CHAPTER VII
Knops now led Leo through so many places full of machines and contrivances which the water-power kept active that he was
glad when they went up a long inclined plane, and came out into a wide gallery lined with mother-of-pearl, and paved with exquisite sea-shells.
Here was a luxurious couch of beautiful feathers, the plumage of birds he had never beheld, and he was not sorry to see Paz bringing out another dozen of tarts for his refreshment. As he ate them, he asked of Knops, who was peeling a lime, "Have you no women and children among your elves?"
"Oh yes," said Knops, smiling; "but they are not to be found near our workshops."
"Where, then, do they live?"
Knops put on an air of mystery as he replied: "I am not permitted to reveal everything concerning us, dear Leo. Our private life is of no public interest; but I may tell you that our children are bred entirely in the open air. Many an empty bird's nest is used as an elf cradle, for so highly do we esteem pure air, sunshine, and exposure as a means of making our children hardy, that we even accustom them to danger, and let them, like the birds, face the fury of the weather."
"And do they all work as you do?"
"They do, not at the same employments, nor is all our labor done by hand, as you might suppose. The songs which you hear are not all sung by birds or insects, the crying child has often a pretty tale whispered in his ear to soothe his grief or passion, and your garden roses are witness to many a worm in the bud choked by the hand of an elf. But we have many tribes, and the habits of each are different. I do not conceal that much trouble is made by some of them. But look at the Indians of North America and the Afghans of Asia."
Leo was yawning again fearfully, when a little "Turn, turn, turn," came to his ears, and as Knops ceased speaking a band of elves, habited as troubadours in blue and silver, with long white plumes in their velvet caps, climbed over the balustrade and began to play on zithers.
The music was a gentle tinkle, not unlike a rippling brook, and appeared to be in honor of Master Knops, who listened with pleased attention, and dismissed them politely.
Then came a message for Knops. A council was awaiting his presence; so, leaving Leo to Paz, with promise of a speedy return, he departed.
"How do you get about so fast?" asked Leo. Paz took from his pocket a tiny pipe, curiously carved from a nut; then he opened a small ivory box, showing Leo a wad of something which looked like raw cotton sprinkled with black seeds.
"One whiff of this, as it burns in my pipe, and I can wish myself where I please."
"Let me have a try," said Leo, taking up the pipe.
Paz smiled. "It would have no more effect upon you than so much tobacco—not as much, probably, for tobacco makes you deathly sick, does it not?"
"Yes," said Leo, listlessly, disappointed that he could not go to the ends of the earth by magic.
Paz noticed the disappointment, and said, by way of diversion, "Where do you like best to be?"
"At home I like the kitchen," said Leo, with a little shrug.
"Good! Come, then, to one of ours: we can be back by the time Master Knops returns." So saying, he started off, and Leo followed.
Paz trotted down a winding staircase that
made Leo feel as if he were a corkscrew, and in a little while ushered him into a place where jets of gas gave a garden-like effect, sprouting as they did from solid rock in the form of tulips and tiger-lilies, but over each was a wire netting, and from the netting were suspended shining little copper kettles and pans of all sorts and shapes.
Busily bending over these was a regiment of cooks, but instead of paper caps on their heads, each wore a white bonnet of ludicrous form, which they could tip over so as to shield their faces from the heat. It gave them a top-heavy appearance which was extremely funny.
In the centre of the kitchen was a long table, before which were seated a number of elves testing each compound to see if it were properly prepared, and examining the cooked dishes as they were brought in that all should be served rightly.
"I had an idea," said Leo, "that elves and fairies lived on rose leaves and honey, and that you never had to have things cooked."
"The truth is," answered Paz, "we do both; it all depends on what are our employments, whether we are living in the wild wood or down
in these caverns. I would ask nothing better than to dine off honeysuckle and a bird's egg, or fill my pockets with gooseberries; but I must adapt myself to circumstances, and while toiling here have to share the more solid food provided for us." As he said this he handed Leo a pudding of about three inches in the round, iced on the top.
Leo swallowed it down with such zest that Paz asked him to dispense with ceremony, and help himself to anything he saw. The tasting-table was full of puffs and tarts, and in a twinkling Leo had eaten two or three dozen of them. They were really so light and frothy that they were hardly equal to an ounce of lollypops such as an ordinary child could devour, but Paz cautioned him, telling him that the sweet was so concentrated he might have a headache.
While he was doing this, Leo watched with interest the bringing in of some squirrels and rabbits, skinned and ready to be roasted. It took six elves to bear the weight of an ordinary meat dish on which these were; then they trussed and skewered them, and put them in small ovens.
"How do you kill your game?" asked Leo.
"We trap everything, and then have a mode of killing the creatures which is entirely painless."
By this time Knops would have returned, so Paz hurried Leo off, not, however, without first filling his pockets with goodies. Up they clambered, until it seemed as if they might reach the stars by going a little farther, and now Leo was really so tired that when he sank down on the feathery couch in the sea-shell corridor he was asleep before he could explain to Knops the cause of his absence.
He must have slept a very long while—a time quite equal to an ordinary night, if not longer—for when he awoke he was thoroughly rested and refreshed, and ready for any exertion he might be called upon to make; but he found himself entirely alone.
At first this did not affect him, for he supposed his elfin friends had taken the opportunity to rest themselves, but after minutes lengthened into hours he began to be uneasy. What should he do if they never came back? How would he ever find his way out of these caverns? The thought was frightful, and to relieve his fears he began to call. His calls became shouts,
yells, and yet no answer came; nothing but echoes responded.