The House Without Windows

by Barbara Newhall Follett

  The three families were much disgusted with themselves for not catching Eepersip and the kitten; but they promised Mr Brunio that they would try again. There followed a week of rainy weather, during which they made no attempts, but laid plans. As soon as the weather cleared, they tried one of these plans; and Snowflake had a narrow escape.

  It was in the middle of the night. The families found Eepersip, with the two little animals, asleep on the meadow. They took the kitten from her arms. But as they did so, Eepersip herself woke up, screamed loudly and rushed after them. Then they turned and came after her; and Eepersip was bold enough and angry enough not to run until she had rescued Snowflake. She came right up to her parents and seized Snowflake from the arms of the horrified Mrs Eigleen. Then Eepersip ran – and fast, too!

  When she came to the edge of the woods she made straight for a great pine. This tree she had climbed about in often, and she knew its every limb. In pitch dark she could find all its branches, and sometimes she trusted to her memory rather recklessly. She was as sure of this tree as of the ground, even at night. She loved it – she called it her tree. A tree was, perhaps, not the easiest place of concealment, but Eepersip thought that in this way she would not have to run all over the meadow in the dark – and she was very tired after her usual all-day playing.

  There were no branches lower than seven feet up. Eepersip made one leap, caught hold of a branch and swung herself up on to it. From that branch she mounted higher and higher until she reached the very top. It swayed gloriously, even under her light weight, but it didn’t creak as if about to break. She sat up in the high crotch and looked at the people so far below, through a mass of black needles and a mighty thickness of strong limbs. It was a wonderful night. The sky was spangled with stars of vivid silver. Not a cloud was to be seen except on the western horizon, where a bank was piling up rapidly, silhouetted against the deep ultramarine of the sky, across which the Milky Way made a path of radiance. Eepersip, looking down among the powerful limbs, felt as if she were part of the familiar tree.

  Poor Chippy and Snowflake were tired and sleepy after what they had just been through. Eepersip murmured kind words to them, while she thought of all that she had been through herself. She was not in the least dizzy, but she was tired, and she knew that she must not go to sleep up there.

  Then she saw that Mr Eigleen had started to climb the great tree. He got about halfway up and then stopped. She remembered the place: it had been difficult for her, too. There was not a limb where he could put out a foot and step on it; the next one was at the level of his neck. The question was, how could he get on to this limb? He didn’t have the strength to pull himself up to it the way Eepersip had done. He tried for a long time, but his caution proved too much for him. At last, in despair, he descended; and the people went away, leaving Eepersip in peace.

  As soon as they were well out of sight and hearing, Eepersip came down in a series of leaps from limb to limb. At length she got to the bottom, where the last limb was seven feet from the ground. She braced herself as firmly as she could on this and then she jumped. It was a marvellous jump in the dark and she landed on the ground unhurt, though very tired and covered with bits of bark. ‘My, that was a dreary adventure!’ she said sleepily, as she crawled off to find a place to sleep.

  Eepersip saw no more of the Brunios or her parents and she decided that they had given up chasing her and Snowflake for the winter – a winter which she and her two friends spent undisturbed, playing with the leaves and shadows.

  It was spring – spring before the third summer that Eepersip was to spend wild – and the golden sun melted away the last patches of snow from off the bare rocks and from round the pool, where it had lodged between them. It was warm, although a wind was blowing – the delicious wind of spring. This marvellous spring air made her blood course quickly. She felt extremely happy and dancy. Her body seemed to her lighter than ever, in spite of its strength. Her spirit was so joyous that she could not express it in action; she had to let part of it out in song. But song, however light and happy, could not quite express Eepersip’s feeling. She danced and she sang and she leaped aloft for joy.

