Everychild Part 28

At last, however, they came to where there was a great dark mountain ahead; and Everychild thought to himself, "Now we shall have to turn back, since it would be too much for us to ascend that high mountain."

But the Masked Lady continued to march straight toward that dark mountain--which was, as she well knew, the fearful Mountain of Reality.

The other children all beheld the mountain and they looked at one another with questioning eyes, as if each were asking the other, "Do you not consider it a terrible mountain?" Still, they never ceased to keep step with the music.

They could see the mountain clearly now. It was cold and bleak and rose into the mists of the sky. There were great chasms in its sides, and precipitous heights and walls which it would have seemed impossible to scale. It seemed of a frightful hardness, too.

Most terrible of all, wild hunters were to be seen all the way up to the summit, and terrible beasts; and also one could catch a glimpse of solitary individuals who were climbing to the highest visible points, and some of these were falling back and hurting themselves terribly.

"We cannot advance another step," thought Everychild; for now they were indeed at the very base of the mountain.

And then a miracle occurred, just when it seemed that the Masked Lady would be compelled to turn back.

The mountain opened! There was a cavity as large as an immense archway. Through this the Masked Lady advanced; and then the entire band of children marched straight into the heart of the mountain.

Everychild, looking back, perceived that the mountain had closed again after the last child had entered, so that they were now all prisoners!

That was indeed a dreadful moment; for the heart of the Mountain of Reality was a great gloomy cavern in which everything seemed quite terrible. Nor would there have seemed any way of escaping from the place. The light was but dim, so that objects were only obscurely revealed. But it could be seen that the top of the cavern was very high, while the walls were steep and formidable.

A weird sound arose. The high walls echoed it, the dark ceiling flung it back. It went trembling into far places and returned, shattered yet with its weird quality unabated.

It was the children weeping!

It seemed their hearts would break, because of the dreary place into which they had been brought. And during this time the Masked Lady only stood and looked upon the children silently.

Everychild could scarcely believe his own eyes, and he began a more careful examination of the cavern.

He came upon water in half-hidden pools. "But," he reflected, "we could not drink of this water if we were thirsty. It is quite black."

He examined the paths which led from one place to another. "We could not walk in these paths," he mused, "because they are too rough."

He examined the natural stairways which led to the upper chambers of the cavern. "But we could not climb those stairways," he decided, "since they are too steep."

He came upon beds which had been spread for himself and his companions.

"We could not sleep in these," was his conclusion, "because they are too hard."

And as he continued his examination he became aware that he was standing close to Will o'Dreams; and something in his friend's manner caused him to pause and observe him more closely.

Because of the fulness of his heart he put forth a hand and touched his friend's arm. The arm trembled. And then the sad truth became known.

The scenes he had been called upon to witness here in the cavern had been too much for Will o'Dreams. He had been stricken with blindness!

It did not seem strange to Everychild that he should wish to run immediately and tell the Masked Lady of what had befallen the giant.

Surely he must have felt a certain confidence in her, after all!

But when she had been informed of the giant's plight she only said, "Let us be patient."

And then she began to speak to all the children, calling their attention to this matter or that. "Do not be afraid to drink of the water," she said. "It seems black. That is only because it is deep."

And drinking of the water, they found it to be sweet and refres.h.i.+ng.

"Do not hold back from wandering in the paths," she added. "Your feet will take them easily."

And wandering in the paths they found that they were not so rough as they had imagined them.

"Do not falter if you wish to climb the stairways," she continued.

"Only try them."

And they tried them, and found that their limbs responded joyously to the effort they were putting forth.

"Do not shrink from sleeping in the beds which have been provided," she said at last. "They may surprise you."

And lying down in the beds which had seemed so uninviting, the children were wooed to slumber. They were really comfortable beds, after all!

Strangest of all was the fact that Will o'Dreams went about with the other children, guided by the sound of their voices, and by an occasional touch of Everychild's hand; and one after another he tested the pool and the paths and the stairs and the beds.

"Ah, how good it is to have them!" he said at last with a great sigh; and soon after he had sunk into deep and refres.h.i.+ng slumber.

Nor were the others long in following his example. They had traveled far; and it seemed good to rest now, especially as they believed they might look forward to happy and wonderful experiences on the morrow.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE MASKED LADY'S SECRET

Toward morning Everychild had a dream. In his dream his mother came and stood near him, and looked at him wonderingly and sadly. And then--in the dream--his father could be seen, standing apart and slowly shaking his head.

It seemed that there was a cry of joy in his throat, and that he ran to embrace his mother. He felt that he should weep for joy when he flung his arms about her neck and felt her face touching his.

But then he awoke, and his parents were not there: but only the great chamber in the heart of the mountain, and all the other children rising from their beds, eager to begin a new day.

He could not rid his mind of the vivid dream, nor his heart of the strange softness it had brought. And as soon as he could do so he sought the Masked Lady, his intention being to inquire of her what his dream had meant.

She stood waiting for him, as it seemed, and he approached her with increasing eagerness. And now he perceived that she was no longer wearing the dress of a piper, but had on the soft white dress in which he had first beheld her, and wore a jewel in her hair.

He had the strange thought that she might be really beautiful if only she would remove the mask which gave her face that distant expression and almost hid her eyes. And he remembered, all of a sudden, how he had often been helped by her, and how she had always been near, as if she wished to help him even more, and how she had comforted him that night when he had seen a star fall by a.s.suring him that he was _a little bit of G.o.d_.

He began speaking to her with a new feeling of constraint. "I dreamed of seeing my mother and father last night," he said.

She smiled faintly. "I know," she replied. "All the other children had the same dream. That is what all children dream of here in this chamber."

He opened his eyes very wide. How could she know what all the other children had dreamed, since it did not appear that they had told her of their dreams? But he continued: "They seemed a little sad," he said.

"My mother's eyes were troubled, and my father shook his head."

"Yes, Everychild?"

"And I wondered if I might not see them again, really. It would be good to see them again; and you know I have come so far . . ."