"I don't believe," said she, "that we shall be any more likely to reach these lights than I was to get to the foot of the rainbow, which you know I tried once and had the mortification of being laughed at by the monkeys in consequence. Nevertheless, I will do as you say, my dear; you know best."
That very night, accordingly, the two set out in search of the Northern Lights. They travelled for days and weeks. Every once in a while, when they began to get discouraged, the Aurora would appear and they would press on with new hope. At last they came to a very cold country. Here they made enquiries of a polar bear. Now the Polar Bear is generally courteous. Like all the family he is very affectionate and always gives one a hearty embrace upon meeting; but he is not sincere. It so happened that his family also had a story and about these very Northern Lights. The story was, that if one could find the foot of them one would discover an immense hole or pit where one could sleep forever. This was precisely what the polar bears most wanted, and they were forever going north in search of the hole. This particular Polar Bear that the Elephants met was at that very time on his way thither. So he thought to himself, "This will never do. If these immense animals reach the hole—for I'm sure that is what they are going for, the idea of the stars is only an absurd blind—they will occupy all the room." This he said to himself, and then he turned to the Elephants and said in answer to their question as to the most direct road—"You will have to keep to the east for some distance; then you will come to ice; cross it and you will come to land again, after which you can again enquire as I am unable to direct you further; though if you go a little south, and call on my cousins, the Black Bears, they will be very happy to give you any information. Just mention my name to them and it will be sufficient." He knew very well that the Black Bears knew nothing whatever of the matter. What they wished was to find the Great Tree up which they could climb and in which they could burrow. But all that the Polar Bear wanted was to put the Elephants off the track.
They thanked him for his politeness, and followed his directions. They came to the ice which they crossed; and once more they trode on land, but upon a new continent—upon North America, in fact, as it is now called. "I am not so sure about this matter of going south," said the father-Elephant. "It seems to me that we shall be going away from the Northern Lights. I begin to mistrust the Polar Bear."
"But my dear," said the mother-Elephant, "surely the way has been just as he told us; and I could never doubt one so evidently warm-hearted. Besides, don't you think it would be best to get where it is a little warmer? You know we don't propose going ourselves; the journey is taken solely on account of our son not yet born. We might let him grow a little in a warmer country and then conduct him to the Northern Lights."
The father-Elephant would not agree with her; he preferred to have his own way; but finally he said: "I think we will go a little farther South, on the whole. I am not sure but there is an easier way of getting to the North, by taking just a little southerly and then an easterly course." This was a very foolish reason, but it satisfied him. All he wished was to do as he chose and not because his wife advised it. It satisfied her too. All she wanted was to get where it was a little warmer; but she found it hard not to say—"that is just the plan I proposed." She was wise not to say it however.
They had suffered a great deal by this time. So much travel and so much severe weather, had brought sorrow and discomfort to them. They were really thin for Elephants. The father-Elephant had lost much flesh, and his skin hung about him very loosely. They complained too of the trees; they were so stunted and such poor eating. They were, in truth, very miserable. They even began to care but little for the object of their journey. The object was changed in fact. Before, they were only anxious to reach the Northern Lights—the staircase to the stars. Now, all they desired was to reach a warmer place—one like that where they once lived.
At last the father-Elephant, overcome by all his trouble died; but the mother-Elephant sustained by the hope of her unborn son, still pressed toward the South, and rejoiced as the days grew warmer. Finally, she reached a pleasant place where the hills were all about her, and the sun shone warmly. Here was born the young Elephant, the son of the two Elephants who had travelled so far. The mother now felt herself very weak.
"My son," she began with great difficulty, "there is a tradition"—but just as she got through the word, she died, and the young Elephant in vain listened for the rest of the sentence.
"What's a tradition? I wonder," he said to himself. "It must be something to eat, I am excessively hungry." He looked round and saw a birch tree standing by. "Ah! that must be the tradition my mother meant, when she said, 'There is a tradition.' Yes, her trunk is pointing to it." So he pulled up the birch tree and devoured it, as well as he could. The young Elephant continued to wander among the mountains but with no great purpose in life; for he was totally ignorant of the story that one of his race would one day mount to the sky and dwell among the stars, so that he was without that great object before him. Neither did he know how much suffering his father and mother had gone through, that he might be the fortunate Elephant who should ascend the sky. It was spring when he was born. The days grew warmer and warmer and he enjoyed them exceedingly. But after a while the days became shorter and the sun was not so hot.
"What is the meaning of this?" he one day asked of a Black Bear with whom he was somewhat intimate.