The slim little bamboo did not answer back. She only bent her head and cried bitterly. The flowers felt sorry for her and breathed their soft perfume about her to comfort her.
As the days went by the slim bamboo grew prettier, and the children loved her more and more. They played beneath her waving branches, they made flower chains and garlands and hung them from her boughs.
“See,” they cried in childish glee. “This is the Lady Silver Mist. Let us tie a flower obi[5] around her slender waist;” and they bound a girdle of flowers about her.
One day there came woodmen to the forest, and they chopped down many of the trees, trampling the grass and the flowers under foot. When they saw the big bamboo they said,
“Here is a tall, straight tree. It will do for a mast. We will cut it first.”
“Good-by,” said the boastful bamboo to the slender one. “I am going to see the world and do great things. Good-by, child, I hope you will not be used to make rain coats. When I am on the bright and beautiful sea I shall remember and pity you!”
“Good-by,” sighed his little comrade. “Good fortune go with you.”
The big bamboo was cut down, and the hillside saw him no more. When, however, the woodmen came to the little tree, they smiled to see it so beautifully garlanded with flowers and they said, “This little tree has friends.”
Then the children took courage and ran to the woodcutters and cried, “Pray do not cut down our tree! In all the forest we love it best. It is the Lady Silver Mist and it has been our playmate for many moons.”
“You must dig it up and bear it away if you wish to save its life,” said the chief woodman. “We are sent to this forest to clear it, so that a grand palace may be built upon the hillside where all is so fair and beautiful.”