CHAPTER III.
A SLEEPING BEAUTY.
When morning dawned, the enchantress conducted Bob to that belt of trees before mentioned and which was situated to the rear of the hut. “See here, my son,” she said, with a wicked leer, which made her face look positively odious; “your task to-day will be to cut down every tree on the cliff—split and cut the timber into short lengths; then you must pile the whole into one great stack, so that we may have a beacon to light the night hereabouts.”
“Is that all?” answered Bob, with self-feigned contempt. “Why, dame, I could stand on my head and do all that.”
She shot another evil glance at him from beneath her shaggy brows. “I care not how you stand,” she replied, “only the work I have given you must be finished before evening. You came here on a very foolish errand, but you do not return without your lesson.”
“What errand, dame?”
“To rescue my prize. The maiden who lost her robe, eh?”
“The lady is here, then?”
“Ay, and likely to remain here, foolish boy,” she cried. “Get to work—get to work. Faint heart never won fair lady. Ho! Ho! Hi! Hi!” With these words she gave him an axe, wedges, and a mallet, then hobbled away to the hut.
Bob gazed after her with a confident smile on his handsome face. “None but the brave deserve the fair,” cried he as he set to work at his task; but at the first blow he discovered that his axe was only lead, and also that the wedges were made of tin.
“This is too hard,” he muttered angrily. “The affair with the thimble was bad enough, but this promises to become a trifle more interesting. What’s to be done now? I can’t fell trees with a leaden axe, or split logs with tin wedges, that’s certain. Well, I may as well take it easy till the fairy comes; he’ll help me out of it all right.” With this philosophical view of things our hero stretched himself full length beneath a huge gum to await his friend.
The morning had become intensely hot and sultry, therefore it was much more pleasant in the shade than felling trees in the full glare of the sun. So Bob thought, as the morning waned apace, and the heat grew more intense. Noontide found the young hunter still reclining in the shade, and not a tree down. If they had given him a proper set of tools he could have made a start at all events; as it was, he could only strain his eyes looking for Quiz to make his appearance, and he was growing tired even of that. Try as he would, he could not keep from nodding. The deep stillness, the oppressive heat, together with that low, buzzing, sleep-producing sound of insect life, appeared to draw down his eyelids as if each of them had been freighted with a four-pound weight. In the midst of his torpor, however, Bob felt a sharp pinch on his leg. Looking up, the first thing upon which his gaze rested was a very tiny lady dressed all in red. Close by stood a magnificent little carriage, from which the lady had evidently just alighted. Such a small, funny conveyance Bob had never seen before. It was constructed entirely of wild flowers, and drawn by six well-matched locusts, in lieu of ponies, with a butterfly for a coachman. By the side of the latter Bob recognised the two little men whom he had seen with Quiz the sprite.
“Pray, what are you doing here?” inquired the small lady in shrill tones.
“Alas, madam,” replied Bob, “I came here to attempt the rescue of a lovely maiden, who is under the spell of Dame Growl, the witch of this cliff.”
“Ah! And why do you not rescue the lady, instead of slumbering away your time here?” cried the fairy.
“Indeed, dear lady, the power of the enchantress can only be broken by the performance of certain very difficult tasks, which I am quite unable to perform without help.”
“What will you give me if I aid you?” inquired the tiny lady.
“Twenty kisses,” answered Bob promptly.
“Agreed! I’ll take the kisses first,” she said, with a rosy blush.
The pair of wee men on the box turned away their heads while our hero paid his hire, and the gaudy coachman got down from his perch to adjust the traces which had caught round one of the leader’s legs.
After what had happened, it appeared quite natural for Bob to hand the lady to her carriage, and, still further, to accompany her along the opposite side of the rock, chatting, smiling, and nodding pleasantly by the way until the butterfly coached the team down a broad cleft that formed an avenue to a small cave.
The tiny lady conducted the young hunter within; where he beheld one of the most lovely damsels lying asleep upon a marble couch. The sleeper seemed so divinely beautiful, that our hero stood speechless with admiration.
“Here slumbers the beauty whom you seek,” she said.
“How lovely!” responded Bob, clasping his hands together. “I will awaken her.”
“Nay, you cannot,” replied the fairy. “While the witch lives this fair, innocent maiden will remain under the spell of the enchantment.”
“Let us go and kill the witch,” urged Bob.
“Hush! That would be a worse crime still. Have patience yet a little while. Dame Growl will be punished ere long, and by the very means she has devised for your overthrow. And now be good enough to follow those two mannikins to the place where I met you. They are brave workers, and will soon accomplish your task. When it is finished, return hither with them.”
At a sign from her the wee men departed, followed by the young hunter, who marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping maiden.
Since the days when our sturdy forefathers cleared the land to build their huts, the sun had never looked down on such extraordinary tree-felling as that which the two dwarfs began on the Granite Cliff. From the point where Bob stood, it appeared as if innumerable giants were at work. Crash! crash! crash! was heard on all sides; and, still more wonderful, to note that the trees were no sooner down than they seemed to roll asunder to the desired lengths, and to split without the aid of mallet or wedges, and then to hop away like so many imps and lay themselves into a vast heap.
Long before the evening our hero saw the task completed; but the dwarfs had not finished yet. With the same amazing despatch they gathered together all the dry leaves and the dead timber, and piling these against the stock, they set fire to the whole mass.
It was not long ere a mighty conflagration arose which wrapped the apex of the mountain in a sheet of fire. The forked tongues shot upward to the clouds, and across the space where the house stood, until it was seen as in the midst of a furnace.
The hunter hastened back to the cave when the flames began to ascend. As he reached the place, a great shock seemed to rend the cliff asunder.
“What is that?” he cried.
“It is the death of the wicked enchantress, Dame Growl,” answered the wee lady. “The fire has enfolded her in its embrace, and so her power is at an end. See! the sleeping beauty is awakening from the spell.”
While the fairy uttered the words, Bob saw the maiden stretch out her shapely arms and fold them about her golden locks, and at the same time she sighed deeply.
“Approach, mortal,” continued the fay, with a smile. “Touch her lips with thine, so shall it rouse her into waking life; for upon whom her bright eyes shall first rest there will her love take root and abide for ever.”
And the youth kissed the budding, rosy mouth, and as he did so, behold! there opened to his gaze a vision of Paradise.