The Tale
Of all things, nothing pleased Rairu more than to watch the ways of the living things of the forest, to bend over a flower and drink in its beauty, to lie by the side of a leaf-hidden pool and follow some shaft of sunshine as it shot to the depth, or to stand breathless when a wild bird broke into song. His father, very bitter against what he deemed idleness, often said harsh things, telling Rairu that he would do well to attend to matters more enduring. Still, Rairu was what he was. Before the sunlight came over the world he would seek the forest deeps and there, hidden in green thickets, would lose himself in the music of the birds. And as time passed and Rairu grew into young manhood another joy came to him, and the glory of the star-sprinkled sky filled him with wonder. Night after night he would wait in a favourite place by a little cascade, a place bare of trees, eagerly impatient for the soft light of the first star in the violet sky.
Watching thus Rairu found a thought rise in his mind, a thought that the world would be well only when that order was among men which was in the skies. More, it seemed to him that of all living creatures that walked the earth man was the most destructive, the most wasteful, and the most untrustful. Then one night as he lay at the foot of a palm tree, his heart was full of gladness because of the song of a night-bird, and it came to him somehow to believe that the stars sang to the bird as the bird sang to the stars, so he looked up to find, if possible, which star heard that bird, and he saw one that hung low, one far more beautiful than her fellows. Thereafter, when the sky grew soft and dark, his eyes sought the Silver One and he waited until the night-bird sang. Like jewels, like living sparks of sound, the music went up, and like a maiden the Silver One listened. When the star dropped in the west and the song-bird ceased, then Rairu was sad and alone, alone as one in a seagirt land whom none may visit.
One day, it was a day of cloud-flecked sky and humming life, Rairu met an old man, thin-haired and bearded, and the stranger hailed him, calling him by name. After some talk, much of which seemed riddlesome to the lad, the old man asked him what of all things, had he his wish, would he choose.
After thinking awhile, Rairu said:
“If the Silver One would come from her place in the sky and go with me so that I might admire her beauty both day and night, I would be the happiest man on earth.”
Hearing that, the old man bade Rairu go to sleep that night on a high hill which was not far away. “And,” said he, “if it be that you desire the Silver One for her beauty alone and not that others may envy you in your possession, then it may be that your wish shall be granted.” No more he said, but walked away, singing to himself softly as he went.
All that day Rairu spent in the forest, eager for the night and the stars, and in the noonday heat sat in the shade of the trees with eyes fast closed, trying to make a song in which he might tell the world of the Silver One and her great beauty, for it vexed him that so few looked to her; but no words came to him to satisfy. Only this, which he thought but a poor thing:
When men sorrow and rage,
When the hearts of men grieve,
When arrows of sharp words wound,
When there is none to pity pain,
In the order of heaven there is sweet delight.
In the night hushed and still,
When is neither weeping nor laughter,
In the night-time between two empty days,
The Silver One is riding in the sky
Singing hand in hand with her sister stars,
Singing, because the life of men is an empty dream.
When darkness was about to spread he went up the rocky path to the hilltop, as the old man had bidden him, and lay there looking at the opal fires in the western sky, watching the change to sea-green and gold, from orange to pink, and waiting, waiting until the stars should come forth. Now and then he sang the lines of the song he had made, the last lines:
In the night-time between two empty days,
The Silver One riding in the sky
Singing hand in hand with her sister stars,
Singing, because the life of men is an empty dream.
When at last the stars pricked the dark, great was his grief to find that the Silver One was not among them. He searched well, thinking that she hid perhaps behind a leaf, but soon he knew that her sisters went their way alone. Long and long he looked, and at last, wearied and sad at heart, fell asleep, weeping that he had lost the thing to him most dear.
As he slept he dreamed that the earth was bathed in a great white light, a light that was both light and music, at which he became wonderfully happy. He dreamed that he was lifted up as on a cloud, lifted up high into the heavens and could see, far below him, countless sweetly turning spheres of light; and across great dark spaces and gulfs of blackness were other and new stars; and from the edge of nothingness to the edge of nothingness all was a-tune. Still, for all that, his heart was heavy, because in all that stardust there was no Silver One. What was most strange was this: though his heart was heavy, yet a joy was in him, a sad joy for that he felt himself as a tight-stretched golden string that quivered in tune with the music all about. So he awoke and saw standing by his side a maiden clothed in white, whose eyes looked into his heart with deep love.
“Arise, Rairu,” said she, “for I have come to cheer and to comfort. I am the Silver One and you may keep me with you.” So saying she became small, small but none the less beautiful, so small indeed that she might have stood in the palm of Rairu’s hand.
Then Rairu was the happiest of mortals. He cast about him for a casket in which to keep his treasure, but finding none worthy, bethought him of his gourd, a thing which he had carved and adorned with much excellent skill. Having cleaned it well, so well that not a grain of dust was in it, he set it on the ground on its side in a clean place and the Silver One stepped into it, resting lightly on a bed of light-green moss. All that day Rairu went about, now and then taking the cover from the gourd to look within and gaze with delight at the eyes of the Silver One looking up at him. Whenever he did that, from the gourd there came a sound of melting music, so entrancing a sound that Rairu felt himself to be a part of all things—a part of the very heavens and the stars and the sun and the moon. Even of the forest with its animals and birds, its trees and its pools, he was a part.
Day and night strange things the Silver One told Rairu, and of those things that which he found most sad was her telling that when the day came on which he took his eyes from her and thought of other things on which she would not look, things which hid from her in dark places and under roofs, then there would be a dividing and she would become to him but as an aching memory. At that Rairu, after pondering awhile, always laughed, telling her that no sword could sever the thread that bound them.
There came a day when the Silver One told Rairu that it would be well if they visited the sky-world for a season, and to do that Rairu was quite willing. So at her bidding Rairu sat among the leaves of a palm tree and the Silver One crept out of the gourd and took her place by his side. With a little stick she touched the tree, and at that it grew rapidly, grew until it carried them into a place all bare and treeless, without birds or flowers. The Silver One told Rairu to wait a while and she would return. She sped away and Rairu kept her in his sight, for her light did not dim.
Soon, to his astonishment he saw, close at hand, a beautiful city with shining towers and moving lights of many colours, and about it went a joyful procession of young men and maidens, dancing and singing and playing instruments. Many beckoned to him to follow them, which he did. Soon he came to a great hall, and as he entered a great burst of music sounded, whereupon all there fell to dancing, whirling wildly. Wilder and more wild grew the music; it became a welter of sound, a boiling flood of strange noise that set his brain on fire. From corners leaped evil and ugly things, bats, swine, evil-eyed carrion-birds, blunt-tailed and mud-coloured serpents and great white toads, soft and clammy. In the wild dance they joined and the din grew louder, so that it seemed to Rairu that his ears must crack. But more fearful things there were, so that Rairu fled to the place where he had stood when the Silver One left him.
She was there waiting for him, but her eyes, though still full of love, were filled with sad tears. Very gently she chided him for his disobedience, and Rairu hung his head in sorrow and shame, knowing that he must leave the Silver One for a season. It needed no words to tell that the thread was broken. Hand clasped hand then, the more passionately because they knew that there would be a parting.
“Go then, Rairu,” said she. “But mind well that a little toil, a little striving, and thou shalt find me again. In the darkness lean on me, the more because thou knowest thyself to be weak. Under the shadow of death, dear Rairu, a fainting love is revived.”
So Rairu returned to earth, but great was his desire to find again that which he had lost. And he told his fellow-men of all that he had seen, saying that he must again find his star. Soon, with searching, he found his Silver One and the clear light led him, clothing all that he said and did with beauty.
