The Pearl Story Book Part 6

WINTER WOODS

THE FIRST SNOW-FALL

The snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white.

Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl.

James Russell Lowell.

THE VOICE OF THE PINE TREES

(j.a.panese Legend)

"And all the while The voice of the breeze As it blows through the firs That grow old together Will yield us delight."

In ancient days there lived a fisherman and his wife, and little daughter Matsue. There was nothing that Matsue loved to do more than to sit under the great pine tree. She was particularly fond of the pine needles that never seemed tired of falling to the ground. With these she fas.h.i.+oned a beautiful dress and sash, saying, "I will not wear these pine clothes until my wedding day."

One day while Matsue was sitting under the pine tree, she sang the following song:

"No one so callous but he heaves a sigh When o'er his head the withered cherry flowers Come fluttering down. Who knows?--the spring's soft showers May be but tears shed by the sorrowing sky."

While thus she sang Teogo stood on the steep sh.o.r.e of Sumiyos.h.i.+ watching the flight of a heron. Up, up, it went into the blue sky, and Teogo saw it fly over the village where the fishfolk and their daughter lived.

Now Teogo was a youth who dearly loved adventure and he thought it would be very delightful to swim across the sea and discover the land over which the heron had flown. So one morning he dived into the sea and swam so hard and so long that the poor fellow found the waves spinning and dancing and saw the great sky bend down and try to touch him. Then he lay unconscious on the water; but the waves were kind to him after all, for they pressed him on and on till he was washed up at the very place where Matsue sat under the pine tree.

Matsue carefully dragged Teogo underneath its sheltering branches, and then set him down upon a couch of pine needles, where he soon regained consciousness and warmly thanked Matsue for her kindness.

Teogo did not go back to his own country, for, after a few happy months had gone by, he married Matsue and on her wedding morn she wore her dress and sash of pine needles.

When Matsue's parents died her loss only seemed to make her love for Teogo the more. The older they grew the more they loved each other.

Every night when the moon shone, they went hand in hand to the pine tree and with their little rake they made a couch for the morrow.

One night the great silver face of the moon peered through the branches of the pine tree and looked in vain for the two sitting together on a couch of pine needles. Their little rakes lay side by side and still the moon waited for the slow steps of these pine tree lovers. But that night they did not come. They had gone home to an everlasting place on the River of Souls.

They had loved so well and so splendidly, in old age as well as in youth, that their souls were allowed to come back again and wander round the pine tree that had listened to their love for so many years.

When the moon is full they whisper and laugh and sing and draw the pine needles together, while the sea sings softly upon the sh.o.r.e:

"The dawn is near And the h.o.a.r-frost falls On the fir tree twigs; But its leaves dark green Suffer no change.

Morning and evening Beneath its shade The leaves are swept away, Yet they never fail.

True it is That these fir trees Shed not all their leaves; Their verdure remains fresh For ages long, As the Masaka's trailing vine; Even amongst evergreen trees-- The emblem of unchangeableness-- Exalted is their fame As a symbol to the end of time.

The fame of the fir trees that Have grown old together."

THE PINE TREE MAIDEN

(Indian Legend)

In an Indian village which stood near the Big Sea Water lived a beautiful little girl whose name was Leelinau. Her chief delight was to wander among the pine trees of a sacred grove which bordered the great waters. Here she pa.s.sed many hours watching the sunlight dance on the stems of the tall trees and listening to the soft music of the wind as it came up from the sea and played in the forest.

The child's desire to spend so much of her time alone in the grove made her little companions regard her with awe, and they sometimes whispered together about the meaning of her strange journeys to the deep woods.

"Leelinau goes to the forest to play with the Puckwudjinies. She dances with the fairy folk and talks to them in their own language,"

said the Indian children when they saw the little girl's figure hurrying toward the grove of pine trees.

Leelinau's parents took little notice of her strange attraction for the lonely forest. They thought it was a childish fancy which would vanish in a few years. But the little girl grew into a beautiful slender maiden and still she visited her retreat with increasing delight.

"When Leelinau goes to the forest the air is filled with the sweetest perfume and the trees nod their feathery plumes in welcome to her,"

whispered the youths and maidens of the village. "Some say she calls the pine trees by name and they answer her in a strange language which she understands."

One day it happened that an Indian hunter, who was a mighty chief, pa.s.sed through the sacred grove. There, leaning against her favourite tree, a stately pine, he saw Leelinau, a dark-haired maiden marvellously beautiful. In a few days the chief sought her parents and laid before them rich gifts, saying that he wished to make the forest maiden his bride.

To the surprise of all the people in the village Leelinau took no joy in her approaching marriage to the great chief. To be sure, she made no complaint, for she was an obedient daughter. But each day, when she returned from her accustomed journey to the forest, she was sad and thoughtful. Sometimes she stood before her father's tepee and looked with wistful eyes toward her beloved grove.

At last the day arrived on which the great chief would claim her for his bride. The forest maiden dressed herself in her beautiful wedding robe and took her usual walk into the forest. Her parents were not surprised that she should wish to take a farewell look at the grove where she had spent so many happy hours, and which she was about to leave, for the great chief lived many miles away.

When she reached the forest she hastened to her beautiful pine tree.

Clinging to the trunk she wept bitterly and whispered the story of her coming marriage to a war chief from whom her heart shrank in fear.

When she had finished there was a soft rustling in the branches overhead and a voice said: "Leelinau! Leelinau! thou art my beloved!

Wilt thou stay in the forest and be my bride?"

And she answered, "I will never leave my pine tree lover."

The sun stood high above the sacred grove and Leelinau had not returned to her father's lodge. Friends were sent to bring her to the village but they came back with the report that the maiden was not in the forest. The great chief and his warriors searched far and wide for the lost maiden. She had disappeared so completely that the keenest-eyed Indians could discover no trace of her. The chief departed without his bride and for a year no tidings of Leelinau came to the village.

It happened one calm evening when the sun was sinking into the Big Sea Water, that an Indian youth in a birch bark canoe was swiftly skimming along toward the sh.o.r.e bordered by the sacred grove. There, standing near the deep forest, was a familiar figure. It was Leelinau, the lost maiden. In his surprise and joy the youth shouted to her and she waved her hand to him in recognition. Then he noticed that she was not alone. By her side stood a handsome brave with a green plume standing high on his head. With all his might the young Indian quickened the speed of his canoe and in a few moments he sprang ash.o.r.e. But where were Leelinau and the young brave! They had disappeared and not a trace of them was to be found on the lonely sh.o.r.e or in the forest.

The youth returned to the village and told his story. Reverently the people bowed their heads and whispered, "Leelinau will never come back to us. She is the bride of her favourite pine tree."

THE HOLLY

Janet Harvey Kelman