Never before had such tales been heard in Elfland. Trolls had appeared before in the fields we know, and had come back wondering: but Lurulu amongst the houses of Erl had been in the midst of men; and time, as he told the trolls, moved in the village with more wonderful speed than ever it did in the grass of the fields of Earth. He told how the light moved, he told of shadows, he told how the air was white and bright and pale; he told how for a little while Earth began to grow like Elfland, with a kinder light and the beginning of colours, and then just as one thought of home the light would blink away and the colours be gone. He told of stars. He told of cows and goats and the moon, three horned creatures that he found curious. He had found more wonder in Earth than we remember, though we also saw these things once for the first time; and out of the wonder he felt at the ways of the fields we know, he made many a tale that held the inquisitive trolls and gripped them silent upon the floor of the forest, as though they were indeed a fall of brown leaves in October that a frost had suddenly bound. They heard of chimneys and carts for the first time: with a thrill they heard of windmills. They listened spellbound to the ways of men; and every now and then, as when he told of hats, there ran through the forest a wave of little yelps of laughter.
Then he said that they should see hats and spades and dog-kennels, and look through casements and get to know the windmill; and a curiosity arose in the forest amongst that brown mass of trolls, for their race is profoundly inquisitive. And Lurulu stopped not here, relying on curiosity alone to draw them from Elfland into the fields we know; but he drew them also with another emotion. For he spoke of the haughty, reserved, high, glittering unicorns, who tarry to speak to trolls no more than cattle when they drink in pools of ours trouble to speak to frogs. They all knew their haunts, they should watch their ways and tell of these things to man, and the outcome of it would be that they should hunt the unicorns with nothing less than dogs. Now however slight their knowledge of dogs, the fear of dogs is—as I have said—universal amongst all creatures that run; and they laughed gustily to think of the unicorns being hunted with dogs. Thus Lurulu lured them toward Earth with spite and curiosity; and knew that he was succeeding; and inwardly chuckled till he was well warmed within. For amongst the trolls none goes in higher repute than one that is able to astound the others, or even to show them any whimsical thing, or to trick or perplex them humorously. Lurulu had Earth to show, whose ways are considered, amongst those able to judge, to be fully as quaint and whimsical as the curious observer could wish.
Then up spake a grizzled troll; one that had crossed too often Earth’s border of twilight to watch the ways of men; and, while watching their ways too long, time had grizzled him.
“Shall we go,” he said, “from the woods that all folk know, and the pleasant ways of the Land, to see a new thing, and be swept away by time?” And there was a murmur among the trolls, that hummed away through the forest and died out, as on Earth the sound of beetles going home. “Is it not today?” he said. “But there they call it today, yet none knows what it is: come back through the border again to look at it and it is gone. Time is raging there, like the dogs that stray over our frontier, barking, frightened and angry and wild to be home.”
“It is even so,” said the trolls, though they did not know; but this was a troll whose words carried weight in the forest. “Let us keep today,” said that weighty troll, “while we have it, and not be lured where today is too easily lost. For every time men lose it their hair grows whiter, their limbs grow weaker and their faces sadder, and they are nearer still to tomorrow.”
So gravely he spoke when he uttered that word “tomorrow” that the brown trolls were frightened.
“What happens tomorrow?” one said.
“They die,” said the grizzled troll. “And the others dig in their earth and put them in, as I have seen them do, and then they go to Heaven, as I have heard them tell.” And a shudder went through the trolls far over the floor of the forest.
And Lurulu who had sat angry all this while to hear that weighty troll speak ill of Earth, where he would have them come, to astonish them with its quaintness, spoke now in defence of Heaven.
“Heaven is a good place,” he blurted hotly, though any tales he had heard of it were few.
“All the blessed are there,” the grizzled troll replied, “and it is full of angels. What chance would a troll have there? The angels would catch him, for they say on Earth that the angels all have wings; they would catch a troll and smack him forever and ever.”
And all the brown trolls in the forest
