The Hair Tree
Many years ago there lived a young Queen who was said to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Her skin was white and smooth as ivory, and her eyes bright as stars. But her greatest beauty was her hair. It was neither black nor gold, but exactly halfway between, just the colour of a dead beech-leaf It was so long that it trailed behind her on the ground, and so thick that it took three maids to plait and arrange it every morning. Every day it was scented and washed by the court hairdresser, who examined it carefully to see that it was not growing thinner or falling off. The Queen’s husband, the King, was as proud of it as his wife, and gave her all sorts of lovely jewellery with which to dress it—diamond pins and golden combs—and by his special command the court gardener always kept the best flowers for the Queen to place in her hair.
And not only the King and Queen, but all the courtiers and court ladies—indeed, everyone in the country—praised and admired this beautiful hair; and although some of the court ladies were rather jealous of it, yet all agreed that it would be a real national misfortune if any harm came to it.
One morning the Queen was sitting at her window at work, when a big bird flew past. It was much like an eagle, with a hooked beak and ugly fierce eyes. It hovered around the window for some time, and at last settled on a tree outside and watched the Queen, who did not look up till she was surprised by hearing the bird say in a croaking voice—
“Good day, Queen; you’ve plenty of hair.”
The Queen laughed, well pleased that even a common eagle should notice her beautiful tresses.
“Yes,” she said, shaking it around her. “I’ve more than any other lady in the land.”
“Then you’ve enough to give me a little,” said the bird. “I can’t find anything soft to line my nest with, and some of your hair would do nicely.”
“My hair!” cried the Queen, staring at the bird in astonishment; “my beautiful hair to line your common nest with! You must be mad. Do you know that I’m the Queen, and that I value my hair more than anything on earth?”
“Nevertheless, it would do very nicely for my nest, and I advise you to give me some of it,” croaked the eagle.
“Indeed, I shall do nothing of the kind,” said the Queen, eagerly. “I never heard such impertinence in my life. Fly away immediately, or I will send out some of the soldiers to shoot you.”
“They couldn’t do it,” said the bird, with a low laugh; “and if you tell them to try, you will be sorry for it afterwards. Now, I shall only give you one more chance. Queen, will you give me some of your hair for my nest?”
“No, I shall not,” answered the Queen, half crying with anger; “it is very presumptuous of you to ask for such a thing.”
The bird said no more, but rising into the air began to fly slowly round and round the tree on which he had been perched, and as he flew he sang these words in a low voice—
“As the wind blows this tree’s twigs bare,
So shall the proud Queen lose her hair;
The leaves shall come back with the first spring rain,
But when shall the Queen find her hair again?”
When he had done, the eagle gave a shrill cry and disappeared, leaving the Queen in astonishment at his conduct.
It was autumn, and she heard the wind whistling in the branches, and presently a number of leaves dropped from the cherry-tree, and fluttered to the ground, and, at the same moment, a handful of her curls fell out into her lap.
The Queen started up in alarm, and ran with tears in her eyes to the King to tell him what had happened. The King laughed at her fears, assuring her the bird could do her no harm, and that it was only by chance that her hair fell out just then.
Yet the Queen could not feel comfortable, and that night, when her ladies were brushing her hair, a quantity came out on the brushes and two or three locks fell to the ground. Next morning when she awoke she found some long soft brown tresses lying loose on her pillow, and when she got out of bed, a whole shower fell from her head to the floor.
The Queen wrung her hands in despair, and at once sent for the court hairdresser, who came, bringing with him a number of bottles, all containing lotions to make the hair grow; but all the lotions in the world were of no use. There was no denying the fact that the Queen’s hair was falling out in a most alarming manner. There was scarcely enough for her ladies to plait, and a bald spot was beginning to show on the top of her head. She dared not look at the cherry-tree to see if its branches were beginning to look bare also, but at every gust she heard the leaves falling, and trembled as she thought how soon they would all be gone. At last one morning, after the wind had been very fierce and strong, she ran to the window, and, looking out, saw that the cherry-tree’s branches were quite bare—not a leaf to be seen anywhere. Then she turned to her looking-glass, and, dreadful to behold, she was quite bald also. Her last lock of hair had fallen off and left her head as smooth and white as an egg. At this fearful sight the Queen screamed and fainted, and when her ladies came to help her they were all so shocked that they could scarcely speak. As for the King, his grief was so great that he sobbed aloud.
