Part 3

“Boo hoo! Boo hoo!” cried Barak. “Mother is sad because she has no honey, and you have eaten it all up.”

“Good little fat boy,” said the bear, “there is another honey tree behind this one. I am very thirsty, and the water is a long way from here; bring me some water, and I will climb the tree and give you honey.”

Barak dried his tears and smiled.

“Good, big bear, bring me the honey first, then I will get the water for you.”

Now the bear was very thirsty indeed after having eaten so much sweet honey, and the sun was shining so fiercely that he really felt too hot and tired to walk to the water, while he could easily climb the honey tree. Barak stood under the tree, watching the bear, who quickly brought down a small piece of honeycomb.

“Give it to me to take to my mother,” said Barak.

“When I have drunk the water, you may have the honeycomb,” said the bear, watching the golden honey drop slowly from the comb. But even while he was speaking, Barak snatched the honeycomb away, and when the bear tried to get it back again, the little boy put it in his mouth, and the honey dropped down his throat.

“Where is the water you promised me?” growled the bear.

“I promised to get you some water if you gave me some honey, but you would not give me the honey.”

“You have eaten the honey,” cried the big bear.

“But you did not give it me, big bear; I took it.”

Then the big bear took up stones to kill the fat little black boy, who ran quickly behind a tree, and there was such a chasing around and around that tree that at last Barak got so tired he thought he must fall to the ground, but he kept on running, and he cried aloud to the Great Spirit to help him.

Now the Great Spirit knew that Barak had wanted the honey for his mother, and that he had only eaten it so that the big bear should not get it again. So when he heard the little boy cry to him for help when the big bear’s breath was hot on him as he ran, the kind Great Spirit was sorry for the little boy who had only been foolish.

“I will send a Shining One to help him,” he said.

How glad Barak was when a Shining One suddenly caught him up in his arms and ran away with him. It was a hot, hot day; but Barak could hear, first, the gurgle of a stream, then the sound of deep running water, and as he peeped over the shoulder of the Shining One to see if the bear were very near, he saw a strange sight, for as the Shining One ran, he dragged his right foot along the ground, and the earth opened and water flowed in the opening.

In and out among the trees, often doubling back, then on again, ran the Shining One, with the bear following fast. All day long they went, until the sun went down like a ball of fire and the moon rose looking very much like the fiery sun, showing that the next day would be another scorcher.

In the moonlight the big bear looked very terrible.

“He is coming nearer!” cried Barak. “Oh, don’t let him catch me!”

“Don’t be afraid,” said the Shining One, in a quiet voice that made Barak feel happy even in his fear. “Tell me what you can see following the bear?”

“Yarra Yarra it is,” said the boy joyfully; “a deep swift river flows in the track you make with your foot as you pass along.”

“And look in front of you now, what do you see there?”

“The sea, the beautiful sea,” said Barak.

“We will go on the sea to the Great Spirit who sent me when you called to Him for help; but the bear, who only thinks of revenge, will be caught between the river and the deep blue sea.”

And so it happened.

Barak was taken in the Shining One’s arms right up to the Great Spirit who had heard and answered his cry for help, and the bear, who only wanted revenge, was drowned.

Barak’s mother waited long for the honey. When she found no dear little black son coming back to her, she followed his tracks until she came to the tree from which the chase had begun. There she found marks of her dear boy’s feet, and knew he had been chased by a big, big bear. There, too, she found, where all had been dry and hard, a hole in the earth, as if some one had thrust in their foot with great force, and from this hole flowed water.

Barak’s mother followed the flowing water for many days, for she could not go fast like the Shining One. At last she came to the place where the water flowed into the sea, and there, on the seashore, was the big bear quite dead and harmless. Far away over the seas was a bright, beautiful light, and even as the lonely mother stood looking at it, the bright clouds parted, there came forth the Shining One, and as he left the golden glory Barak’s face shone out. He beckoned with his hand, and his mother heard him say, “Come with the Shining One, mother; I am waiting for you here.”

FORGET-ME-NOT

“Marie, Marie, go and make those boys cease their quarrelling.” It was the old housekeeper who ruled over “Sunny Farm” whose voice could be heard calling to Marie, her daughter, and the boys who were quarrelling were the seven sons of King Olaf, who, wishing them to be strong sturdy fellows, had sent them to live at a farm in the country, for they had all been ill, and the sweet fresh air and pure milk and the outdoor life would do more to make them strong and healthy than all the medicine in the world. So said the Court physician (who perhaps was tired of having to doctor such troublesome patients).

