On a Pincushion

lines, ran down to the water’s edge, but finding there no means of escape, I flung myself on the ground, crying and sobbing. I felt sure that in time my father and sisters would miss me, and come to the island to search for me, but the notion of being left alone with my horrid tortoise lover till they could come was dreadful. All that night I sat upon a rock close by the water’s edge, weeping bitterly, but still feeling quite sure that in the morning I should see my father coming for me; but morning came and he did not appear, and the day passed away, and still he did not come, and when evening came round again, I began to fear I must give myself up, and had determined that, rather than listen to the odious tortoise-king, I would throw myself into the water, and so put an end to my life. I was standing upon a rock looking into the clear green water, and thinking whether I would wait another day or spring into it at once, and so end my troubles, when I heard a soft voice above me saying, “Trevina,” and looking up, I saw a beautiful seagull floating in the air.

“Poor Trevina,” it said, “I can’t carry you away, but I can take a message to your father. I hate the tortoise-king and his mother as much as you do, and would gladly do anything to annoy them. Tell me what I shall say to your father, and I will fly to him tonight.”

“Will you really, dear, dear gull?” cried I, joyfully. “I shall be grateful to you all my life. Go, then, and tell him that I was stolen by the tortoise-king, and am upon the little island. Tell him to come for me at once, and to bring plenty of guns and swords with which to kill the tortoises.” But scarcely were the words out of my mouth when there was a rumbling noise beside me, and with a bang like thunder a gulf opened in the ground, and there started up through it a hideous figure, very much like the tortoise-king, but bigger and fatter, whom I at once guessed to be his mother. The seagull, at sight of her, gave a shrill cry and flew away.

“So, girl,” she cried, in a dreadful voice, “not content with rejecting my son’s noble offers, you would try to put an end to his life. It is lucky, indeed, for him that, with a mother’s care, I have been watching him and you, when he thought me far away. I was sure no good would come of it, when he honoured you, a common human being, with his love, instead of offering it, as I wished, to the snake-princess. But now you shall be punished. Bitterly may you regret your unfeeling conduct.”

At this moment I saw the tortoise-king coming in haste towards us, waddling as fast as his little short legs and heavy shell would let him.

He turned to his mother, and, falling on his knees before her, tried to calm her rage⁠—but in vain. She continued, more fiercely than before⁠—

“Yes! you shall be well punished, for you shall become a tigress; and, left by yourself in the enchanted land, you will wish you had been grateful to my son for his kindness in offering to make you his wife.” Then she waved her black hands in the air, and I felt a dreadful change coming upon me. Hair was growing all over me. My arms became forelegs like those of a tiger. I felt that a tail was beginning to sprout out behind.

“And now,” cried the tortoise-queen, her eyes sparkling with spiteful pleasure, “you may be very thankful if you remain in your present condition; but if you only eat one mouthful of flesh, you will become a real tigress, and then you can never regain your proper form. As it is, the only way by which you can ever recover your own shape is by being beaten till you bleed, by a man with the rods that grow beneath the Hair Tree.”

I could not speak: I tried, but my voice was choked with tears. I clasped my hands, but found that they would not close on account of the claws which were growing at the ends. I threw myself on the ground at the Queen’s feet to beg for mercy, but I was not allowed to remain long, for, taking me by the nape of my neck, she carried me quickly through the air, and did not stop till we reached this island, where she flung me on the ground with a spiteful laugh, and vanished. For some time I lay in silent misery, till roused by the voice of the seagull calling me by name, and raising myself, I saw it hovering near me.

“Poor Trevina,” he said mournfully, “you are worse off now than you were before; but keep a good heart. You will some time recover your proper form, I feel sure; but be sure you eat nothing but herbs.”

I thanked the seagull, and tried to feel more cheerful; but my case seemed a hard one, for how was ever any man to come to this enchanted ground? And if anyone did get so far, I knew there must be great difficulty in getting the rods from the Hair Tree.

You are the first man I have seen since I was brought here; and since that time I have lived on grass and herbs. Every day have I wept afresh at the thought that I should never again see my dear home or my father and sisters; and my joy, therefore, on seeing you knew no bounds.”

As she finished, the tigress turned on one side to wipe away a tear, and Rupert was scarcely less moved than she by the story of her misfortunes.

“But how can I help you, poor Trevina?” said he, after a pause.

“Help me!” cried the tigress,