5
Two-Legs sat and gazed and thought. He looked at the ruined land, at the sun, which shone as mildly as though nothing had happened, at Steam, who floated quietly over the wilderness. There was not a house left standing, not a tree; and not a bird was singing.
Once, he turned round and looked after his kinsmen. He saw them far away on the horizon, but still it did not occur to him to follow them. Then he said to Steam:
“Who are you? Tell me something about yourself.”
“I am like this at present,” said Steam. “You see me now and you saw me a little while ago. Look out across the sea and you shall see me there, too.”
“I don’t see you there,” said Two-Legs.
‘CATCH ME! USE ME!’
“That’s because you don’t know,” said Steam. “As a matter of fact I am water, to start with.”
“Tell me about it,” said Two-Legs.
“It’s easily told,” said Steam. “You see, I am the sea water, which soaks through the ground into the mountain yonder. I ooze in through a thousand underground passages. But inside the mountain there is a tremendous fire, which smoulders everlastingly and never goes out. Now, when the water rises above the fire, it turns to steam; and the steam is collected in great cavities down the mountain, so long as there is room for it. At last, there is so much of it that it can’t exist there. Then the mountain bursts. Rocks and stones ... the whole mountain-lake up there, which is boiling because of the fire in the ground ... mud and sludge, boiling water and scalding steam come rushing out over the land, as you have just seen. I burst everything, when I am tortured beyond endurance. There is not a wall that can imprison me, not a door which I cannot open ... do you understand?”
Two-Legs nodded.
“You have seen the column of smoke that rises from the mountain every day,” said Steam. “There is always a little opening, you know, an air-hole through which some of me can escape. But at last it is no longer big enough and then I burst the whole concern. Now learn from what has happened to you to-day that you must never build your abode where you see a smoking mountain, for you can never be safe there.”
“It’s not enough for me to be safe,” said Two-Legs. “I don’t want to avoid you. I want to rule you. You are the strongest force I know in the world. You must be my servant, like the horse and the ox and the wind.”
“Catch me and use me, if you can!” said Steam.
“Well,” said Two-Legs, “I will try. But first tell me what becomes of you when you float through the air, as you are doing now.”
“Then I turn cold,” said Steam. “And, when I have turned cold, I become water ... rain ... mist ... whatever you please.”
“And then you fall into the sea,” said Two-Legs. “And then you soak into the mountain, where the fire is, and become steam again; and so on and so on, for ever and ever.”
“That’s it,” said Steam.
Then he floated on across the wilderness and disappeared out at sea. Two-Legs gazed after him and then stared at the mountain again, which was smoking peacefully, as it had done before.
He sat the whole night and pondered. Then he rose, called the dog and went after the others.