Fairy dreams or, Wanderings in Elf-land
midnight, when he was awakened by a terrific rushing and roaring sound.
It was the Four Winds, each coming down his own ravine, and making for
the common centre. As they entered the valley Ernest could hear the
lost things which they had brought pattering on the ground all about
him, as they were dropped; but in another moment the Winds were upon
him, and almost senseless with the rapid motion, he found himself
whirled round and round, and up and up, and on and on, till it seemed
to him that they had flown beyond the stars. Suddenly he found himself
dropped softly to the earth, and heard the Winds entering a cave above
him with a hollow, rushing sound. Freeing himself with some difficulty
from the cloak, which had been wound about him by the rapid, circular
motion till it was almost as tight as his skin, Ernest looked about him.
He found himself upon the top of one of the highest mountains in the
whole world, entirely inaccessible to man, bird, or beast. All around
lay silence and perpetual snow, and it was owing to the soft bed of the
latter, upon which he had fallen, that Ernest found himself unhurt. The
cave in which dwelt the Four Winds lay above him, on the very crest of
the mountain. Creeping softly up to the mouth of the cavern, he peeped
cautiously in, and, finding himself unheeded by the Winds, who were
busy unloading themselves of the material for their suppers which they
had brought with them, crept through the narrow entrance and crouched
in a dark corner among some little Breezes which were sleeping there,
and looked curiously about him.
The cave was divided into four quarters by two deep, narrow cracks
or chasms, extending through its whole length and breadth. In each
division stood a chair and table, and at each table now sat a Wind
eating his supper. The reason of their being thus distinct Ernest
perceived was because the temperature in which each one delighted would
have been very disagreeable to either of his brothers, and so with the
food and drink which stood before them.
The North Wind was voraciously eating a great lump composed of narrow
strips of meat wound round and round into a ball, and then thoroughly
saturated with melted grease. Before him stood a bucket filled with
whale-oil, from which every few moments he drank greedily. His dress
was the skin of a polar bear, with the fur outside, which he wrapped
about him like a mantle. His face was red and full, his eyes, of a
bright, clear blue, sparkled frostily, his long, light hair hung about
his shoulders, and his bushy, flax-colored beard and moustache were
hung full of icicles.
His voice was deep and thunderous; and when he laughed, fragments of
the solid rock were shaken off and fell about him.
Next him sat the West Wind, whose name was Zephyrus, and Ernest at
once decided that he was by far the most prepossessing of the four
brothers. He was as tall as his neighbor the North, but not nearly so
heavy, looking strong, but yet graceful. His hair and curling beard
were of a dark brown, his eyes a dark gray, his teeth very white and
sound, and he had a particularly fresh and healthy glow shining through
the tan upon his cheeks. His voice and laugh were hearty and joyous,
but not so deep and rough as that of the North Wind. His table was
spread with ears of Indian corn, heads of wheat, a wild turkey, and a
large ham. He was drinking from a little cask of Catawba wine.
Next came the South Wind, sometimes called Auster, a slight,
dark-skinned youth, with straight, purple-black hair and glowing, dark
eyes. He looked pale and languid, and reclined in his chair as if he
wished it were a bed; his voice was soft and sighing, and he never
laughed.
Upon the table before him were bunches of grapes, oranges, melons,
bananas, and sugar-cane. For drink he pressed some orange juice into a
jar, and then sent one of the Breezes to fill it with snow, remarking
at the same time with a sigh, that sherbet was the only luxury which he
gained by living in this horribly cold cave with his brothers.
“Ho! ho!” laughed the North Wind. “Nothing could be more comfortable
than this cave, if only you will keep at your proper distance, and not
be melting me with your hot breath.”
“I have to breathe as fast as I can to keep a little circle of air warm
around my table,” murmured the South. “If I did not, you and East
would chill me to death.”
“Yes, you always run away when I come,” piped East. “How many times
I have whistled with delight at seeing how every thing would change
before me when I come stealing along at noon, after you have been
making a fine morning on earth. How the people begin to shiver and shut
down the windows and put on their shawls--how the flowers wither up,
and droop, and hang their heads--Ph-e-w!”
Thus spake Eurus, the East Wind, a thin, sallow, unhappy looking
person, with watery blue eyes, a peaked blue nose, and a withered,
crooked form. He looked bilious and ill-natured, had a shrill, whining
voice, and never laughed, although he whistled a great deal in a very
sharp, ill-natured manner. His supper consisted of a little rice, a
raw fish, which he had whipped up as he came sweeping over the Atlantic
Ocean, and a great bowl of tea which he had brought from China.
Supper ended, the North Wind, whom his brothers addressed as Boreas,
stretched himself, and said,--
“Well, I’m off! I have got some ships jammed up there near the Pole,
and I’m going to blow ’em out. I wish these navigators, as they call
themselves, would stay away. They come creeping along up there, and
you always help them, Auster, which I think is very ill-natured of
you; and then I have to get ’em out after they’re blocked in, or if I
don’t come, the sailors plague my life out whistling for me. Pretty
soon, too, I shall have to drive down the snow clouds. I have got a
nice flock of them waiting up there at the Pole. I am going to make a
tremendous winter of it.”
