Part 16

Just then he heard "Wooed and married and a'" played as well as he could play it (this he only confessed silently to himself, he would on no account have let any one else say so), but on a bagpipe of the softest and moat silvery tone, and soon a band of bright little creatures came from among the green grass and bracken, and stopped directly in his path. All wore the full Highland dress, but the checks in the tartan looked as if made of precious stones, for they sparkled and glittered in the moonlight, till Alaister was almost dazzled by their brilliancy; the red cherry tufts on their bonnets shone with a clear calm light, like glowworms, but as he had never seen one of these, he mentally said "like anything." The party was headed by a piper, playing on pipes, the bag of which was a bluebell, the chaunter a hedgehog's bristle, and the ribbons made of dragonflies' wings. He was followed by the king and queen, who wore beautiful crowns, from which shot rays of variegated light; then came the train of followers, and round the whole ran three Will-of-the-Wisps. These were taller than the rest; from their hands, feet, and eyes came bright flashes like lightning, but their bodies were quite black and very slight.

When they halted in front of Alaister, the piper stopped playing, and even the Will-of-the-Wisps did not run quite so fast; the king and queen stepped forward, and asked who it was who dared to disturb their midnight march through their own domain, but such a hubbub arose amongst their followers that, without waiting for his answer, they turned to inquire into the cause.

This was very soon explained: it was an outburst of rage against the piper Alaister, with eager offers to bring forward proof of misconduct against him. These were immediately accepted, and an old fairy-elf was commanded to speak first.

There was now a dead silence, except when the night wind rustled amongst the birch branches, and bent the waving bracken, or some night bird uttered a wild cry. The old elf stepped forward, and then, by suddenly twisting his legs and arms together, and sinking his head between them, he changed into the cup, with the picture of the real king in the bottom, which stood on the chimney-piece of the room where the wedding feast had been held, and from this cup came a voice which repeated all the scornful words of Alaister against the fairies. When he ceased he resumed his former shape and retired; others were then called forward in his place, and took the form of cups, bowls, toddy ladles, and glosses, each repeating the same tale; but last of all appeared a lovely girl, who changed into the little square looking-glass in a red frame, in which Alaister had from time to time arranged his hair during that evening; and there was his face reflected in it, and it was his own voice which he now heard, and he saw his lips moving so distinctly, that he put up his hand to feel if he were really speaking, but his lips were still, and the loud ringing laugh of the glittering band made him feel so angry, that he tried to move away, but he then found that he was spell-bound, and must remain to be laughed at or ill-treated by his little enemies. Now Alaister was a very sensible man, so when he found that he must stay, he tried to look as if he liked to stay, and when he heard the king command that he should have his wish, and might play on their bagpipes that night, he smiled blandly, and took the little instrument, which looked like a large spider as it lay in the palm of his hand. In an instant it changed, and became as large as his own, which was carried off by one of the Will-of-the-Wisps, to whom he tried to say something civil, but before he could make up his mind what it was to be, the sprite was glancing amongst the trees far away.

Thinking it might be the wisest plan to conciliate the gude fouk, he played his best tunes, and never had they sounded so well, for the tones of the fairy pipe were far softer and sweeter than his own, and the fairies danced so lightly and nimbly, that he forgot it was against his will he had been ordered to play, and was sorry when the king waved his crystal sceptre, and, pointing to the moon, now fast sinking towards the distant hills, commanded his followers to return home. And now, of course, Alaister thought that he was to return home also, but no, he was commanded to follow, and in spite of himself he was obliged to run through the thick wood, down steep banks, and over rocks to the river-side, where a fleet of egg-shells came towards them at the fairies' call, and each jumping into one, they shoved off, laughing to see how Alaister plunged into the cold water, and how the Will-of-the-Wisps jostled against him in the deepest parts of the stream.

Wet and weary, he at length reached the cave, which seemed to be the home of the party, and where he found many already busily employed in making preparations for a meal.

The cave was hung with the trailing moss, called tod's-tail, while pieces of rock crystal, cairngorm, and amethyst reflected the light given out by the Will-of-the-Wisps, who suspended themselves like chandeliers from the stalactites which hung from the roof. The floor was thickly strewn with stag-horn moss, which formed a soft and elastic carpet. In the middle of the cave was a large mushroom, round which the fairies were now busy spreading the cloth, woven of the finest gossamer, and arranging the acorn-cups and dishes of delicate meats, which had been prepared during their absence by those who remained at home.

When all was ready, numbers of green beetles ran forward to the table and ranged themselves round it; on these the fairies sat as they feasted.

Never was there a merrier party; they laughed and talked, and pledged each other in bumpers of mountain dew, and sang sweetly while bunches of white hare-bells, which hung from the roof, chimed in as accompaniment.

