“Ho, ho! I am Whiskerkiss, King of Woods and Stream,” and the voice of the steersman awoke the slumbering echoes of the dreary place with ten thousand vibrations.
“Who sails through rocks and hills, and guides the torrent in its course? I, Whiskerkiss. Ho! Starmoon. Ho! my slave, delve, delve!”
Gradually the darkness became more opaque around them. Roland cast himself down at the bottom of the canoe, and awaited his fate. He closed his eyes in horror at the vision of that dread abyss.
The time passed on, and still the same ghastly darkness prevailed. Our hero knew not whether [[128]]it was night or day, or how many hours had passed since they had entered that dreadful passage under the mountain. From a sort of torpor into which he had fallen Roland was at length aroused by a touch on his cheek. It was not the touch which animated him so quickly, but the intensely pleasing sensation which it caused. Like that warm, thrilling emotion caused by the infusion of laughing gas, Roland felt a vigorous glow pervade his whole frame in an instant. He opened his eyes, but the bright rush of the noon-day light which burst unexpectedly upon his sight completely blinded him.
He shaded his eyes at first, until he should become accustomed to the glare. When at length he looked up, lo! where were Starmoon and Whiskerkiss, and the black unclean waters of the murky cavern below the mountains? Gone! With his hearing more acute, his sight much keener, and with every other faculty braced and quickened, the explorer found himself the occupant of a beautiful boat canopied with gold and silver network of rare design and workmanship. The sides and bottom of the skiff were inlaid with mother-of-pearl, while a large outspread fan, at the stern, of the same material, gave the resemblance of a gorgeous peacock floating on a silver [[129]]stream. A dozen creatures, dazzlingly fair, and dressed superbly, propelled the boat with ivory paddles; while one who appeared robed in roseate splendour stood at his side, and pointed out to him a glorious country.
Yonder shone an immense valley, shut in by Alpine hills, of a deep, rich green, spangled with flowers. Birds of every hue and shade flitted from tree to tree, and filled the air with melody. At the foot of the hills a clear lake sparkled in the sunlight, and beyond the lake rose the towers, peaks, and domes of a beautiful city of white marble, which flashed back the sun’s rays in a million shafts of different coloured lights. The magnificence of this scene grew each moment yet more glowing and brilliant as Roland Trent gazed. Soon there smote upon his ear most ravishing sounds—sounds that seemed as the tinkle of silver bells, mingled with the soft murmurs of the Æolian harp. To his astonishment Roland discovered the melody proceeded from his companions, who were conversing with each other, and in his own language. Next to the gratification of finding himself in such an enchanting region, the explorer was delighted to find these people could understand and converse with him. [[130]]
“Gentlemen,” said he, bowing politely, “will you have the goodness to tell me what country this is I now gaze upon for the first time?”
The rowers ceased rowing at the sound of his voice, and the nearest to him answered,—
“O! adored mortal, we are thy slaves. This is the kingdom of Bo-Peep, and is called Dreamland. No feet of soul-lit mortal hath ever trodden our soil before. Hail to thee! immortal one!”
“Are you the King of this fair land?” inquired our hero.