  As the season advanced, she crowned herself with sweet-smelling flowers, and the butterflies came and lit on them. She went up to the pool wearing her fluttering crown and there she saw the flowers that had come to bloom. There was iris purple and gold – huge blossoms which reminded Eepersip of the ocean as she had seen it, so far away, on the first day of her wanderings. In a soft bed of green moss she found a little pink-and-white flower that she didn’t know, bell-shaped and very fragrant. There were wild rosebuds there, too, and never had Eepersip seen so many butterflies as were on those roses. They bordered the tiny beach, mingled with the tenderly uncurling green ferns. The delicate red leaf buds on the maple trees were now developing into tiny emerald leaves. And there were ever so many other treasures of Nature there.

  Eepersip played little happy games with all the creatures of the field. One game she played with the crickets. A cricket would be hiding in a certain place, and when Eepersip danced by he would buzz out of the grass into her face; she would pretend to be startled and would run from the spot. She played another game with the grasshoppers. One would be hiding, and Eepersip would come dancing by with her eyes shut. Then the grasshopper would whirr out of the grass and alight on her hand. When she opened her eyes she would shake her hand and try to get rid of him, all in fun, of course. Then she played two lovely games with the happy butterflies. She would let a butterfly alight on her hand, to which she would then give a violent jerk, so that the butterfly was sent sailing into the air; then, without a motion of the wings, he would come sailing back to Eepersip’s hand. This they would do again and again. When she tired of this game, Eepersip would crown herself with the sweetest flowers she could find, and then flocks of butterflies would try to alight on her wreath as she danced. There were never enough flowers for all of them; some were always fluttering around Eepersip’s head, trying to find a nestling place and others were safely folded in the blossoms.

  One of the thrilling hours of Eepersip’s happy life that summer was when she lay in the meadow watching the sky and all the swallows circling. Snowflake and Chippy were frolicking gaily in the short, dry grass, chasing leaves. Now Chippy snuggled up to Eepersip. Snowflake kept on playing; she was crouched on her little white belly, playing with a dry brown leaf, and when it drifted beyond her reach she would spring after it. Eepersip watched her in a dreamy way. Now Snowflake cast the dead leaf away, having torn it to shreds, and played with other things. Sometimes she would rear herself up into the air; at other times she would run with little tripping steps over to Eepersip, as if something had frightened her; again, she would rush round and round Eepersip in a wide circle, and finally she would settle down to play with another dead leaf. It made Eepersip glad to hear the kitten’s little pattering feet on the grass; she knew how madly Snowflake was frolicking, but she did not share in the play – instead, with a dreamy happiness, she watched the sky.

  Another day in the summer was even happier. It was in July, and Eepersip was lying in a part of the meadow where there weren’t many deer so that the grass was long, soft and green instead of stiff and short. Snowflake and Chippy were frolicking around in it, but again Eepersip was not thinking of them. She was thinking of the swallows that flew over her, and the way the sun shone on their breasts, making them glitter like silver. The crickets were chirping and the grasshoppers were accompanying them, and they were both very happy. The frogs croaked bass songs from the pool – the cool, green frogs! The birds were singing merrily and the butterflies passed over Eepersip’s head in flocks – butterflies of white and purple and blue and yellow, little ones of copper green and big ones of orange and red. Some of them flew with short, quick flirts of the wings, others with long strokes which swept them through the air. The gauzy dragonflies, too, flew over her. Everything thrilled Eepersip’s happy, tireless eyes.

  Th
e bees hummed their way low over the long green grass, and Chippy and Snowflake leaped high in the air when they passed. Eepersip had taught the two little animals not to catch the creatures of the field, and before long all the birds loved Snowflake – something that few kittens have yet attained. But Snowflake and Chippy liked to pretend to catch the bees, and sometimes they went so far as to hold them on the ground with their paws, very gently, not hurting them at all. Snowflake and Chippy lay in the grass, reaching and touching anything that took their fancy. When the wind blew they would leap up at the clover blossoms that nodded. They played hide-and-seek, leaping over the grasses and chasing each other in and out of their hiding places. The long grass offered a splendid place of concealment. Chippy would scurry behind a big sheltering tuft, seeming to Snowflake to have vanished in mid-air. Snowflake would poke about and run in such bewildering circles that it tired them looking at each other. Soon they would get so mixed up that they wouldn’t know which of them was supposed to be hiding, and it often happened that they were both hiding at the same time, or both searching.

