<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i027.png" width-obs="205" height-obs="220" alt="O" title="O" /></div>
<p class="st">FLORIMEL REACHES THE ENCHANTED<br/>
COUNTRY</p>
<p class="cap"><span class="upper">On</span> and on flew Prince Florimel
from the wicked uncle who
meant to do him harm.</p>
<p>The friendly stars shone down
to guide him on his way, but
just what that way was he did not
know. His only thought to put
the palace as far behind him as he
could, and at times he turned his
head to look back at its frowning,
shadowy walls that finally disappeared
from sight. Florimel gave a deep sigh of relief, but
did not relax his speed in the slightest.</p>
<p>The words of the faithful old Gando were strongly impressed
upon his mind, and he realized that the duke had designs
on his life. When it was discovered that he was missing,
a search would be made for him, and once in the power of the
duke it would go hard with him.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>So on he ran, and the few people whom he met paid little or
no heed to him, thinking perhaps that he was some frightened
peasant-child hastening to or from home upon some urgent
night-errand. And as he went, always further and further
away from the palace, the houses grew fewer and still fewer,
till finally he found himself out in the open country.</p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i028.png" width-obs="323" height-obs="249" alt="Conversation" title="" /></div>
<p>The stars were paling out, and by this time Florimel was very
tired, so that
when he saw a
hay-stack in a
field he quickly
sought it,
and burrowing
from sight
down into the
sweet-smelling
mass was soon
asleep.</p>
<p>The sun was
up when he
awoke refreshed.
He heard the cooling trickle of a brook hard by, and drank
thirstily, and laved his face and hands. Some distance off upon
a dew-spangled hillside thin smoke curled lazily up from the
thatched roof of a farmer’s cottage. Florimel who felt the
qualms of hunger drew nigh to it resolved to ask for food.</p>
<p>As he approached the cottage a dog stretched out in the doorway
to enjoy the first genial rays of the sun jumped up and
started to bark, but almost instantly his barks ceased, and he
wagged his tail instead with friendly violence.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>A stout, middle-aged woman with a kerchief on her head
came to the open door and eyed him questioningly.</p>
<p>“Good mother,” he said, with a winning smile, “may I trespass
upon your hospitality? I would fain break my fast, and
this coin will pay my way.”</p>
<p>“Food have we a-plenty, and to spare,” said the kind-hearted
woman, “so that you are welcome to it. But who are you, and
whence came you? You do not speak like a peasant’s
child.”</p>
<p>“Nay, I have some knowledge of fair speech,” said Florimel.
“Yet do I count myself one of the people. And I fare from
the city in quest of adventure. See, I have brought this bow
and quiver of arrows with me!”</p>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i029.png" width-obs="327" height-obs="255" alt="Mermaids" title="" /></div>
<p>“Then most
surely you will
find it,” said
the dame, “for
we live almost
on the edge of
the kingdom,
and beyond
that line of
deep woods
there is a
strange country
with adventure
enough, I
warrant you. But come with me, and sit you at the board.
My good man has gone to loose the sheep from the fold, and
will be back very soon.”<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>So Florimel followed his hostess into the plain kitchen, and
took his place at a bare wooden table while she busied herself
in the preparation of the meal. And, as he sat there, and she
was occupied with her task, there rose from outside a sudden
hub-bub, made up of the gallop of many horses’ hoofs, the clank
and rattle of swords and uniforms, and the jargon of excited
human voices.</p>
<p>The woman in great curiosity rushed from the oven to the
door, and Florimel jumped down from his chair, running after
her, and peering out from behind her.</p>
<p>“Soldiers!” she cried, astounded beyond measure. “What
are they doing here, I wonder?”</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i030.png" width-obs="381" height-obs="226" alt="LOOKING FOR BROWNIES" title="" /> <br/><span class="caption">LOOKING FOR BROWNIES</span></div>
<p>The farmer with cap in hand looked up at them, awed and
confused by their fine airs and magnificence, and while they
volleyed questions at him silently and stupidly shook his head,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</SPAN></span>
until at last in their impatience and disgust they put spurs to
their horses’ flanks and galloped off in clouds of dust.</p>
<p>Then the good man ran toward the house, suddenly finding
voice, and shouting at his wife:</p>
<p>“Here’s a great to do! The young Prince Florimel has
disappeared in the night, and the whole kingdom is
aroused!”</p>
<p>Then noticing Florimel for the first time he asked:</p>
<p>“But who is this?”</p>
<p>“A chance guest to break his fast with us,” said his wife.
