or to follow him. So, with a heavy heart I turned and pressed forward in the direction he had indicated.
I was soon at the outer edge of Palin-mâ-Talin and to tell the truth I felt my heavy heart grow light again. Bulger too, showed his delight at being once more in the warm sunshine. Breaking out into the wildest barking he raced hither and thither with the joyous air of a boy set free from long and irksome task.
As Benè-agâ had described to me, I now found myself standing upon a lofty parapet, overlooking a delightful valley, thro’ which I longed to wander, after my long stay in Benè-agâ’s cave and the gloomy trail through Palin-mâ-Talin’s depths.
Walking along the edge of the cliff I was not long in coming upon the Stair of the Evil Spirit or Bōga-Drappa as it was called.
It was jagged, irregular and tilted here and there; and yet, quite even and stair-like when one considered that it was of nature’s building. As the blind hermit had warned me the treacherous slime covered Bōga-Drappa’s entire length, forever renewed by the impure waters which trickled down its steps.
To attempt to descend would have been worse than madness.
No human foot was sure enough to tread those slippery stones and reach the bottom.
Although I was impelled by the strongest desire to hasten forward I saw that a single rash act might end my life.
Ordinary obstacles have no terror for me. But when nature sets a threatening barrier in my way I halt, but do not surrender.
And, therefore, I sat calmly down to ponder over the problem that faced me.
For three days I tarried on this parapet and each day I visited Bōga-Drappa and gazed long and fixedly upon its far-reaching flight of rocky steps.
On the third day I had solved the problem.
Hastily gathering up every fragment of lime-stone lying near, I piled it in a cone-shaped heap and around it and over it I laid a mass of dry leaves and billets and over all such logs as I could lift. Then, striking fire with my flint and tinder I set the pile in flames.
In the morning I was rejoiced to find a heap of the purest quick-lime beneath the ashes.
By means of an empty skull of some animal of the deer family, which I found lying near, I at once began to feed the waters trickling over Bōga-Drappa’s steps with the lime.
All that day and up to the noon hour of the next, I kept the water which flowed down the stairway, milk white with the lime.
Now, however, came the greatest difficulty. From the size of the stream I realized that it would be impossible for me to stay its course by means of any dam that I could build, for a longer time than one brief half hour. But, I dared not wait too long, for the coating of lime, which, by this time I knew must have been deposited on the rocky steps, to harden in the sun.
The dam might break and undo all my work.
At high noon, when the sun was beating down the hottest, I put the last touch to my dam. I was startled to see with what rapidity the waters gathered in the basin I had built. With anxious eyes and throbbing heart, I stood at the head of Bōga-Drappa’s stair of rock and gazed up and down.
I could see no signs of drying on the black and glistening steps. One moment after another glided by. At last a faint trace of whiteness began to show itself here and there. I turned an anxious glance at the gathering waters. The frail dam seemed about to yield to the ever-increasing pressure.
In one or two places, I caught glimpses of tiny rivulets trickling through.
Once more, with a terrible feeling of faintness I glanced down the long dark flight of steps. Half blinded by the noon day sun I nevertheless caught sight of a snow white crust on the stairway.
Now was my time or never!
Calling out to Bulger to precede me I sprang boldly down the stair which, till that moment had been black with treacherous slime. The waters broke away and came rushing on my very heels. Down, down, I went in headlong haste, bounding like a deer from step to step!
My heart sank within me as I felt the torrent, now mad and raging spatter its spray on my neck.
Another instant and I’m saved! My feet strike firm.
I see the fair country come nearer and nearer.
Another leap, and with my faithful Bulger I’ve cleared the dreaded stairway of Bōga-Drappa! Staggering forward, I reach the greensward of the valley and fall fainting, after my terrible race for life!
Bulger’s mingled wailing and caresses roused me after a few moments of clouded brain and then all was well. And yet a shudder stole over me as I raised my eyes to take a last look at the rocky stairway of Bōga-Drappa, now clad once more in its black, glistening, treacherous slime.
