Tales Before Tolkien (9 page)

As he walked along, meditating upon this point, he came suddenly upon a very little man, sitting on a faggot, and sharpening a stick with a penknife. Little indeed was his body, but his head was enormously big; his hair was red, his nose was hooked, and he squinted fearfully. Joe didn't like the looks of him a bit, but he thought to himself that it was wrong to judge by appearances, and that, if the worst came to the worst, he could manage to get the better of such a chap as that in a fair stand-up fight. So he bowed civilly, and without more ado asked the little man if he could show him the way out of the forest.

The little man instantly jumped up, squinting more than ever, and, looking Joe straight in the face, exclaimed, in a voice so harsh and unpleasant as to increase the feeling of distrust which had already taken possession of the traveller—

“Out of the forest? Eggs and nuts! that I can, my fine fellow. Follow me, and I'll soon put you right;” and so saying, he set off at a short trot, stopping every moment to beckon Joe to follow. Joe began to do so; but scarcely had he gone a step, before a low sigh seemed to steal across his ear, like that which he had heard under the fir-tree the day before, and, being wiser by experience, he immediately came to a full stop. His companion turned round upon this, and sharply asked him what he was about?

“It strikes me,” replied Joe, “that you are not leading me the right way out of the wood.”

“Strikes you?” answered the little man, angrily; “
what
strikes you, and
who
strikes you, and what do you mean by it? If you know the way better than I do, you had better go first; and if not, follow me without any nonsense. Don't suppose that
I'm
to be humbugged; come on!” and with these words he walked close up to Joe Brown, and taking hold of his coat with one hand, pointed with the other in the direction he had been going.

Joe still hesitated. “You see,” he said, “this is a queer sort of place, and I've been in one bad scrape already.”

“You'll be in another in half a minute,” said his guide, “if you're such a fool as to stand shilly-shallying here;” and without more to-do he gave Joe such a pull by the coat as nearly threw him off his balance, and made him aware that there was more strength in the little man than he had thought possible in so small a body.

“I wish I could consult Puss-cat Mew,” he said, almost without meaning to speak; and the words were scarcely out of his mouth, when a low, angry purr was heard, and, springing in suddenly between Joe and his companion, Puss-cat Mew, without the least warning, gave the latter such a scratch down his ugly face, that the blood followed the marks of her claws immediately, and the victim roared aloud, and struck a fearful blow at the Cat. This, however, she easily avoided, and in the short battle which followed not once could the little man strike her; whilst she, darting in at every opportunity, so scratched his head and face, that he presently fled bellowing into the wood with all possible speed, and left the astonished Joe alone with his faithful friend.

Joe now hoped that he should receive some explanation from the Cat as to what had just occurred, and some plain directions as to what course he was to pursue in order to get out of the forest; for although it was undoubtedly a fine thing to have such good friends there to save him from Ogres and other enemies, he by no means desired to spend the rest of his life in that particular place.

Puss-cat Mew, however, said never a word; and yet Joe thought she must be able to speak, because he was very sure that it was from her that the words “Stand hard, Joey,” came when they first met. All she did, after looking up at him in a friendly manner, and rubbing against his leg, was to trot on into the wood, and beckon with her fore-paw for him to follow, which he did without the least hesitation. They went on and on under the high trees for some little way, until, as they were slowly descending a hill where the underwood was somewhat thicker, Joe thought he heard again the distant shout of an Ogre. He pulled up short, but, as the Cat beckoned to him and seemed to frown, soon went on again, and at the bottom of the hill saw that the wood fell away gradually from an open grassy space, in the middle of which bubbled up a clear spring of water, from which a stream seemed to take its birth, and to flow merrily forward into the woods below.

Puss-cat Mew paused at the edge of the wood, where the open space began, and without entering it herself, pointed to Joe, and made signs that he should do so; which he immediately did. Hardly had he set foot within the space and trod upon the green grass, than there sprang up around him a myriad Fairy forms, like those that children see in the Christmas pantomimes, only smaller and prettier; and oh! so graceful in every movement that it was marvellous to see them. They formed a circle round the astonished Joe, and began a dance, the like of which he had never seen or heard of before, whilst at the same time they were accompanied by the sweetest possible music, which proceeded from invisible minstrels.