“Yes, winter is your time, and spring is mine,” said Eurus, the East
Wind. “Auster and I, between us, will soon drive you from the field
when we set about it. Just now, though, I have got a fine little lot of
vessels to attend to on the Atlantic coast. I am going to drive them on
the rocks, and then, how I’ll whistle through the ropes--Ph-e-w! They
call some of the ropes shrouds,--a capital name when I get hold of ’em.
Then I have a good deal to do in China. I suppose they are waiting for
me to get their ships out of the river. If I feel good-natured I’ll
do it; if not, I’ll leave em just at low tide, and let them pull for
themselves. It does me good to plague these mortals.”
“It does you good to plague anybody, I believe, Eurus,” sighed Auster.
“I am sure you are always thwarting me. I am going to visit the tropics
to-morrow, and shall leave the northern regions to Boreas, Zephyrus,
and you, for several months.”
“What route do you take, brother?” asked Zephyrus; “for I don’t wish to
interfere with you.”
“I am going through the forest of Gnomes, and then straight down to
Quito. I like to see the Gnomes at work, they look so warm. Where are
you going, brother?”
“I don’t know,” said Zephyrus. “I have some whalers to help round Cape
Horn, and then I think I shall go and see Boreas. He and I do nicely
together, when he is not too savage. Let us each take a turn at the
flute, to see if our voices are in tune, and then be off.”
So saying, Zephyrus took from a shelf behind him an instrument shaped
something like a German flute, and played a piece of spirited martial
music upon it, with great taste and execution.
He then passed the flute to the North Wind, who roared through it
a stormy Norwegian Berserker song, and then threw it to East, who
squealed out a favorite Chinese air, with very high notes and very
little variety. Auster, the South, was the next performer, and played a
fandango, followed by the tune of a languishing love-song.
The flute was then replaced on its shelf, and as it wanted an hour of
sunrise, the usual hour for the brothers to set out upon their day’s
journey, each composed himself for a little nap.
As soon as the Four Winds and all the Breezes and Zephyrs were sound
asleep, Ernest stole softly from his place of concealment, took the
flute, disjointed it, and placed it in his breast; then, creeping
carefully under the loose mantle of the South Wind, he tied himself
firmly to one of his legs (for all the Winds were four or five times as
large as common men), and waited anxiously for sunrise, which he knew
would awake all four brothers.
The moment at last arrived; Boreas, Zephyrus, and Eurus, one after the
other awoke, and left the cave; and last of all, Auster, who, finding
himself belated, rushed through the narrow opening with great velocity,
without noticing at all in his hurry the passenger whom he was taking
with him.
After traversing with the speed of the “winds” many a mile of sea and
land, Ernest found that his conductor was pausing in the tops of some
high pine trees in the centre of a vast forest.
Peering cautiously down, the young man perceived some little yellow
figures running about among the trees, diving suddenly into the earth,
and as suddenly reappearing upon its surface. Ernest at once concluded
that this must be the forest of the Gnomes, and, hastily untying the
scarf with which he had bound himself to the South Wind, he slipped off
into the top of a tree and scrambled down the branches, leaving the
Wind languidly sighing and moaning before taking a fresh start.
Having reached the lower branch of the tree which he had selected,
Ernest looked attentively about him. The little yellow men were still
running about as busily as ever, and did not seem to have heard his
approach. They seemed to be employed in bringing little scales and
particles of gold from beneath the ground and scattering it upon the
earth; and Ernest, noticing that the trees and shrubs grew greener and
larger as they did so, concluded that the Gnomes were watering their
garden. Presently he noticed that directly at the foot of the tree
where he crouched was one of the holes by which the Gnomes continually
emerged and reëntered, and, seizing a moment when it was empty, Ernest
dropped himself directly into it, and found himself at the top of a
long flight of rocky steps. For a moment the Gnomes stood motionless
with astonishment at this sudden apparition; but as soon as they
perceived the intruder was a man, they rushed toward him, each armed
with the little pick-axe which he wore in his belt; and although each
Gnome was very small, their numbers made them formidable.
However, the instant he touched ground, Ernest had pulled the flute
from his bosom and commenced putting it together. As he did so, he
noticed that there were four mouthpieces, each marked with the name
of a Wind, and, selecting that of the South as likely to be the most
soothing, he began to play as he had seen the Winds do. To his pleasure
and surprise--for he knew nothing about music--the flute played the
same airs which it had done when the South Wind blew into it, and
the Gnomes, dropping their weapons, sunk down upon the ground, and
presently fell fast asleep.
As soon as Ernest was sure that they were so, he began to descend the
steps, which wound round and round, constantly descending, so that
very soon not a ray of light was to be seen. Then he stopped playing,
and, indeed, all his breath was no more than sufficient to support
him in the close and heavy atmosphere in which he found himself. At
last the steps ended in a narrow passage, and Ernest proceeded a long
distance through it in total dark and silence, guiding himself by
feeling the cold, dripping walls at each side, which seemed hewn out of
the solid rock, and was so low and narrow that he was obliged to stoop