Refreshed by a hearty meal upon the luscious fruit which grew in wonderful profusion on every side, followed by a deep draught of cool, clear spring water, and calling joyfully to my faithful Bulger to follow me, I set out for the distant summit of the ridge which shut in this peaceful little corner of the earth’s surface, so well fitted for the home of human beings, and yet so utterly abandoned and tenantless, even by four footed creatures. While, I am a great admirer of nature in all her aspects from wildest grandeur to picture-like delicacy, yet no spot which is not inhabited by man or beast, can long hold me content.
I must have life, not the dull spiritless life of tree, shrub or plant, ever-chained to one spot, but the restive, bounding, throbbing life of man or animal to study, contemplate andreflect upon. Therefore, it was that I determined to pass at once out of this beautiful little valley.
I pushed on with eager step for I was desirous of gaining the high land before nightfall. In this I was successful, but the twilight had so deepened when I reached the crest of the ridge, that any survey of the country lying beyond was impossible.
Shortly after I had lighted a bivouac fire, Bulger came in with a bird—of the quail kind—and I proceeded to broil it on the live embers.
The faithful animal was delighted to be once more in a country in which he could serve me and while our supper was cooking, took occasion to go through a number of his old tricks, in order to see his little master’s face brighten up.
Side by side, we lay down for the night in that far-away land, and were soon fast asleep.
The morning broke with rare splendor. I hastened to examine the country beneath me. It was dotted here and there by groves and bits of woodland and seemed unusually green and fruitful.
What attracted my attention more than anything else was the fact that, as far as my eye could reach, the region was watered by a perfect network of little rivers, which glistened in the morning sun like bands of burnished silver.
I had never seen the like. It occurred to me at once, that should these streams prove too deep and rapid to ford, it would force me to change my course entirely, and pass either to the north or south, until I reached a clear country. It was pretty well toward sundown when I stood upon the confines of this strange land which I named Polypotamo or “Many Rivers.” The streams, which varied from ten to twenty feet in width, were deep, clear and swift.
As you may readily imagine such a country was very productive. Fruit and flower-bearing shrubs and trees, all of a most beautiful green grew in the wildest abundance. The air, cooled and purified as it was by the numerous streams of limpid water, was like a magic inhalation, carrying a strange feeling of dreamy delight to every part of the body.
Said I to myself:
“If this fair land be not inhabited then it is a monstrous pity, for here kind nature has spread her riches with a more than usually lavish hand.”
Bulger and I stretched ourselves upon the bank of the first stream that we reached and were preparing for a nap after our long days tramp, when suddenly the strangest noises reached our ears. He started up with a look of mingled alarm and curiosity which, could I have seen my own face, I would undoubtedly have found pictured there in equally strong lines.
Louder and louder grew these curious sounds.
I listened with pricked-up ears, as I strained my eyes in the direction whence they came, eager to catch the first glimpse of the beings who uttered them.
I had not long to wait. About an eighth of a mile away, my eyes fell upon a sight, which, in spite of the possible dangers threatening my life, in case these creatures had proven to be vicious or savage, caused me to burst out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
There, in full view, was a troop of human creatures, dwarfish in stature—not being much over four feet in height—who seemed incapable of using their legs as we do; but moved about from one place to another by hopping, as some birds do, or as rabbits would do if they moved about standing upright on their hind legs.
In an instant they caught the sound of my voice; and, with the swiftness of the wind, and with an ease that astounded me, leaped over the two intervening streams—each of which was at least fifteen feet in width—and came bounding toward us with the same gigantic leaps! The whole thing was done so quickly, and the mode of locomotion was so novel and altogether wonderful, that I was surrounded before I knew what happened to me.
It is needless to say that I couldn’t understand their language, although I soon mastered it, consisting as it did of pure Aryan roots, no word being of more than three letters.
The Man-Hoppers—such was my translation of their name,Umi-Lobas—ranged themselves in a circle around Bulger and me, threw themselves on their faces, so to speak—for their arms were ridiculously out of all proportion to their bodies—and threatened with shrill outcries and menacing movements, to kick Bulger and me to death instantly unless we surrendered unconditionally.
It was a novel sight.