  This was for Eepersip the happiest of that summer’s hours in the field. Something fresh and fragrant in the air made breathing a delight; it almost lifted her off the ground, and she let forth a glorious burst of song.

  It was a cold, frisky day in October, and Eepersip, even in her warm coat, had to keep moving. Snowflake and Chippy were frolicking and playing games with each other. Eepersip had taught them how to shake hands and this they were practising. A leaf had settled on Snowflake’s head like a brown crown and she was trying vigorously to get it off. But no, the leaf was curled firmly around her small, dainty ears. She got wilder and wilder in her amusing efforts. She dashed round and round. She reached after it with her forepaws. All in vain! She could not get rid of that persistent leaf. But there! a gust of cold wind sent it flying from her head, to be instantly lost in a whirl of others which the wind had started up. Snowflake dashed among them madly, and played with them, trying to catch them all at the same time. But at last she stopped her foolish efforts and came quietly back to rest.

  In November the first snow of the winter fell. The flakes came thick and fast, like white and silver butterflies dancing, flying. Eepersip took them in her hands and noticed how each flake had its own shape, which was never found again. During that day in October Snowflake had worn a brown crown of a dead leaf, but now she wore a white one. The snow didn’t show much on the white fur of the kitten, but Chippy’s autumn brown was soon covered with a mossy blanket of it. The flakes whirled down thicker and faster than ever and Chippy tried to jump at them all. The playmates could hide in the snow now, for if they got far enough apart they couldn’t see each other. They tried to capture the snowflakes, but they found that this made their paws even wetter.

  In spite of all this merriment, Eepersip had a slightly sad feeling in her heart. The night before, she had seen the sea; and it had looked so glorious that she felt as if – as if she would like to go to it. She loved the meadow so much that this would be almost impossible for her. Yet she knew that in spite of her love for the meadow, her longing for the sea would grow, and that one day she must leave her present home. All this made her rather sad. But she tried to be happy – to share the joy of her two little friends, and the joy of having the little fairy things come whirling down upon her. She played all day in the meadow with her friends, and when the evening fell they went back to the burrow and slept in peace till morning.

  In this way the winter passed. Every evening at sunset Eepersip would go over to the edge of the meadow and gaze long upon the sea, with the brilliant sunset colours reflected in it. And each time she looked it seemed so beautiful, so beautiful! And each time she tried to go to it, it seemed as if the ground of the meadow was a great magnet to her feet.

  The spring came, and with it the flowers and leaves.

  One night Eepersip woke up to find the full moon as if hanging in the sky. A few faint stars could be seen. She tried to go to sleep, but could not. At last she got up from her bed of moss. The dew lay thick on the grass, which slushed deliciously against her bare feet. All entranced with the beauty of the night, she ran lightly over to the spot where she often had a view of the sea. And she beheld it with the full moon reflected in it – a globe of soft silver, shimmering and quivering in the unstill waters. This time it was too much for Eepersip. She could stand it no longer – her heart gave way. She decided that the next morning she would satisfy her longing.

  And so, just after dawn, she left her beautiful home in the field and journeyed towards the ocean. She went to the edge of the meadow with a herd of deer daintily tripping after her. She turned and cried: ‘Goodbye, O deer! for probably I shall never see you again.’ She kissed the ground of the meadow and she wept to think that she was leaving it; but she knew that her love for the sea had become greater than her love for the meadow. And then she went away – sadly, yet happy at the prospect of a new and beautiful life by the foaming, churning rocks and the white-capped waves.

  II

  * * *

  THE SEA

  Your flashing waves hold out their arms to me –.