The Queen was laid on her bed, and the court physicians and hairdressers held a great consultation as to what was to be done to make her hair grow, and it was agreed that her head should go through a regular course of treatment. In the meantime she said she would keep her room, and it was given out that she was very ill, in order that the common people might not know what a dreadful thing had happened. But all the doctors and hairdressers could do nothing. Not a single hair reappeared on the Queen’s bare white head, and it was impossible to conceal the fact any longer. There was great sorrow all over the country when it became known, and a general mourning was proclaimed till the Queen’s hair should have grown again. In the meantime she wore a little lace cap trimmed with jewels. It was a very pretty little cap, and very becoming—so, at least, all the courtiers said. But it was not so beautiful as her own hair, and the Queen felt this so much that the first time she appeared in public in her cap she could scarcely help crying.
So things went on for a little time, and the doctors and hairdressers were all racking their brains to find something to make hair grow. But the Queen fretted so much that she lost her appetite and really fell ill, and was obliged to keep to her bed. The first night after her illness she dreamt a dream, which she thought about all day long. She dreamt that she was sitting in the palace garden, when there came up a little man, who was the strangest object she had ever seen. He was no bigger than a big spider, and all dressed in green. When he saw her he began to dance and sing this rhyme:—
“When the grass is thin, you must mow it, mow it, mow it,
But when the ground is bare, you must sow it, sow it, sow it.”
And as he sang these words he took out a handful of tiny seeds from his pocket, and began to scatter them about. Directly there sprang up a little plant, which grew and grew and grew until it became a big tree, and then it put forth buds, and the buds burst, and there came out not leaves, but tiny locks of hair, which grew and grew until they touched the ground, and covered the tree all over.
When the Queen awoke she could think of nothing but the strange Hair Tree; and that night when she went to sleep she dreamt exactly the same thing. On the third night she had the same dream again, and when she awoke she called to her husband, and told him of what she had dreamt three nights running.
“And now, my dear husband,” she continued, “I am sure that the only thing which can ever make my hair grow is some seeds from the Hair Tree. I entreat you to spare no effort to discover it, and to offer a reward to anyone who will bring you news of it. For I feel”—here the Queen’s voice grew very husky—“that if I do not find it I shall never recover my hair, and if not, I shall die, for I cannot live without it.” So saying she fell back on the pillow and closed her eyes.
The King at once called a great meeting of his lords together, and told them the Queen’s dream, and a herald was sent round to proclaim that one hundred thousand pounds would be given to anyone who could bring some seeds from the Hair Tree, or even tell where it was to be found. And great placards were pasted up all over the kingdom, offering the reward. So everyone began to talk of this strange Hair Tree, which no one had ever heard of before, and to wonder where it could be—for all would have liked to have earned the reward—but all agreed that the Hair Tree was nowhere in that country.
Now it chanced that a poor sailor named Rupert saw one of the placards, and stopped to read it. He was a strong young man, but he had neither father nor mother, nor sisters nor brothers, and he felt so lonely that he did not care what became of him.
So when he saw the placard and the large reward that was offered to anyone who could bring news of the Hair Tree, he began to wonder where it was, and if he could not find it.
“One hundred thousand pounds is a lot of money,” he said to himself. “There is no reason why I should not find it as well as another man. I have a good mind to go and look for it, though it seems rather a wild-goose chase.”
So he packed up his things, and took a little boat, and sailed away towards the north; for it was there, he knew, was a strange country where animals speak like men and women, and plants have hands and eyes; and he thought that there he might find the wonderful Hair Tree.
In the meantime half the young men in the kingdom had started off to search, hoping to win the reward. Some went east, some went west, some north, some south; and they sought in every imaginable place and country. Some gave it up very soon, and returned home, saying that there was no such tree. Others went on and on, asking everyone they met if they had heard of or seen it, and finding no trace of it, yet, being determined not to give it up and return home empty-handed, went still farther and farther. And so months passed away, and the Queen’s head still remained bald.
