Others said, more acceptably, ‘Let us think not of the dragon. What the spearmen can do, that will they do. Let this day be as other days, and each man to the task that is his.’ Brud was one of those who hurried away gladly. Nor was Thol loth to follow. The chance that the dragon might come out in his absence did not worry a boy so unprepared to-day for single combat; and if other hands than his were to succeed in slaying the dragon, he would liefer not have the bitterness of looking on.
Thia also detached herself from the throng. Many voices of men and women and children called after her, bidding her stay. ‘I would find me some task,’ she answered.
‘O Thia,’ said one, ‘find only flowers for your hair. And sing to us, dance for us. Let this day be as other days.’ And so pleaded many voices.
But Thia answered them, ‘My heart is too sad. We are all in peril. For myself I am not afraid. But how should I dance, who love you? Not again, O dear ones, shall I dance, until the dragon be slain or gone back across the water. Neither shall I put flowers in my hair nor sing.’
She went her way, and was presently guiding a flock of geese to a pond that does not exist now.
She sat watching the geese gravely, fondly, as they swam and dived and cackled. She was filled with a sense of duty to them. They too were homelanders and dear ones. She wished that all the others could be so unknowing and so happy.
A breeze sprang up, swaying the column of smoke and driving it across the valley, on which it cast a long, wide, dark shadow.
Thia felt very old. She remembered a happy and careless child who woke—how long ago!—and went looking for mushrooms. And this memory gave her another feeling. You see, she had eaten nothing all day.
Near the pond was a cherry-tree. She looked at it. She tried not to. This was no day for eating. The sight of the red cherries jarred on her. They were so very red. She went to the tree unwillingly. She hoped no one would see her. In your impatience at the general slowness of man’s evolution, you will be glad to learn that Thia, climbing that tree and swinging among the branches, had notably more of assurance and nimble ease than any modern child would have in like case. It was only her mind that misgave her.