Joe stood entranced and delighted; this was indeed Fairyland, and to have seen such a sight and heard such sounds was really worth the dangers which he had encountered. After the dancing had continued for some little time, the Fairy forms fell back behind the fountain, in front of which Joe was standing, and ranged themselves in a semicircle, whilst one of their number, coming forward and standing under the very spray of the water as it bubbled up, sang sweetly forth the following words:—

“Seldom is a Mortal seen

On the magic Fairy Green;

Seldom will the Fairies rise

Thus to dance for mortal eyes;

Seldom may a Mortal hear

Strains to Fairy minstrel dear.

Mortal! since to thee kind Fate

Gives these glades to penetrate,

Listen with an awe profound

Whilst I tell of foes around;

Listen, ere thou longer stray,

Hear my mandate—and obey.

Wherefore didst thou come to roam

All around the Ogres' home?

Daring Mortal! were it not

Plot is met by counterplot,

Ere thou reach'dst Fairy Green

Food for Ogres thou hadst been.

Seven Ogres, fierce and strong,

Terrify this forest long;

Slaves to whom there likewise be

Dwarfs of might—in number three.

Then beware, thou miller's son,

Of these Dwarfs speak thou to none;

Trust alone to Fairies true

And the faithful Puss-cat Mew.

Thus I give thee, on our green,

Message from the Fairy Queen!”

Here the Fairy stopped; and Joe, who was no great poet, but of a practical turn of mind, took off his hat, as civilly as he could, and with great respect addressed her in the following words:—

“If you please, ma'am,
would
you be kind enough to speak for once without rhyme, and tell me how I can get out of this forest?”

With a gracious smile, the Fairy instantly replied.

“Joe Brown,” said she, “you must be well aware that the universal custom of Fairies all over the world, and at all times, has been to speak in verse, and to address by the general term ‘Mortal' the individual whom they honoured by speaking to him. But as you are a good sort of fellow, and I am directed by our Queen to do what I can for you, I have no objection to give you a little information in English prose. You must know that the seven Ogres who inhabit a castle in the middle of this wood are about the worst Ogres, as well as the greatest scamps, in the country. Old Grindbones is the chief one; and Smashman, his nephew, is every bit as bad as he: the other five are of an inferior class; but no man, woman, or child is safe within half a mile of any of them. We Fairies have done, and still do, everything that can be done, to protect the unhappy people who
will
keep coming into the forest; but, of course, we have other things to do, and we cannot be always bothering ourselves with these matters, which really ought to be settled by the Rural Police. What makes it much worse is the recent arrival of three Dwarfs, who have bound themselves to serve the Ogres for a certain payment, and who do their best to entice travellers to the castle of their masters. The names of these dwarfs are Juff, Jumper, and Gandleperry; and, fortunately for you, it was Jumper whom you lately met, and whose very appearance set you upon your guard. Had it been Gandleperry, I would not have answered for the consequences, for a slyer or more arrant knave doesn't exist. However, all you have now to do is, to walk quite straight forward, and on no account either scratch your left leg or turn your head round for a moment. If you do, evil may follow; if not, half a mile will bring you to the edge of the wood; when, if you stand upon your head whilst you count ten, throw up your hat in the air twice, and take off your boots and carry them in your hand, you will find yourself able to leave the forest and go where you will.”

Having made this speech, which the White Cat told the Brown Kitten was supposed to be the very longest ever made by a Fairy, the pretty creature gracefully waved her hand to Joe, and in a moment the whole of the party vanished from his sight. He stood for a moment plunged in thought, and then boldly stepped forward, determined, at all hazards, to get out of the wood. Half a mile was no great distance, and he thought it would be easy enough to do as he had been told by his kind adviser. He had not gone ten yards, however, before his right leg began to itch violently, just as happens to people when they walk across the corn-fields directly after harvest. Without a thought, he stooped down, and relieved it by a violent and comfortable scratching. Then his left leg began to itch horribly too; but just as he was going to treat it in the same manner, he remembered the Fairy's warning, and stopped himself in time. Oh! how he longed to scratch his leg! but he bravely bore it, and went on as fast as he could. He was half-way to the edge of the wood, when he heard a voice behind him, calling out—

“Joe! Joe Brown! stop a minute, will ye?”

