Rupert, of course, could not refuse to do as she asked, but the thought of having to beat her filled him with disgust. After a pause she arose, and bade him do the same.
“Now,” she said, “it is time for you to continue your journey. I cannot go with you farther, but you must continue straight ahead, turning neither to the right nor left, and take the greatest care you can of the zirbal nuts, for they are the best protection you can have against every sort of spell. You will find me here on your return, but be sure you do not forget to bring with you some of the rods which grow underneath the Hair Tree.”
Rupert promised, and said adieu, and went on his way; but he was so full of thoughts of poor Trevina and her sorrows that he had almost forgotten the Queen’s hair and the reward, and was more anxious to find the wonderful Hair Tree, that he might beat the tigress with the rods he found there, than to gather the hair seeds for the Queen.
As he went on he found the path growing narrower and narrower, and the rocks on each side grew larger and larger, and began to arch over the top of the path, and to darken it. All round the wind moaned piteously, and from far off he could hear a sound like running water. At last he came to a place where the rocks blocked up the path, and in them he perceived a small door. He pushed it open, and stepped through into a long dark narrow passage, down which he-walked. Presently a faint light became visible, and after a time he found himself in front of a high wall, so high that he could not see to the top, in which was a gate on which was written, in letters of gold—
“Only he who knows can enter here,
Yet only he can know, who enters without fear.”
Then Rupert remembered what the bird had said, and stood in front of the gate and said—
“I know, I know;
Inside the wind doth blow,
Inside the waters flow;
This makes the Hair Tree grow—
I know, I know.”
In a moment the door flew open, and Rupert stepped inside and looked about him.
He found himself standing at the beginning of a long flat tract of country, but for a moment or two he was so dazzled by the light which enveloped everything, that he could scarcely see.
This light was quite unlike anything he had ever seen; it was of a pale clear green colour, and as his eyes grew a little more used to it, he perceived that it filled every nook and corner, and the only shade anywhere was thrown by the black rays of a black sun in the sky!
It was very strange. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but there it was sure enough. The sun was coal black, and threw out long black rays, while everywhere else was light.
A little in front was a black river flowing around an island, in the centre of which was a mound where grew a tree—such a tree! At sight of it Rupert’s heart gave a great bound, and he felt as if he would go mad with joy, for he knew when he saw it he had come to the end of his journey. On that tree grew no leaves, but it was covered with soft fine hair, which grew from all its branches and fell in waves to the ground. He could not see it very plainly, for the river was wide; but he saw that the island was covered with plants of various kinds. He sat down on the pebbly bank of the river, gazing across and wondering if the water were deep, or how he should manage to cross to the other side. While he was sitting thinking, he put his hand into his pocket and drew out a zirbal nut. Just as he was looking at it, he heard a rippling of the water, and perceived an immense swan swimming along towards him. It was as large as a horse, and brilliant yellow all over, with eyes of shining red that shot out sparks of fire. Rupert sprang back from the bank, for the swan appeared to be very angry, and called out in an awful voice—
“What man are you? and what do you do here so near the magic Hair Tree?”
“My name is Rupert,” said the sailor, trembling in every limb, “and I mean no harm; I only wish to gather some of the seeds to bring back the Queen’s hair. I should be much obliged to you if you will tell me how to get over the water, and if it’s deep.”
The swan did not answer, but its eyes were fixed on the nut in Rupert’s hand, which it was eyeing greedily.
“What have you there?” it said, after a pause, in a much quieter voice. “Surely that is a zirbal nut. Dear me, it is two thousand years since I tasted one. Give me a bit of that one.”
“I am sure you are very welcome to it,” Rupert was beginning, but he stopped himself in time, and said instead—
“If you will take me on your back across the river, and wait for me and bring me back after I have got some hair seeds, I will give you this one, but on no other condition.”
The swan stopped, and thought, and then said, “Very well;” and swimming close to the bank, beckoned to Rupert to get on his back. He obeyed, and the swan swam swiftly over the water. As it approached the farther side, it turned its long