“But let us eat before the food grows cold.”</p>
<p>So Florimel partook heartily of the plain fare of the farmer
and his wife, and throughout the meal the talk of his hosts was
of the missing
prince.</p>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i031.png" width-obs="307" height-obs="252" alt="Conversation" title="" /></div>
<p>“Poor lad!” said
the woman with a
sigh.</p>
<p>“I hope that all
is well with him.
Yet much I fear
this search for him
is vain. His uncle,
the duke, could
tell, I warrant,
what has happened
to him. But he
will never be heard of more, and the wicked duke will now be
king.” “You who have come from the city,” said the farmer
to Florimel, “no doubt some time have seen the poor<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</SPAN></span>
prince. What kind of a young lad was he? A likely one,
so I have heard.” “He had his faults,” admitted Florimel.
“He was very small of build—no taller than I. When last
I saw him he looked
not unlike me. I
doubt if he weighed a
penny weight more.”</p>
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<p>“Was he handsome?” asked the woman.</p>
<p>“Am I handsome?” asked Florimel in return.</p>
<p>“Candor compels me to tell you you are not,” she frankly
said, “though you are not ill-favored, either.”</p>
<p>“Still if I wore the prince’s attire,” said Florimel, “I would
be as handsome as he. But let us change the subject. You
spoke but a while ago of that strange country which lies adjacent
to this. In what manner is it strange?”</p>
<p>“But little is known of it,” said the woman, “for, in truth, it
is a place to be avoided. There are few humans bold enough to
penetrate its mysteries, for in the forests and dense undergrowth
are savage beasts that wreak harm. Often we can<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</SPAN></span>
hear their wild cries at night, and our hearts are chilled. And,
even if one escape the beasts, there are Brownies and fairies to
weave their mystic charm.”</p>
<p>“Are the Brownies there too?” asked Florimel, with interest.</p>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i033.png" width-obs="381" height-obs="342" alt="Beasts and Brownies" title="" /></div>
<p>“Aye, that they are!” said the woman. “But it is not the
Brownies that would hurt you. They are kind little creatures
who would help instead of harm you.”</p>
<p>“I would like to see them,” said Florimel reflectively.
“Many a night as I lay in my bed have I dreamed of the
Brownies.”</p>
<p>“See them you cannot,” said the woman decidedly, “since<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</SPAN></span>
you have not second sight. Many have tried to see the Brownies,
but they have failed through lack of supernatural vision.
But there are Brownies nevertheless, and they go everywhere.
Of that we have abundant proof, have we not, husband?”</p>
<p>“Aye!” said the farmer. “Once when I lay flat upon my
back, and the grain in the field was in danger of rot, the Brownies
came one night and harvested it. In the morning it was all
cut and stacked.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” the good wife hastened to add, “and that very same
night they churned the cream to butter.”</p>
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<p>“Are you sure the Brownies did it?” asked Florimel, in
surprise. “Who else but
the Brownies?” said the
farmer positively. “We had
set a bowl of cream for
that is all they ask, and next morning the cream was gone.
Wife, show him the bowl!”</p>
<p>The woman thereupon exhibited an empty blue delf bowl,
and Florimel was convinced. He rose with his hosts from
the table, and went to the doorway from which he gazed to the
far line of woods that now held such charm for him.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Let me pay you my faring, good people,” he said, “for I
would be on my way.”</p>
<p>“Nay, there is naught you owe us,” said the farmer, “for you
have been a welcome guest. You are a fine young lad, and I
have a fancy for you. You had better bide here with us.
