The golden heart, and other fairy stories

by Violet Jacob

Meantime, the Ugly Prince was taking counsel of his treasure; he looked long and curiously at it; then, as he felt a little tremor fluttering between his palms, he inquired of it what he was to do to save the Princess from her bondage. A radiance like a flame rose all round the Heart, and a small, soft voice spoke. It was so low that he had to bend down his head to catch the words. “To-night,” it said, “you must watch on deck until morning, and when the two cormorants fly away at sunrise, be careful to notice from which part of the rock the female bird comes; then, when they have started on their flight, slip down into the water and swim to the place. It is a large cave, black and gloomy, but, nevertheless, swim in. The water is deep at the entrance, but when you have gone forward a few strokes, you will find a great stone rising a couple of feet above its level; let your eyes get accustomed to the darkness and you will see upon the top of this stone the cormorant’s nest. Climb to it very softly, for in it will be the three little cormorants asleep. Be sure you do not wake them. Beside them you will find three grey feathers which you must take; the first feather will give you the power of becoming invisible when you please, the second will enable you to see in the dark, and the third will enable you to understand the language of birds. When you have secured them, make yourself invisible and stay in the cavern until the mother-bird comes home. Then, keep your ears open to hear all that passes.”

The voice ceased, and the Prince, knowing he would be told no more, buttoned the Golden Heart into his doublet and prepared to wait patiently till night should come and he could take up his post on deck to watch for the coming sunrise.

The hours wore on and day slowly faded. When the dark set in he lay down, with his eyes fixed on the heavens, hardly able to bear the time which lay between him and the morning, and, when dawn came creeping on, he distinguished the dim figure of the old cormorant at his post.

He stood as though carved out of the stone beneath him until the sun’s disc appeared over the horizon-line, when, with a loud flapping, he rose in the air. The Ugly Prince lay looking at the rock as though his life depended upon it, and, from out of a deep shadow in the right side of the huge mass, the mother-bird came flying to join her mate. He kept his eyes on the spot till the last rush of wings had died upon the air, then he looked up at the Princess and plunged into the sea.

The green water had a cold chill which struck him to the marrow, but he swam steadily on, stroke after stroke, till he reached the mouth of a rugged cavern where the rock towered above his head as though poised for a moment ere it fell to crush him to atoms; and, through the darkness, he saw the outline of the flat-topped stone described by the Golden Heart.

With long strokes he swam to it, and, clinging to its jagged sides, drew himself out of the water. To climb to the top was the work of a moment. Once there, he stood staring through the gloom at the nest, which was built, as he had been told, on the summit. There lay the three little cormorants asleep, like three fluffy balls; he could just distinguish their soft bodies and their breasts heaving up and down in the deep breathing of their slumbers. Not a sound was to be heard but the lapping of the water, stirred by his swimming as it rose and fell against the stone’s foot. As his eyes became more accustomed to the darkness he saw, beside the sleeping birds, the three feathers for which he was searching. He put in his hand and took them, his heart beating high as he felt all three in his grasp and knew that the first step of his labours was accomplished. He slid down again into the salt water, having placed his new treasures carefully in his pocket. Then he seated himself in a little niche above water-mark to await the mother-bird, wishing with all his might for the promised power of seeing in the dark. Immediately every cranny in the cave became visible and he began to wonder where the mysterious passage might be which led to the witch’s dwelling.

In a short time the narrow slit of light was darkened by the form of the cormorant-mother coming back to the nest; she flew in and alighted by the side of her young ones. The Prince lost no time in wishing for the power of understanding bird-language, and, as the little birds awoke, he strained every nerve to catch any speech which might pass between the four creatures.

“Lie still, you tiresome little things,” said the mother as they all began chattering at once, “I have got some very good fish here; but not one of you shall taste a bit if you make such a noise.”

“What a long time you’ve been getting it,” squeaked one of the little birds.

“That is not the way to speak,” observed the mother, “and you must learn not to make remarks when you are not spoken to. If your father heard you talking like that he would punish you severely. I am always very quick about getting your food, and greediness is a very shocking fault—remember that.”