TONY WAS STAMPED ON BY THE GREAT SEAL, WHO WAS VERY FIERCE.
“But my name is Tony after all,” he said to himself as he went home, full of sad memories of the Mace and the Great Seal. “I wonder where the Blue Mountain is?”
Young Tony thought a good deal about poor Henry Birkbeck’s prophecy. Perhaps the Great Seal had stamped it on his memory. Anyway he could not forget it, and all the next day he was wandering about on the steep edge of the town, looking out over the landscape below. It was not an interesting landscape. All round the brown hill where the town was lay the vast forests of green trees, something like bamboos, whose fruit the people ate; and beyond that one could see the beginnings of a still larger forest, where none of the people of Antioch had ever dared to go—the forest, whose leaves were a hundred times as big as the King himself, and the trunks of the trees as big as whole countries. Above all was the blue sky—but, look as Tony would, he could see no blue mountain.
Then suddenly he saw the largest forest shake and shiver—its enormous leaves swaying this way and that.
“It must be an earthquake,” said Tony, trembling, but he did not run away. And his valour was rewarded as valour deserves to be. The next moment the vast branches of the enormous forest parted, and a giant figure came out into the forest of bamboo-like trees. It was a figure more gigantic than Tony had ever imagined possible. It had long yellow hair. In its hand it carried a great white bowl, big enough to float a navy in. If such an expression did not sound rather silly, I should say that this figure gave Tony the idea of a little-girl-giant. It sat down among the bamboo forest, crushing millions of trees as it sat. With a spoon twice the length of the King’s banqueting hall, it began to eat out of the tremendous basin. Tony saw great lumps, like blocks of soft marble, balanced on the vast spoon, and he knew that the giant-little-girl was eating giant-bread-and-milk. And she wore a giant frock, and the frock was blue. Then Tony understood. This was the “Blue Mountain,” and in that big big sea of a basin there was milk—the Blue Mountain’s milk.
Tony stood still for a moment, then turned and ran as hard as he could straight into the Royal presence. To be more exact, he ran into the Royal waistcoat, for the King, in a hurry, as usual, was coming out of his palace gates with a rush. The King was extremely annoyed. He refused to listen to a word Tony had to say until Parliament had been called together, and had passed a Bill strengthening the enactments against cheek. Then he allowed Tony to tell his tale. And when the tale was told every one ran to the battlements of the town to look. There was no blue mountain to be seen.
