VII
No sooner had the bell stopped ringing than the Votaresses recovered their strength. They took courage and crept out of their hidie-holes. When they got out, lo! the sun was shining on the Mountain, and there is nothing in the world the wicked Fairies fear more than the sunlight. And as they could not wrap the whole Mountain in mist all in a hurry, each one quickly rolled herself up in a bit of fog, and off they flew to the Pit to make sure that Primrose was drowned.
But when they got there and looked into the Pit, the Pit was empty; Primrose was gone!
The Fairies cried aloud with vexation, and looked all over the Mountain to see whether the water had not dashed him against a stone. But as the Votaresses looked, why, this is what they saw: Primrose going blithely on his way; the sun was drying his little shirt for him on his back, and he was crooning away to himself as little children will.
“That child will escape us at this rate,” sobbed one of the Votaresses. “The child is stronger than we are. Hadn’t we better ask the Fiery Dragon to help us?”
“Don’t disgrace yourselves, my sisters,” said another Votaress. “Surely we can get the better of a feeble infant by ourselves.”
So said the Fairy, but she did not know that Primrose in his simplicity was stronger than all the evil and all the cunning in Mount Kitesh.
“We will send the She-bear to kill the child for us,” suggested a Votaress. “Dumb animals do not fear the Cross.” And she flew off at once to the bears’ den.
There lay the She-bear, a-playing with her cub.
“Run along, Bruineen, down that path. There is a child coming up the path. Wait for him and kill him, Bruineen dear,” said the Votaress.
“I can’t leave my cub,” answered Bruineen.
“I’ll amuse him for you,” said the Votaress, and straightway began to play with the little bear.
Bruineen went away down the path, and there was Primrose already in sight.
The great She-bear rose up on her hind-legs, stretched out her front paws, and so went forwards towards Primrose to kill him.
The She-bear was terrible to see, but Primrose saw nothing terrible in her, and could only think:
“Here’s somebody coming and offering me his hand, so I must give him mine.”
So Primrose raised both his little hands and held them out to the She-bear, and went straight up to her, as though his mother had called him to her arms.
Well, another moment, and the dreadful She-bear would seize him. She had come up to him, and would have caught and killed him at once had he offered to run. But she saw that she had time to consider how she had best take hold of him. So she drew herself right up, looked at Primrose from the right and from the left, and now she was going to pounce.
But at that very moment the little bear cub in the den began to squeal. One of the black wasps that always buzzed round the Votaress’s head had stung him. The cub howled lustily, because, although the Bruins are a spiteful folk themselves, they won’t stand spite from anybody else. So the cub squealed at the top of his voice, and when Bruineen heard her baby crying she forgot about Primrose and the Mountain! Bruineen dropped on all-fours and trundled away like fury to her den.
The angry She-bear caught the Votaress by the hair with her great paw. They fought, they rolled, they tore at each other, and left Primrose in peace.
Primrose followed the She-bear and looked on for a bit while they fought and scuffled; he looked, and then he laughed aloud, silly baby! and went on up the Mountain, and never knew what a narrow escape he had had!