There is work for you to do for your board and lodging. I
need someone to tend the sheep.”</p>
<p>“I thank you, my good man,” said Florimel, “but I must leave
you.”</p>
<p>“Whither would you go?”</p>
<p>“To that strange country of which your good wife spoke.”</p>
<p>“Say not so, young master,” implored the woman earnestly.
“There are wild beasts there waiting to devour you.”</p>
<p>“And there are wild beasts of men sometimes even more
terrible,” said Florimel. “I will take my chances with the
beasts. All that I have loved I have lost, so there is naught to
keep me. Each moment I tarry but adds to the danger that
encompasses me.”</p>
<p>“Master, can it be?—yes, it must be!” cried the man, with a
great light breaking upon him. “You are the prince!”</p>
<p>“Yes, I am indeed he!” said Florimel. “Convey word to
my uncle that I am gone, and that the child of the brother who
trusted in him will never trouble him again. If the people
choose him for their ruler, let the consequences be on their own
heads. And now farewell!”</p>
<p>With this last word on his lips he broke into a run. The man
with the best of intentions tried to follow in the hope of dissuading
him from his rash purpose, while his wife frantically
shouted for the young prince to come back.</p>
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<p>But with the bow and arrows that might mean so much to him<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</SPAN></span>
Florimel only increased his
pace, so that the other was
soon distanced. Finally the
man in despair gave up the
chase, and stood watching
until Florimel turned, waved
his hand, and disappeared
into the heavy growth of forest. And on
and on he went, though nothing extraordinary
befell him. So for three days he
continued, suffering neither from hunger nor from thirst, for
there were plenty of pure brooks at which he could lave and
drink, and it was the time of the delicious tomtom, a juicy fruit
everywhere in great abundance, which tasted like a banana
flavored with vanilla ice cream, and which had all the sustaining
qualities of beefsteak.</p>
<p>Of this Florimel partook heartily and at will, as well as of
berries and nuts, and when weary slept for precaution’s sake in<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</SPAN></span>
the forked branches of trees, with his rest broken only by the
crashing of some skulking animal through thick, tangled underbrush
in quest of prey or a long, drawn-out, shuddering night-cry
that would chill his blood and cause his heart for a moment
to cease its beat.</p>
<p>Still there were trees growing thickly together, and retarding
and making difficult one’s advance. But, just when he was
growing discouraged, they began to thin out, and he came into
more open spaces.</p>
<p>Finally he reached a tiny lake that shone like a turquoise in
a bowl-like formation at the base of a steep hill.</p>
</div>
<div class="figright"> <ANTIMG src="images/i036.png" width-obs="272" height-obs="243" alt="Eagle‘s nest" title="" /></div>
<p>A path ran up the hillside, and this evidently had been much
in use, for the grass was worn and trodden by many feet. On a
ledge there was an old,
decaying, leafless tree,
and on one of its gaunt,
top-branches that jutted
over the lake a pair
of intrepid eagles had
built their nest. Florimel
looked up and spied
the young eaglets who
were just old enough
to essay flight, selfishly
trying to crowd each
other out of their airy
structure of sticks and
straws. Far overhead their parents described invisible circles
in the sky, emitting as they did so harsh shrieks of pride.</p>
<p>While he gazed upward, thinking meanwhile that it was a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</SPAN></span>
strange abode for eagles to choose, in place of the customary
mountain-crag, he was suddenly startled by the savage roar of
beasts.</p>
<p>Quick as a flash he turned, and saw a wild, fierce, snarling
pack—a confused, horrifying vision of lions, tigers, and leopards—their
red tongues lolling from their watering mouths—their
nostrils dilated at the scent of human blood—flying with
leaps and bounds to rend and tear him apart and devour him.</p>
<p>Desperately he seized an arrow from the quiver, and placing
it in the bow pointed it at them and pulled back the cord.</p>
<p>But the cord snapped in twain, and the arrow fell harmlessly
to the ground.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i037.png" width-obs="373" height-obs="245" alt="Wild beasts" title="" /></div>
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