In order that her Majesty might not be annoyed by the sight of other women’s hair when her own was gone, the King ordered that they should all wear little caps which quite covered the head and came down on the forehead; and because no one liked these caps, and all thought them very unbecoming, the court ladies were almost as anxious as the Queen that the tree should be found, and her hair grow again.
Rupert sailed and sailed to the north till he began to think he must be coming to the magic country of which he had heard. For a long time he went on without seeing land anywhere, but at last he came in sight of a little island standing quite alone in the middle of the water. On it there grew neither grass nor flowers of any sort, but three solitary trees. One was much like a common nut-tree, only all the nuts were of a bright red colour; the boughs of the second were laden with precious stones of all kinds, diamonds and rubies, emeralds and pearls; but the third tree was the strangest of all, for its boughs were quite bare, and looked as if they were made of polished brass, and on the centre at the top grew an enormous pod, which pointed straight at the sky. It looked like a great brass drum.
Rupert pulled up his boat, and, springing on to the island, filled his pockets full of precious stones and common nuts, and then stood still looking at the enormous pod and wondering what it could contain. While he watched it there was a noise like a clap of thunder, and the pod burst asunder, and twelve round shining golden nuts fell to the ground. At the same time the tree withered as if it had been struck by lightning, and the brass branches all fell away.
Rupert was so frightened by the noise the pod made in bursting that he had buried his face in the ground, but when he found all was quiet again, he slowly raised himself, and picked up one of the gold nuts to examine it. As they were pretty and bright, he thought he would take them all for curiosities, and he placed them on the seat of his little boat. But as he rowed away from the island he began to feel sure he was coming to the enchanted land. The fishes no longer started away from the side of the boat, but swam after it in a long trail, and when he baited his line and threw it overboard not one would bite, but swam up quite close to the hook and then turned away, giving little low, scoffing laughs. Rupert was sorely puzzled, and sat looking at the water in wonder, when he heard a whirring of wings overhead, and a great yellow bird flew round the boat, and at last perched on the prow and peered curiously into his face.
After a few minutes it said, “Are those nuts you have in your pocket?”
Rupert said “Yes,” and drawing out a handful of the red nuts, offered them to the bird.
“Crack some and give me the kernels,” said the bird. Rupert obeyed, afraid to refuse, as he remembered what a dreadful thing had happened to the poor Queen for not being polite to a bird. The bird went on eating the nuts, and then said—
“Where are you going?”
Then the sailor told how the Queen had been rude to a bird, who had in return destroyed her hair.
“I know; that was me,” said the bird, with a chuckle. “Give me some more nuts.”
Rupert again handed the bird the nuts, and then went on relating how the Queen had had a strange dream of a wonderful Hair Tree, and how the King had offered a reward to anyone who could find it; so he was going to look for it.
“You will search a long time for the Hair Tree, I expect,” said the bird, still munching. “If the Queen waits for her hair till it is found, she will have to do without it nearly all her life. I suppose she’ll wish now that she had been civil.” But as he finished speaking, the bird’s glance fell on the golden nuts lying on the seat, and with a shrill cry he flew at them; but Rupert had seized them first and held them firmly out of his reach.
“What are these?” gasped the bird. “Where did you get them? Tell me at once.”
“They came,” said Rupert, still holding the bag tightly, “from the single pod of a tree that has no leaves, and whose branches look like brass, and that grows on a little island not far from here.” On hearing this the bird gave a low cry, and crouched down on one side of the boat, where it sat eyeing Rupert and the nuts greedily, and shaking with rage. “Then they are the nuts of the zirbal-tree,” he said at last; “and the pod has broken when I was not there. For two thousand years have I waited for that pod to break, and now it will be two thousand years before it is ripe again, and it is the only zirbal-tree living, and there is nothing on earth like its nuts.”