All this time Alaister had stood looking on, wondering what was to happen to him, and not feeling quite at his ease, for he knew it was a mark of displeasure when the gude fouk ate without offering anything to the mortal who was present, and besides, the younger fairies every now and then made faces at him. At length the feast was ended, and the king called together the oldest of his followers, and retired to some distance from the rest, where, for a time, they held eager consultation. The king then advanced to Alaister and told him that as he had played so well for them that night, they had determined not to change him into a Will-of-the-Wisp, as was the fate of all who spoke ill of them, and who afterwards fell into their power, but they would send him out into the world again, under a ban which would follow him to the end of his life, but which they would leave him to discover. While his sentence was being pronounced, the Will-of-the-Wisps were much agitated, darting about the roof, and giving out streams of pale cold light; the white hare-bells rang mournfully, shaken by a creeping blast which circled round and round; cold drops fell from the roof and trickled feebly down the sides of the cave, while the voices of the elves' and fairies sounded harsh and shrill.

A Will-of-the-Wisp was then commanded to be his guide to the birch wood, and Alaister was again led through the river, up the rocks, and through the woods he had passed on his way to the cave.

Arrived at the wood, his guide vanished, and he found himself alone on a bright sunny morning, the dew-drops glistening on the grass, amongst which he joyfully discovered his pipes; but at the same time he saw that his clothes hung about him in tatters, and oh! how wet and tired he was with his night's work! He could not, however, show himself at Inverknickle in so disordered a state, so was obliged to remain in the wood till the evening, when he thought it safer to go home, in case his tormentors should again carry him off. When he reached his cottage, he told his wife that he had lost his way in the dark, and had torn his clothes on the brambles and bushes, amongst which he had got entangled; but not a word did he say about the fairies, lest he should offend them, and be carried off, and turned into a black Will-of-the-Wisp, and have to dance about every night in the cold moonlight, which was not at all Alaister's idea of real comfort.

Now Mrs Mackinnon had what is called "an ill tongue," and she did not spare poor Alaister as she turned over his torn garments; but he was well accustomed to her attacks, and had learnt that silence was his only safety, so he took one child on his knee as he sat by the fire, and rocked the cradle with his foot, in hopes of softening his wife's temper. As the evening advanced, she became pretty tired of having all the talk to herself, so sat down opposite him, and with a cross face, and in a sharp voice, asked what made him sit there without speaking,-- could not he tell her any news after being sae long away from his gude wife and the weans?

When this question was put, Alaister was always sure the scold was over, however cross the voice was in which it was asked; so he began at once to tell all the events of a harvest home at which he said he had been the night before, but he was at once stopped by an angry "Hout!" from his wife, and then followed a storm of abuse for telling her about things which had happened three years before; then, pointing to the fields of green oats that were to be seen all around, she asked him what sort of harvest home there could be at that time of year. Alaister was sorely puzzled, for certainly the corn was still green; but yet he felt sure it was only yesterday he had been at the harvest feast, and if not at that--where had he been? He could remember nothing of the wedding, and stared at his wife, who at last began to be alarmed at his perfectly stupid look, and said, "Is the man fey?" As soon as she said this, his night's adventure returned to his mind, and looking on the ground, he saw it alive with fairies, laughing and mocking him. Had it been earlier in the day, he would have run out of the house, but it was nearly dark, and the uncomfortable Will-of-the-Wisp came into his mind, so he sank down again in his chair, and shut his eyes, fully determined not to speak; but he could not keep this resolution. Again and again he was impelled to begin stories, and as often was he told that these things had happened years before. He then tried to play, but could remember none but the very oldest tunes, such as had been out of date for many years, and when, wearied in mind and body, he fell asleep, he dreamed of fairies and discomforts all night long.

Next day he set out again on his wanderings, hoping that it was only in his own house that the fairies would haunt him; but no--go where he would they were by him, nor could he tell any story which was not at least three years old. His former admirers, the women, now asked him, jeeringly, for "three-year-old news;" when he was seen coming towards a farm, he was treated almost as a beggar, and was sent to the back door, where he got a piece of oat-cake and a drink of milk, but was never asked into the house. Occasionally the servants asked him why he did not carry a wallet like other "puir bodies;" but Alaister, though often really in want, never would condescend to a wallet. By degrees he became more and more impoverished; he was thin, and had a look of great unhappiness. His hose hung over the heels of his worn shoes, from which the silver buckles had long since disappeared; his second-best kilt was very much the worse for wear, nor had he money to buy a new one; and as to the one he had worn on the night from which his woes dated, it had even beat the thrifty Mrs Mackinnon to get it into tolerable repair again.

