The servant Ogres did not seem to hear the voice, at least they paid no attention to it; but the perfume was hateful to their blood-spoiled and brutalized senses.
“Ugh! what a horrible smell!” they each exclaimed; and immediately fell down in a fainting-fit. At the same moment Joe saw the Tortoiseshell Cat standing at the end of the passage, and beckoning to him, and you may well believe that he lost no time in hurrying up to her. But he stopped when he came close, for he remembered his poor fellow-captive, and he could not bear the thoughts of leaving her to perish.
“Oh, Puss-cat Mew,” said he, “pray save that girl too!”
The Cat drew herself up with an angry kind of purr, and made no movement; upon which Joe, being a brave fellow, and too chivalrous to neglect a lady in distress, declared that he must go back and bring the poor creature out. The Cat set up her back and looked cross, but the same low voice came floating over the yard from the free forest—
“Fear not for the maiden left,
Though of human aid bereft;
Yet she Ogres need not dread,
Saints and angels guard her head;
Spirits of the children taught,
And to know religion brought,
To her rescue soon will fly,
Nought her danger here to die.”
This somewhat reassured Joe, but that which did so even more was to see the School-teacher rise from the place where the fainting Giants had dropped her, and follow him into the yard. A door stood open from the yard into the forest, through which the three passed, and the Teacher turned down a path to the left, which she said she somehow felt quite certain would lead her right. The Cat said not a word, but moved quietly along till the Teacher was gone, when she came up to Joe, and rubbed herself against his legs, seeming almost to smile as she looked up into his face.
“O you little darling!” he exclaimed; “you dear, good, charming little Puss-cat Mew! there never was, and never will be, such another Cat in the world as you. How shall I ever thank you enough for getting me out of that horrible place!”
Still the Cat spoke not, probably because cats don’t generally speak, except under peculiar circumstances; but then Joe thought that his circumstances were rather peculiar, and expected this Cat might perhaps make an exception in his favour. But she kept on, still without speaking, till they had gone for some distance; then, without a word, good, bad, or indifferent, she disappeared behind a large old oak-tree, near which they were passing.
Joe was terribly puzzled, for he didn’t know which way to go, or what to do; and, moreover, he began to feel rather hungry, which was not surprising, as it was now getting late, and he had tasted nothing since that bread and cheese which he had just finished before his capture by the Ogre. He searched his pockets over and over again, but could only find a few crumbs, which went but a very little way towards satisfying his hunger; and he therefore sat down under the old oak, and began to consider what was the best thing to do next. He had not sat there long, however, before a loud shout at no very great distance convinced him that his flight had been discovered, and that the Ogres were in pursuit. However, he felt no alarm this time, being quite sure that his friends would not desert him. Nor indeed did they do so, for on a second roar being heard, evidently nearer than the first, a noise inside the tree immediately followed, and a passage opened, apparently of itself, in the tree, through which Joe instantly entered. What was his surprise and joy to find within the large hollow space inside the tree a small table with a white cloth upon it, which displayed a still further attraction in the shape of a fine beefsteak, with rich yellow fat and steaming gravy, together with a foaming pot of porter by its side. At the same time came the old, friendly voice—
“Son of Mortal, do not fear,
Fairies will no harm allow;
Eat thy steak and drink thy beer,
Ogres shall not hurt thee now.”
Joe needed no second invitation, but, sitting down at once, made as good a dinner as he had ever made in his life. Whilst he was eating, he heard the Ogres trampling through the wood, and peeping out through a hole in the oak, saw no less than seven of these monsters passing by, and heard them talking about his escape, and abusing the Fairies as the cause. Presently, however, their voices died away, and all sounds in the forest ceased. The inside of the oak was large, and, looking round, Joe perceived a comfortable bed made up in a corner.
“Well,” said he, “this is the very thing for me!” and without more ado he tumbled into it, and was fast asleep in a very few moments.
How long he slept I cannot say, but it was late in the evening when he laid down, and when he opened his eyes it was broad daylight. He jumped up, and rubbed his eyes two or three times before he could remember where he was, but after a while he began to recollect all that had happened, and to think that it was high time to take some steps to escape from the neighbourhood of such unpleasant people as the Ogres, from whom he had taken refuge in his present curious quarters. Accordingly, he got up, and was charmed to see that a bath stood near him, ready filled with water, of which he speedily availed himself, and, after a good wash, found himself fresh enough to be quite ready to start upon another day’s adventures.
The first thought that occurred to him was how to get out of the oak. This, however, did not trouble him long, for scarcely had he laid his hand against the inside of the tree, when a door flew open for him of its own accord, and he passed out into the forest. All was quiet, and the morning sun lit up the woodland scenery with its bright rays; the birds were singing, and everything appeared as beautiful and joyous as if there were no such beings as Ogres in the world. Uncertain whether to turn to the right or the left, he got rid of the difficulty by going straight on, and, as he did so, began to wonder whether he should now be allowed to leave the forest, or be still as unable to do so as he was the day before.
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 balanc
e, 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 forge
t 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.
Tales Before Tolkien Page 8