  I entangle myself in their silver hair,

  And ride with them to catch the wind.

  The sun trails bright jewels in the water,

  And laughs because I cannot touch them.

  As Eepersip journeyed on, the meadow grew dimmer in her mind, and the memory of how the sea had looked grew brighter. She couldn’t see it now, for she was in a valley, but she knew that she was going in the right direction. The spring breeze was blowing; it was not cold, and the breeze stirred the air gently, so that it wasn’t hot. Occasional whiffs from the meadow came to Eepersip with that breeze, but when she had gone about two miles this fragrance ceased.

  That afternoon she came into a great forest where strange, mysterious shadows passed back and forth in a frightening way. She hurried on as fast as she could, but she had to spend a night in it – one alarming, terrible night. The next day she came out, torn and bedraggled with fighting her way through the dense thickets. Several times she had to cross rivers – some of them without a bridge, though luckily none of these was over her depth. Another day had passed. Nightfall found her wearily climbing a very high hill. The reflection of the moon showed her where the ocean was. It seemed hardly any nearer than before!

  The third morning she descended into a rich and fertile valley. A small brook was winding down it, and where the weeping willows dipped into the current it bubbled and sang. This valley was the broadest that Eepersip had yet gone through. But after a long time she came out of it against a high, precipitous cliff. Up the side of this she climbed, digging her toes into the cracks between the rocks. At last she got to the top; and a long, weary climb it had been. She was now on a grassy hill where bloomed daisies shining like stars and little buttercups of gold. There were butterflies, too, with brilliant wings, and they hovered and fluttered over the flowers. And lo! there was the ocean, nearer now, with the sun shining on it; and Eepersip could see the surf rolling and foaming. Shrill cries pierced the air – the cries of birds, of seagulls swooping inland in wide circles. And as she went on through the waving grass she could smell the delicious salt air of the sea.

  But, alas, she met with a hindrance. Between her and the coast there was a valley extending for miles, and poor Eepersip would have to clamber down a precipitous cliff, through the valley and up another cliff. Down she went, rather unwillingly, but knowing that she would get there sometime. At last she came to the bottom. It wasn’t so bad down there – there was a lovely lakelet at which she refreshed herself with a drink; it was grassy, and there were flowers. But it was stiflingly hot. There was a patch of pine woods here and there, but it was hot even in the shade of the great trees.

  She stumbled on in the almost blinding heat, clambering up the other great precipice – the wall of the valley. From the top she looked down and, seeing again that ponderous cliff, she wondered ho
w she could ever have got up it. Then she lay down on the grass and in a moment was asleep.

  When she awoke, the strong wind was blowing again. It made her almost fly through the cold, salty air. Before her was the long-sought ocean, with the waves rolling and the gulls swooping, diving and screaming. She flew; her feet could not stay still. She was tired no longer – she didn’t feel the smallest effects of her wearisome journey.

  Suddenly she heard a sound – the magical sound of the waves as they crashed on the rocks. In they would come, pounding, roaring, breaking upon the shore. The foam and spume would fly back and leap up into the air. Everything sounded strange – stranger than anything Eepersip had ever heard. No words can describe what she imagined. She never had had such a lot of emotions in her head at the same time. She tried to describe them to herself, but soon gave it up as useless. She thought: ‘Here I am; I see it; you don’t need to tell me about it!’ And then she realized that she was alone, knowing in her own mind what it was like, yet unable to stop wishing that she could describe the hollow, ringing sound. Was she becoming homesick? No! it was sheer delight.

  For a moment she paused. Then she bounded through the yellow sand and, ever going faster and faster, she came to the edge of her sea. Her longing had been fulfilled.

  This beach was almost overhung at one end by a great shelf of rock. The sand was glistening with shells of all colours and bordered with seaweeds washed up. Tiny sandpipers’ tracks ran all over it. Eepersip stayed there a long time, gazing into the waves, gazing at everything.