CHAPTER XIII

THE BURNING MOUNTAIN

On, on through the night they rode, and one by one the stars appeared as the great storm clouds drifted away, borne on the current of friendly winds.

“Where are we going?” asked Ruth.

“We will let the Horse take us where he will,” said David. “He deserves to have his own way now, having served us so faithfully and so well.”

On they flew; and as morning stole into the sky and the stars began to grow pale, the great wingèd creature dropped down nearer to the earth, so that they just skimmed over the tree tops. In a few moments they came to the wonderful crystal pool where David

had waited and watched so patiently a short time before.

“Ruth,” he cried in delight, “here we are at the beautiful pool again! We will linger here till noontime and refresh ourselves. It is the most beautiful spot imaginable, and I longed to have you see it.”

The Horse settled down on the soft sward, and David and Ruth sprang from its back, glad to feel once more the firm earth under them. They refreshed themselves, drinking of the clear cool water; they rested in the soft moss; they gathered fruit and berries in the woods near at hand. They told one another of all that had taken place; and there was much to relate, much to rejoice over, much to remember, and much to regret. They were so happy that time passed by unheeded, and the great sun touched the horizon before they noticed that the day was spent.

“David,” cried Ruth, “the day is gone! and we have done nothing to bring us nearer to the Garden.”

“Nothing, save to free you from the Bronze King’s Palace,” answered David laughing. “To-day you were to be his bride.”

Ruth shuddered. “It all seems so long ago--I forgot it happened but to-day,” she said.

They called their faithful Horse to them and mounted upon his back.

“Up!” said David, “up into the sky above, till through the darkness from some great height we can see the Burning Mountain.” The Horse obeyed, and they rose into the night as the twilight deepened. Up, up, till the stars overhead seemed so near that they fancied they could almost touch them. Far, far away in the distance they saw the Burning Mountain.

“There!” cried David. “We must go over _that_, for beyond that lies the Garden.”

“Let us go round it,” said Ruth. “It will not be so hard for us to do that.”

“No,” said David, “we must go _over_ it. Only so can we be sure of reaching our goal.”

“The air in the high regions is so hard to breathe,” said Ruth.

“Yes,” answered David, “but I will do all that I can to help you endure it.”

Soon they came nearer and nearer to the Burning Mountain. The flames rose high, so high that they seemed almost to burn the stars, and the heat was terrific. It was necessary to fly far up, and the air was so thin that it was almost impossible for them to breathe. It was very, very hard for the poor Horse. Sometimes he would drop down nearer the mountainside, hoping to be able to breathe more easily there; but the heat at that altitude was so fierce that it was impossible to endure it, and he rose upward again.

Ruth said nothing, but the blood ran from her ears and nose and mouth. Twice she fainted, losing all consciousness, so that David had to hold her poor limp body to keep her from falling. David himself fought the supreme battle of his life. Nothing that he had ever attempted could compare with this, as a test of courage and endurance.

But at last the great Burning Mountain lay behind them, and they could with safety sink down to the plain, where the air was less thin and breathing would be normal. They came out into a country where they could rest, for the great, terrible Mountain towered far in the distance. Here they wished to descend, to rest upon the ground and gain strength before pursuing their journey. In accord with David’s wishes, the Horse descended, and they found themselves in a country filled with little trees and shrubs. They rested for some time, refreshing themselves with water from a beautiful stream near which they had alighted. The country seemed to abound in berries and fruits.

David knew that there would be no further need of the Horse; and even Ruth was quite ready to let the creature go, for this last flight had been most perilous and fraught with fears. So David called the good Horse to him and said: “My faithful One, you shall have your liberty. Only, first, you must fly to the little cabin in the woods. Return to Wisdom’s Brother, and he will take the bridle and the golden bit from your mouth. Then you will be free once more.”

David stroked the silken coat as he spoke, and the Horse rubbed against his master’s sleeve and nibbled it in affectionate play. Then, stretching his great wings, he rose from the ground and was soon lost in the vastness of the deep sky above.