In all the country side it had become the common expression, when any old story was told, "Hout! that's Piper's news;" and at last Alaister, feeling that he was despised where he had been respected, and laughed at by those at whom he had laughed, without even having a comfortable house in which to hide himself, for Mrs Mackinnon's tongue was more abusive than ever, determined to retire from the world.

Being in low spirits, of course he chose the most dismal spot he could find; it was a bleak glen, down which the north wind howled in winter, and in summer the sun hardly reached its depths; for the bare rocks were high and near each other, so that it was always cold and damp. But this suited Alaister's frame of mind. One chill day in autumn he crept into a sort of hollow in the rock; there was a constant trickle, trickle, trickle, down the sides of this hole, and the water soaked through blackened patches of liver-wort and moss; the floor was damp and slippery, and on it Alaister sat down to think how very uncomfortable he was, and to abuse the fairies as the cause of all his misfortunes.

It grew colder and colder, and darker and darker, and Alaister began half to repent of his determination to die in a cave, when a flash of light shone into the hollow, and in an instant his old acquaintances, the three Will-of-the-Wisps, were dancing round him in a more frenzied way than ever; now they were up in the roof, now out in the open air, now far back in the darkness where he thought there was only rock. But the cave seemed to become larger every moment, and the water dried up as the Will-of-the-Wisps darted along the sides, and then Alaister saw the well-remembered tod's-tail moss hang where liver-wort had been before, and stag's-horn moss again covered the dark floor. The air felt dry and warm, and a comfortable sleepy peace crept over the heart of the distressed piper; he began to think that, on the whole, it was more enjoyable to be in the fairies' cave than in a hay-loft on a gusty autumn night; and when the glittering band sparkled into their hall he smiled, and offered to play to them again, and soon they were all dancing merrily on the moss, for it was now too cold, even for fairies, to spend the whole night in the woods.

Then came the feast, and this time Alaister was given on acorn cup full of brightest mountain dew; and though he thought it a small allowance for a full-grown man, still he knew that the little creatures had no larger cups; and not to disappoint them or fail in his manners, he nodded to the king, and with a "Here's your very gude health, sir," emptied his cup. Immediately he sunk back on the floor and slept, for the dew that had been given him has, it is said, wonderful powers, making mortals forget their homes and former lives, and desire only to be with the fairies.

How long he slept no one can tell; he never more was seen: but on calm summer nights his pipes can be heard droning under ground, or in the sweet birch wood. From their being heard to this day it is supposed that those who enter the service of the fairies become immortal; but no one has ventured to watch the gambols of the "gude fouk," so as to ascertain whether it is Alaister himself who still leads their march, or whether another has succeeded him; indeed, the glen is more shunned than ever, and the cave goes by the name of the Piper's Cave in all that district, while the expression "Piper's news" is known over the whole world.

Story 9--CHAPTER ONE.

STORY NINE--THE GENIUS OF THE ATMOSPHERE.

High up on the side of a lofty mountain, overlooking the wide ocean, several boys were seated together on the moss and lichens which clothed the ground, and were the only vegetable productions of that elevated region. The bright sea sparkled in sunshine, far, far down below their feet, though hidden at times from their sight by the dark clouds which came rolling on, sometimes enveloping them in mist, and at others breaking asunder and floating away far inland towards other ranges of distant hills. High above their heads rose a succession of rugged peaks, black, barren, and fantastic in form, which the foot of man had never trod. The boys on a party of pleasure had climbed up from a town by the sea-side, and had brought with them, in knapsacks and baskets, a supply of provisions, which they now sat down to discuss. The keen pure air, and the exercise they had undergone, sharpened their appetites and raised their spirits, and they sat laughing and talking, and apparently enjoying themselves to the utmost. Far below their feet sea-fowl were skimming rapidly through the air, wheeling and circling, now descending to the bright water below, and then rising again up into the clear expanse of ether, rejoicing in their freedom. On a crag below them, near where she had built her nest, stood an osprey. With wings expanding she prepared to take her flight; then off with a cry of joy she flew, darting through the atmosphere, away, away, over the ocean, looking down upon the tall ships which sailed along slow and sluggishly compared to her rapid progress. The boys eagerly watched her till she was lost to sight in the distance.

"Oh, how I wish that I could fly, that I might skim over the world like that sea eagle!" cried one, clapping his hands; "what glorious fun would it not be? I should never consent to walk again. All other amusements would be tame and tasteless in comparison. Truly yes, it mast be a fine thing to be able to fly like a bird. To fly!--to fly! Away!--away!" The speaker as he uttered these words rose and stretched out his arms over the ocean, as if in imagination at all events he was about to spring off from his lofty perch, and to follow the course of the osprey.

