Wonderland

Mount with me, my little friends, upon the wings of fancy. Don’t be

alarmed—the conveyance is perfectly safe, and warranted free from

accidents. Hi, Presto! Here we stand upon the famous Blue Mountains of

our neighbour, whose glens, dells, and deep ravines are haunted by

creatures beautiful beyond conception, and grotesque, and stranger than

any painter dreamed of. Yonder, on the mountain-side, the western train

is seen puffing its way along the gigantic “zigzag,” like a huge

serpent, and whose hot breath takes weird shapes before it is lost in

the blue haze above it. Beneath, on that natural terrace of rock,

stands the humble hut of the charcoal-burner, whose single window

overlooks a deep valley of monster trees—fallen and half-buried amongst

great blocks of stone and rank vegetation.

But who is that woman who is wringing her hands, and calling and

weeping by turns, as she runs to and fro among the chaos of undergrowth

and the ledges around? It is the wife of the charcoal-burner, and she

calls for her two children, who have wandered away and become lost in

this wild region. It was early morn when they strolled forth to

play—Edith and Winnie, both little toddlers, and quite helpless—yet the

sun is on the rim of the horizon and they cannot be found.

“Coo-ee, coo-ee!—Winnie—Edie, my darlings, where are you? Oh, where are

you?” cries the poor mother; and her voice grows faint and weary as she

calls to the echoing cliffs about. She becomes aware that some one is

answering her as she is about to retrace her steps to the hut. The

voice is far off at first, but it becomes gradually nearer and nearer,

until a rough mountain goat with long horns presents itself before her.

“I am here. What do you want with me?” it said, bowing itself before

her.

It was a beautiful animal, with a soft, white, silky fleece, and large,

kind-looking eyes, while its voice sounded so full of sympathy that the

suffering mother answered readily,—

“Oh, sir! I have lost my two children; pray tell me, have you seen

them?”

“I have seen them,” answered the goat. “And if you have sufficient

courage to follow my advice they shall soon be restored to you. I am

the guardian sprite of this glen, which my race have occupied since the

Flood. Here on this mountain are two kingdoms; the one on the surface

called Love; the other, beneath the surface, termed Hate. We are ever

at war with each other; therefore, I am here to serve you. Learn, O

mortal, that Croak and Gloom, of the lower world, have stolen your

children, and they have hid them within the bowels of the mountains.”

“Then they are dead, and I shall never see them more,” replied the

woman, falling on her knees and weeping bitterly.

“I have said they shall be restored to you again,” replied the goat

quickly. “My power is far mightier than the whole nation of Hate

combined. Have you faith that I can help you?”

“Yes,” she answered, “because Love is stronger than Hate.”

“Good. Extend your hand and pluck a tuft of hair from my right side,

roll it in your fingers, then twist it round your finger above your

wedding-ring.”

The charcoal-burner’s wife did as the goat desired her, but she had

scarcely finished before the animal vanished from her sight, and she

felt herself bodily lifted up, and borne away over the deep ravine, and

across over-hanging cliffs and the tops of tall trees, and away down

into a yawning chasm, which seemed like a deep and bottomless well.

Down, down, she went swiftly, yet with an easy, sliding motion that was

not at all unpleasant, while she felt no fear, save for the fate of her

little ones. She had a feeling of a powerful presence being near and

about her—extending from the finger on which was twisted the goat’s

hair round and round her person, and beneath her feet, like the strong

net-work of a balloon. Even when the void grew dim and black, a strange

glow, emanating from the ring, lit up the darkness and revealed to her

wondering eyes many earth-bound treasures. Here gleamed thick seams of

coal, and there slabs of tin and copper ores, and beyond these shone

white masses of stone, like marble, with thick veins of gold therein,

which sparkled athwart the woman’s eyes, and made her almost forget her

children, so great became her desire to possess some of it While she

cogitated she suddenly became conscious that she was upon her feet,

standing before a large cavern gate, guarded by a tall griffin, who

cried out the moment he espied her, “Who dare enter into the realm of

Hate?”

And the woman answered quickly, “Love. Love dares everything, because,

being pure, it is fearless. I have come to demand my children.”

The monster laughed at her, and advanced with a large stone to dash out

her brains; but the white goat, transformed now into a handsome youth,

with a sharp, gleaming sword in his hand, advanced boldly to the

rescue, and soon defeated the grim warder, took his keys without more

ado, and opening several doors, led his companion through a labyrinth

of caves until they reached a second gate guarded like the first, the

warder having the body of an ass and the head of a wolf. “Who knocks at

the gates of Hate?” he said fiercely.

“Love,” answered the valiant fairy, waving his sword.

“Love isn’t wanted here,” replied the monster. “Begone! Or I will kill

you both.” Whereupon he opened the gate and advanced towards them; but

the elfin engaged him at once, and so great was his power that he

overturned the creature in a moment.

“Now, Malice, I have thee,” cried the brave sprite sternly. “Yield up

thy keys and get thee hence, and hide thyself, together with Envy, at

the outer gate, for if I find you here on my return I will slay you

both.”

Malice gave up his keys and ran howling along the rocky caverns of the

place; while Love, the elfin, led the woman onward through a catacomb

of dismal vapour, which ended in a series of arched chambers, draped

and festooned with sheets of solid gold. The horrid creatures who

inhabited the place were hideous and frightful to behold. Some had two

heads, others were without legs or arms; many crawled like snakes, and

not a few presented the appearance of being half man and half beast.

These monsters fled in all directions at the sight of Love, and so he

passed onward unmolested until he came to Cavernous Hall—the palace of

Croak and Gloom—and here he found the two great chiefs of Hate with the

children, Winnie and Edith. The hall was filled with the rank and

fashion of the nation to see the wonderful mortals of the upper world;

and into their midst walked Love and the woman hand-in-hand.

“Who are these strange people?” cried the terrible voice of Gloom,

grasping the little ones in his arms, for they had uttered a glad cry

at sight of their mother.

“My children! Oh, give me my children!” pleaded the woman.

“Mortal, how came you here?” inquired the grim Croak.

“It was I who guided her hither,” answered the elfin.

“Then thou shalt die,” exclaimed the vast throng, as with one voice.

“Not all your hosts of this dim region nor your power can destroy me.

Dash me to pieces against the rugged walls of your palace, burn me to

ashes, and scatter them to the vapours, still I shall rise up stronger,

in some other form to give you battle. Give the woman her little ones.”

“Beware! Let the race of this mortal give us back our stolen treasures.

They have invaded our domain, and have rifled it of some of its richest

treasures. Through soil and rock and granite they have delved down,

down into this under world, until we could hear the ring of their

tools. And we have seen them change our dim regions into a wilderness.”

While Croak uttered these words the elfin glided swiftly forward,

seized the children, and placing them safely in the mother’s arms,

cried hurriedly, “Begone; run to the outer gate, and my power shall

bear you company and carry you swiftly to the upper air. Quick!”

And the woman, pressing her babes tightly to her throbbing bosom, fled

away, and rising through the mists which obscure the lower world,

regained the hut on the cliff; while Love battled with the legions of

Hate, and battles with them still—ay! and will battle with them to the

end of time.