At first they enjoyed the free country life, but after a short time they tired of it, and longed for the excitement of town and the palace. At least, six out of the seven princes were tired of it, but the seventh, Prince Charlie, wished he might stay there always. His days were always full and happy, for, unless his brothers insisted upon his joining in their rough games, he followed the farmer at the animals’ feeding time, watched the chaff-cutting, and the hundred and one interesting things at the farm, and when he was tired would go indoors and sit in the big cool kitchen, where he was sure to find Marie, gentle, blue-eyed Marie, busily sewing, or, perchance, reading a book. Marie always greeted his entrance with a smile, and willingly read to him, or told him a story while she plied her needle. To-day, however, the princes had insisted that Charlie must join in their game, which consisted of each throwing up a golden ball at the same time to see which could throw his the highest. They all threw their balls at the same time, so, of course, it was quite impossible to say whose went highest, and a great noise and squabbling ensued. Such a noise that it disturbed the farmer’s wife in the kitchen, so she sent her little daughter Marie to make peace amongst them.

Out ran Marie to do her mother’s bidding, but at the door she saw an old bent man with a bundle of sticks on his back, and a wallet at his side. He was listening to the great hubbub coming from the field where the princes were quarrelling.

“Hey day! where away so fast?” he asked, as Marie was running past him after having made him a deep curtsey.

“Mother sent me to stop that dreadful noise, but I know it will be hard work. They are growing more and more disagreeable every day.”

She ran on, and, when she reached the princes, they were actually fighting with their fists. The only one who would listen to her pleading was Prince Charlie, who readily left his brothers and went with her back to the house.

When they entered the kitchen, the old bent man was enjoying a cup of tea. He looked up and asked how Marie had managed the quarrel, as the noise seemed as great as ever.

“They would not stop, at least, I mean that six of them would not. Of course Prince Charlie came away. He does not care for fights.”

“Ah, I’ll remember that,” said the Old Man, and that night, when the princes were in bed and asleep, the Old Man (who was no less a personage than the Old Man in the Moon, who had come to the earth for various reasons) went to the bedroom where lay the seven brothers, opened the golden ball of each (with the exception of Prince Charlie’s), then, holding each of the six in turn by the hair with his magic tweezers, he kept them suspended in the air until their size had become so small that they could easily be put in their golden balls, popped them in, closed the balls, and placed the six of them in his wallet.

All this had been done without a word being said to the farmer or his wife. The Old Man came back to the room, and sat down again by the fire, remarking that he would go to bed now, as the moon would be level with the earth at four o’clock, and he must be there punctually to step in and do his work. They had all risen to go to their rooms, when great thundering knocks resounded on the door, and a voice cried—

“Open in the King’s name!”

The farmer hastily unlocked the door, and there entered Prince Claude, the cousin of the seven princes. He was followed by several soldiers.

“Where is the King?” he demanded.

“In the palace, I suppose,” answered the farmer.

“The King is here,” said the Prince; “do you not know that the late King, the father of the seven princes, died yesterday, and I have come to take his eldest son back to the palace to be King in his father’s place?”

The farmer started to go to the room where the seven princes had slept, but he was stopped by the Old Man of the Moon.

“You need not go,” said the Old Man, “it is too late. This evening, after they had gone to bed, I did what your wife has so often asked me to do.”

“What was that?” they cried out together.

“Why, I took means to stop their quarrelling.”

Then he told them how he had done it, showed them the tweezers with which he had worked the magic, showed them also the six golden balls containing the six princes.

“There are only six,” said the farmer’s wife.

“Ah, yes, Prince Charlie ceased quarrelling when told to do so, therefore he is still sleeping in bed.”

“He, then, must be King in his father’s place,” said Prince Claude, but he did not mean what he said, for he had quickly formed the wicked plan of doing to Prince Charlie what the Old Man had done to the other princes.

When every one was in bed, and the house quite still and silent, Prince Claude went to the room where the Old Man slept, quietly took the magic tweezers and the wallet, and in a very few minutes had secured poor Prince Charlie in his own golden ball, and placed it with the other six in the wallet which he then placed by the Old Man’s side again.

At six o’clock, when the farmer roused the household, it was discovered that not only had the Old Man gone, but Prince Charlie had disappeared. Prince Claude pretended he knew nothing about it, and soon gladly set off for the palace, for he was the one who must now be King. Poor little Marie went about her work very sadly, taking long walks when she had time to do so, and asking every one she met if they had seen any one answering to the description of Prince Charlie.

Almost a year had gone by, when, one day, as she wandered about further from home than usual, she heard some one moaning, and going towards the spot from whence the sound came, she saw a man tied to a tree, his face all swollen and looking full of agony.

“Water, water, for the love of heaven, a few drops of water!”

“Poor man,” said tender-hearted Marie, and she soon brought him some water in her hat from the stream near by.

“You do not know me,” moaned the man, “but I know you, you are Marie of ‘Sunny Farm.’”

