The chronicles of Fairy land

by Fergus Hume

I.
FIRE AND WATER.

ONCE upon a time, long long years ago, there was a shepherd called Duldy, who dwelt in the forests which clothed the base of the great mountain of Kel. This mountain was in the centre of an immense plain, watered by many rivers, and dotted over with many cities, for the kingdom of Metella was a very rich place indeed, so rich that the inhabitants looked upon gold in the same way as we look upon tin or iron, as quite a common thing. The plain was very fertile by reason of the great rivers which flowed through it like silver threads, and all these rivers took their rise in the mountain of Kel, a mighty snow-clad peak which shot up, white and shining, to the blue sky from amidst the bright green of its encircling forests.

There were old stories handed down from father to son, which said that the mountain was once a volcano, which, breathing nothing but fire, sent great streams of red-hot lava down to the fertile plain, to wither and blight all the beautiful gardens and rich corn-fields. But the fires in the breast of the mountain had long since died out, and for many centuries the black, rugged summit had been covered with snow, while countless streams, caused by the melting of the glaciers, fell down its rocky sides, and, flowing through the cool, green pine forests, spread themselves over the thirsty plain, so that it bloomed like a beautiful garden.

Duldy lived in these scented pine forests, and was supposed to be the son of an old couple called Dull and Day, from whence by joining both names he got his own Duldy; but he was really a lost child whom old Father Dull had found, seventeen years before, on the banks of the Foam, one of the bright sparkling streams which flowed from the snowy heights above. Dull took the child home to his wife Day, who was overcome with joy, for she ardently desired to have a little boy of her own, but never had the happiness to become a mother. This good couple took great care of Duldy, and he grew up to be a handsome youth, with golden hair, like the tint of ripe corn, and blue eyes, the colour of the sky. Any one who saw Duldy would have said he was a prince, so noble and handsome did he look, but, alas! he was only a poor shepherd lad, for, in spite of all inquiries, Dull and Day never found out who were his parents.

Now, at eighteen years of age, Duldy was the bravest youth in the forest, for, while protecting his flock of sheep, as they browsed on the thin grass of the high lands, he had killed many wolves who would have carried off the lambs. All the forest maidens were in love with Duldy, for he looked noble and grand in his simple suit of green cloth; and, moreover, it was well known that Dull and Day would certainly leave their flock of sheep to their adopted son, so Duldy would one day be a rich man—that is, rich in the eyes of the simple country people around. But the handsome shepherd never troubled his head about the maidens who sighed so ardently at his feet, for the fact is, he had one day seen the beautiful Princess Elsa when she was hunting in the forest, and had fallen deeply in love with her.

She was really charming, the Princess Elsa, tall and stately, with dark hair and dark eyes; it was no wonder that Duldy loved her, but how hopeless was that love! She was the daughter of King Arago, who ruled over the kingdom of Metella, and he was a poor unknown shepherd lad. Still all these things happened in the days of the fairies, and when fairies take a fancy to any mortal, that mortal can gain anything, however lowly he may be, from the hand of a princess to the throne of a kingdom.

But did a fairy love Duldy? Ah, that is a difficult question to answer! He was not quite sure, and yet he was almost certain that he was loved by the Water-witch Foamina.

She was the fairy of the stream called Foam, whose sparkling waters fell from a great height in a white veil down to a deep pool surrounded by delicate green ferns. From this pool the stream gushed out between two great stones, and babbled down the side of the mountain, glided round great moss-covered rocks rippled under the gnarled roots of ancient trees, and swirled into sombre pools beneath the cool shadow of its grass-fringed banks. After leaving the forest, it flowed broad and placid between rich fields of yellow corn, through old-fashioned villages, under the slender bridges which leaped from bank to bank, and at last mingled with the mighty river encircling the island upon which stood the city of Aurea, the capital of King Arago, wherein dwelt the beautiful Princess Elsa.