But the warning had been so lately given, that he never turned his head and only hurried on all the faster. He was actually within twenty yards of the outside, and in another minute would have been there—and this story, for all I know, would never have been written—when, close behind him, he heard a scream, a loud scream, which startled him so as to make him forget everything he had been thinking of before. It was the voice of a woman in distress, and, to his ears, sounded as if it was certainly the voice of his own mother.

“Oh Joe, dear Joe,” it said, in heartrending accents, “don't leave me behind,
please
don't. I'm caught in the brambles here, and can't get on anyhow.”

Joe loved his mother dearly, and without thinking for a moment of anything else, turned round, head and all, and made for the thicket whence the sound had come. He reached it, but could see no mother, nor indeed any woman at all. What he
did
see, however, was more remarkable than comforting. A Dwarf was sitting upon a fallen tree, with his two thumbs one in each of his waistcoat-pockets, peering into the thicket, as if he was looking for something. Very unlike the Dwarf whom Joe had met before was this little man. He was older, had a black coat and buff waistcoat on, and his face was by no means disagreeable to look at, if there had not been a certain odd appearance about his eyes, which made Joe feel at once that he was a deep old fellow, who knew what was what as well as most people.

“Did you scream, sir?” said Joe.

“Scream, sir?—no, sir: I did
not
scream,” answered the Dwarf, with perfect politeness; “but I certainly
heard
a scream, sir, and a woman's scream. In fact, I was just looking for the person who
did
scream, sir. I think it must have been in the thicket beyond, sir, and not here. Perhaps you will aid me in my search, since we are both on the same errand?”

Joe, who smelt mischief, would have given the world to refuse, but hardly knew how to do so, and, accordingly, took a step or two towards the other thicket, into which he and the Dwarf carefully looked, but could see no woman, principally because no woman was there. For you must know that the scream had really proceeded from the little man himself, who was none other than the celebrated Dwarf Gandleperry, who had come out to entrap the unfortunate Joe, and to deliver him to the Ogres. The Dwarfs' bargain with the Ogres was that they should have the head of every other Mortal whom they brought to the Ogres—for there is nothing Dwarfs like so much as brains, and they will go any distance, and play any trick, in order to secure this delicacy.

Of course, I say, they found no woman, and heard no more screams; but the Dwarf began to talk to Joe in such a pleasant and amusing manner, that he soon lost his first feeling of mistrust, and began to think that he had found an agreeable companion. Instead of walking straight back, however, the little man bore to the left, so that they soon left the Fairy Green behind them on the right. Joe asked what was the sound of falling water which he heard; to which his companion replied, that there was a spring which rose down there, but that the ground was so wet and soft about it, that it was best to go someway round. Joe ought to have known from this that something was wrong, since he had so recently crossed the place himself; but somehow his senses were lulled to rest, and he seemed to walk on in a kind of dream, listening to the Dwarf, and being only half awake to the reality of the scene. He was roughly awakened, however, before long; for, as they entered the thicker part of the wood, beyond the Fairy Green, two other Dwarfs suddenly sprang out of a neighbouring thicket, each armed with a thick stick, and fell upon Joe in a moment. His companion, too, ceasing from his pleasant conversation, joined in the attack, and shouted loudly at the same time—

“Well done, Juff! down with him, Jumper!” and then, as Joe recognised in one of the new-comers the ill-looking Dwarf from whom Puss-cat Mew had before delivered him, he became suddenly aware that he had fallen into the hands of three rascals who would certainly deliver him to the Ogres if he could not escape. Joe was a strong man, and a bold, and he fought bravely; but three to one is fearful odds. He knocked one of Juff's teeth down his throat, and caught Jumper a regular stinger on his red rose; but Gandleperry evaded his blows, and struck him such a tremendous crack over the head with a life-preserver, that he sank down senseless on the ground, whilst the other two Dwarfs rained blows upon him with their sticks till they felt pretty sure they had left no breath in his body. Then they all three stood a few yards off, and burst into a roar of savage laughter.