Of course Marie asked her usual question, and this time she got an answer. The man told her that he was Prince Claude. This she could not believe at first, for he was dressed in rags. He told her what he had done to Prince Charlie, how he had also gone to the palace, and had been crowned King, but that his conscience had troubled him so much that he had done many wicked and foolish things to try and forget his sin. He told her, too, how his subjects had rebelled against him, and had driven him away from the palace, and that robbers had set upon him, robbed and beaten him, taken away his good clothes, and put those rags upon him, and had then tied him to a tree, where, all through the hot day, he had been in sight of the water, and could not get a drop.

“You have been very wicked,” said Marie, “but at least you have told me where to look for dear Prince Charlie. I cannot cut the leather which binds you to the tree, so, before I set out to find Prince Charlie, I shall run back to the farm, and get my father to come and set you free.”

The farmer came, but long before he arrived Prince Claude was dead, and all that could be done for the wretched man was to bury him.

Not another instant did Marie lose. At once she set off on her long journey to the point where the moon touches the earth. For days and days she walked, begging food at houses by the way, and at last she reached the desired point; but, alas! when she saw the Old Man and asked him to give her back Prince Charlie’s ball, he told her that the balls were not in his keeping, and the only one to help her was the boatman who ferried a boat across daily from the moon to the stars, for the seven balls had been placed in the sky as seven stars. They waited until the queer boat came alongside the moon, and the Old Man helped Marie into the boat.

When the boatman heard Marie’s story and her request, he at once steered towards a point where shone seven stars in this fashion.

The one in the centre shone brightly, but those around it were dim and gave but little light. “That is Prince Charlie’s, I am sure,” said Marie, “the one in the middle;” and when she looked closely at it, she found a little mark that Prince Charlie had made upon it one day. How she thanked the boatman! But the boatman smiled at her sadly, for he knew that any one once touched by the magic tweezers and enclosed in the golden ball, could never be brought to life again.

The boatman rowed her back to the moon, and the Old Man helped her out gently and lovingly. “Kind little girl,” he said, “you can never see bonnie Prince Charlie again in this world, but take the ball to the earth, bury it in your garden, weep tears of loving sorrow over the tiny grave, and you will be rewarded.”

Marie clasped the ball lovingly. When she reached the earth again, she set off at once for home, hardly stopping to rest or eat by the way, for she wished to see what would happen when she buried the golden ball.

“Oh, my dear! my dear!” cried her mother, when Marie returned, “how I have missed you!”

“Little one, you must never go away again; we cannot spare you,” said her father.

“I shall never leave you again, dear mother and father; for all I love is here now.”

She buried the golden ball in her garden just under her bedroom window, and indeed she _did_ water the little grave with the tears of love, as the Old Man had told her to do, and the next time he came to visit the farm, she led him to the little grave, and, lo, it was covered with a pretty blue flower which had a tiny golden centre.

“Ah!” said the Old Man, “did I not tell you you would be rewarded?”

“The blue eyes and the golden hair of Prince Charlie will never be forgotten now; they seem to say to me, ‘Forget-me-not, forget-me-not,’” answered Marie.

And ever since that time the tiny flower has been called “Forget-me-not.”

THE PALACE OF TRUTH

There was once a King who had three sons, three such haughty sons, indeed they were as bad as it was possible for princes to be. Their mother had died when the youngest was a baby, and every one had petted and spoilt them until they had become unbearable. At last the Queen of the Fairies decided that if they were to do any good in the world as Princes, she had better have a hand in their education. Tutors they had had until at last there was not to be found any one in the Kingdom who would undertake to teach them. The present one had given notice that he meant to leave, but the Fairy Queen stopped that.

Their last day (for some time) amongst mortals had come. Oh, it had been a terrible day for every one in the Palace! It seemed as if the Princes had gone mad, and they had ended up by breaking every piece of crockery in every bedroom, little dreaming what hard work it would mean for them in Fairyland.

Night came, the three Princes were in bed and fast asleep. Suddenly they awoke, hearing their names distinctly called. Each Prince sat up in bed, gazing, in something like fear, at a lovely little vision, the Queen of the Fairies herself. They were only conscious of a beautiful face, above a shimmer of gold, looking sadly at them. “Princes you are called, but, unless the Fairies themselves help you, you will never be worthy of the title. You must come with me to the ‘Palace of Truth,’” said the Queen.

“Only give us one more chance,” they all said together.

“You have had too many chances already; get up and put on your clothes.”

They obeyed in silence.

“Turn out your pockets.” They obediently pulled out string, knives, and other things.

“Stand up in front of me and look at me.” The three Princes fixed their eyes upon the Fairy’s face. She waved her golden wand gently to and fro, and, as she waved it over them, they gradually grew smaller and smaller, until at last they were as tiny as it is possible for human beings to become.