His enthusiasm inspired his companions. One after the other exclaimed--

"Yes, indeed, it would be grand to be able to fly. Glorious to mount up into the sky, without having tediously to climb up a hill as we have done to-day; or to plunge down beneath the waves, like those wild fowl; or to skim, as they can, over the crests of the raging seas when storms blow furiously, or to float in sunshine on the calm bosom of the ocean."

"Ay, of all things I would rather be a bird," cried another. "An eagle, a hawk, an albatross; any bird which can fly far and swiftly. That is what I should like,--to fly, to fly, to fly!" Thus one after the other they all expressed themselves.

Suddenly, as they were speaking, a loud crashing noise was heard, and as, alarmed, they turned their heads, the rocks behind them opened, disclosing a vast and glittering cavern, out of which was seen slowly to advance, a lady, whose garments shone with a dazzling radiance. Her form was commanding, her face beautiful and benignant. The astonished and bewildered boys scarcely dared to gaze at her; but trembling and holding on to each other, they kept their eyes cost on the ground. She spoke, and her voice reassured them.

"You were all of you just now expressing a wish that you could fly," she said, in a sweet silvery tone. "Why do you thus with to possess a power for which your All-wise Creator has not designed you? Even could you by any means secure wings to your body, of size sufficient to lift you from the ground, your muscular powers are totally inadequate to work them; your senses are not adapted to the existence of a fast-flying bird; your brain would grow dizzy, your eyes dim, you would be unable to draw breath in the upper regions, through which your ambition would induce you to wing your flight; you would speedily destroy all your other senses. Be content with your lot. Still, if you have a good object for your wishes, perhaps under certain limitations they may be granted. Let me hear why you wish to enjoy the power of flying?"

The boys looked at each other, and then up at the face of the lady, and finding nothing in its calm expression to alarm them, one after the other replied, the eldest speaking first:--

"Because I should like to see what people are doing in the world," said he; "what nations are fighting with each other, and how the hostile armies are drawn up. I have read of fine processions, where priests walk with their sacred images, when kings come to be crowned, and when their subjects assemble to do them homage."

"You need not say more," observed the lady, and pointed to another boy.

"I should like to follow all those ships I see sailing out there," he answered; "I should like to visit the strange lands to which they are going, and to examine the curious things they bring back."

"You can accomplish thus much without flying," answered the lady; and passed on to another boy.

"I should like to fly, because it would be so curious to hover about over cities, to look into houses, and to watch what the inmates are doing," said the boy.

The lady shook her head. "Such an employment is utterly unworthy of an intelligent being," she answered; "you would make but an ill use of the power if you possessed it. What have you to urge as a reason for obtaining the power you wish for?" she inquired of a fourth boy.

"Oh! it would be so delightful to feel oneself floating up and down in the air; now rising high, high up like a lark, now skimming along over the smooth sea," he answered, giving expression to his words by the movement of his body.

"You evidently place the gratification of the senses above the employment of the higher powers of your nature. Such is but a bad claim for the possession of a new one."

In this manner the lady questioned several other boys, but she did not appear satisfied with any of their replies. At last she asked a slight and thoughtful boy, who had been sitting a little apart from the rest, why he had wished to possess the power of flying?

"That I may better comprehend the glories of nature, and understand what now appear the mysteries of the universe," he answered quietly, yet promptly; "whence the rains, and mists, and winds come, and whither they go. I would fly far away on the wings of the wind. I would visit distant lands, to observe their conformation, to discover new territories fit for the habitation of man. I would bear messages of comfort and consolation from those in one place to relatives far away. Oh! if I could fly, I am certain that I should never weary of the work I had to do."

"Well and wisely answered," replied the lady. "I am the Genius of the Atmosphere. The power you ask I cannot give you: but follow me; I may be able to afford you some of the gratification you so laudably desire."

The boy, without hesitation, followed the lady towards the rock from which she had emerged. It closed round him, and he found himself in a cavern of vast size, and glittering with gems of every hue, and of the richest water. The Genius cast on him a smiling look, when she saw that his attention was but little engrossed by these appearances.

"I cannot enable you to fly," she remarked, "but I can render you invisible, and bear you with me whither I go, even to the uttermost parts of the earth. Come, note well what you see. You may never again have the some opportunity of observing the wonders of nature."

As the Genius spoke, the boy found himself borne buoyantly from off the earth. He passed close by his companions, who were thoughtlessly laughing and talking as before, and on he rapidly floated, they neither observing him nor the Genius of the Atmosphere.

"Child of Earth, follow me," said the Genius; and the boy floated gently on, till he found himself in a region of perfect calms. Below him, as he looked towards the earth, he saw mountains of snow, and fields of ice glittering gloriously in the slanting rays of the sun.