“Now I shall call my carriage, and you may drive with me.” She called, her voice sounding like the tinkle of a silver bell, and in answer to her call, there came through the open window a carriage made of mother-of-pearl and drawn by butterflies. The drive really was delightful, and when they found themselves rapidly going over the Black Forest, they looked at each other joyfully.

“We have never been allowed to go near the Black Forest,” said Prince Thomas.

“No, that was the one thing we could not persuade any one to let us do, because it is haunted by hobgoblins and devils,” said Prince Richard.

“You are going there, now,” replied the Fairy, and to their astonishment the butterflies flew down to the ground in the very heart of the Forest. The three Princes got out of the carriage at a sign from the Fairy Queen. She then told them that their education in Fairyland had begun, and they must walk through the Forest until they arrived at the Palace of Truth.

She gave them each a present. Prince Thomas received a tiny walking-stick. Prince Richard two small round stones. Prince Henry a small box. The Princes thought these were stupid presents, but were afraid to say so; only they determined to throw them away as soon as they were alone.

All too soon the Fairy Queen drove away in her carriage, and the boys in fear took hold of hands, and tried to feel brave, but oh dear! how frightened they were! As long as they kept to a narrow path, which seemed to go on and on for miles, nothing happened, but if they wandered ever such a little way from the path, they heard growls and horrid noises, and saw creatures glaring at them. So they kept to the path and walked forward until they felt so weary that they really had to rest; so they sat down on the edge of the path, in the shade of a tree, and as they sat there they heard a curious grind, grind, grinding noise as of two stones grinding something between them.

Their curiosity at last made them go to try and discover what the noise really was, but, when they attempted to go near the bush from behind which the noise came, they were driven back by the silly little Stick that the Fairy had given Prince Thomas. It looked such a funny little thing as it went hoppity, hoppity, hop on its one leg that they could do nothing but roll on the ground and laugh, and then the silly Stick stood bolt upright with its crook turned towards them, and somehow it looked exactly like their last teacher. You see, it really was their last teacher turned into a stick by the Fairy, and given this work to do. When the Princes discovered the likeness in the Stick to the tutor, they laughed more than ever—indeed they laughed until they could laugh no more.

As they lay very still on the ground, tired with laughing, they heard the grinding sound cease. Prince Thomas jumped up quickly, and ran to look behind the bush. This time the Stick did not attempt to stop him. There he found three plates of bread and milk, three cups of coffee, and three slices of bread and butter. How the Princes enjoyed that meal, prepared by the Two Stones who, of course, were the two cooks from the Palace transformed by the Fairy. After breakfast, they went on their journey again, not because they wished to go, for indeed they wanted to lie still under the trees and be lazy, but the Stick drove them along, and, if one of them dared to go away from the right path, the Stick just whacked him until he went back to the path.

All day they went along that narrow path, only stopping for meals, and, when evening came, they were really tired and gladly followed the Stick to the shelter of a bush, where, to their surprise, they found three nice soft blankets. It did not take them long to roll themselves up snugly, and they were soon fast asleep. I know you have guessed that the blankets came out of the wee box given by the Fairy to Prince Henry.

For days and days they marched through the Forest, never seeming to get any nearer the end of it. Each day was just like that first one—The Stick compelled them to keep to the road, their meals were prepared by the Two Stones, and their blankets spread from the mysterious box.

At last one day they came in sight of an enormous tree, upon which grew golden apples, and, for the first time during their journey in the Forest, they saw people. But were they people? they looked like it, except for their noses, which were dreadfully long. Noses of all lengths they saw. There was one man whose nose wound round his legs and tripped him up when he tried to walk. “Keep away, keep away,” shouted this man, “take warning by me; if you eat of the fruit of this tree, if you even take a bite, you cannot leave off.” Even while he spoke, he kept on grabbing and eating. Fortunately for the Princes the Stick kept strict watch, and would not even let them go on the side near the tree, and when they were safely past, he hopped behind, to protect any of them running back to the fascinating fruit trees.

But soon they forgot all about the tree at the sight which met their eyes. Straight in front of them was a beautiful Palace, built of pure glass, and the narrow path along which they had journeyed for so many days led up to the very steps of the Palace. Hoppity, hoppity, hop went the Stick, leading the way. Open flew the door to admit them, but it closed with a bang when they were inside. Hoppity, hoppity, hop went the Stick down the big hall to a room at the far end, and when the Princes went into the room, the Stick hung itself upon a nail by the door, its work for the day being finished.

The room, which was to be their dining-room, play-room, and bedroom combined, for many days to come, was clean, but very plainly furnished with three beds, three chairs, a table, and an enormous cupboard on the top of which stood a big Noah’s Ark. The Princes tried to open the big cupboard, but could not; then they thought they would get the Noah’s Ark down and play with that, but it was so far out of their reach that even a chair held on top of another chair standing on the table was not high enough to get it down. The Princes gazed sadly at the coveted toy.