When Rupert saw the bird crouched in one corner of the seat, with its head lowered and its feathers ruffled, and remembered how much mischief it had done, he felt strongly inclined to seize it and wring its neck, but he restrained himself, and said—
“You had better sit up. I’ve got the nuts, and I mean to keep them; but perhaps, if you’ll answer me one or two questions, I’ll give you one.”
On this the bird drew itself up, and, arranging its ruffled plumage, sat watching Rupert suspiciously.
“You say you’re the bird who charmed away the Queen’s hair. Well, if you’ll tell me how she can grow it again I’ll give you a nut.”
“What!” cried the bird, flapping his wings angrily, “tell you how the Queen can recover her hair? Never—I’d sooner never taste a nut again.”
“Very well,” said Rupert, picking up a golden nut, and holding it temptingly towards the bird. “Only tell me which way I ought to steer to find the country where the Hair Tree grows, and I will give you this.”
The bird sat silent, with his head on one side, watching Rupert for some time, and then with a sudden cry rose into the air and was out of sight almost before he knew it had moved.
At first he felt angry at this, but as it was gone, it was no use thinking about it, and, anyhow, he had learnt that the golden nuts were very valuable, and he thought if it wanted them so much it might perhaps return for them.
He was right. All day and night he drifted about without coming in sight of land, but next morning at sunrise he saw, in the far distance, a dim line, and at the same moment he heard a whirring of wings overhead, and the Eagle flew down and perched on the edge of the boat as before.
Rupert remained quiet, without seeming to notice it, until at last it broke silence with—
“Are you in the same mind as last night? I’ll tell you the way to the Hair Tree country for a zirbal nut.”
The sailor took one out of his pocket, and said—
“Tell me first, then, and you shall have the nut afterwards.”
“That is the country where the Hair Tree grows, in front of you,” said the bird. “Many go to it, but very few return.”
“Why is that?” asked Rupert, as he gave the bird the nut.
“Why?” repeated the bird, seizing it with his bill. “You had better go there and find out. You know now where it is.”
Rupert pondered a little; then he said, “If you will tell me how to find my way safely to the Hair Tree and back, when I pass here again I will give you six whole nuts. And if you refuse I shall take my gun and shoot you.”
The bird gave a scornful laugh. “You couldn’t shoot me,” he said; “you can try if you like. Why, if it were not for the magic fruit in your pocket, you wouldn’t be here now. It is only that which has protected you from my spells. Well, perhaps I will do what you want, and tell you how to find your way to the Hair Tree; only, you must promise faithfully to give me the nuts when you return.”
The sailor promised again, and the bird continued—
“When you reach land you can go on shore at any place—it doesn’t matter where—and walk straight on. You will find that all the animals can speak; but I advise you not to speak to any of them. And, whatever you do, beware of the plants and flowers; for they all have hands and arms, and will try to seize you, and if once they get you nothing can save you—no, not even your magic nuts. You must go on till you come to a high wall, in which is a heavy iron door, over which is written—
‘Only he who knows can enter here,
Yet only he can know, who enters without fear.’
And you must stand before it, and say—
‘I know, I know;
Inside the wind does blow,
Inside the waters flow;
This makes the Hair Tree grow—
I know, I know.’
Then the doors will fly open, and you can pass in. Within grows the Hair Tree. What else you will find there I shall not say. Now, I have kept my part of the agreement; see that you keep yours when you return.”
So saying, the bird flapped his wings once and disappeared.
Rupert looked about, and finding himself very near land, rowed to shore, and stepped from his boat. It seemed to be a pretty sort of country, and at first he did not notice anything unusual. He walked straight on till he came to a row of splendid sunflowers, and stopped in front of them to admire them, when all at once a pair of beautiful white hands and arms were thrust out from the nearest stalk, and grasping him by the shoulders began to pull him, with a strength he could not resist. At once all the other stalks had put out their hands, and were reaching towards him. And from above the large yellow flowers there appeared heads—women’s heads—with beautiful dreamy faces and bright golden hair. In another moment Rupert felt the arms would have crushed him to death, for they were fast tightening their hold, and felt like iron hands.
Suddenly he remembered the jewels in his pockets, and drawing out a brilliant emerald, flashed it before the face of the sunflower in whose arms he was. “Leave me alone,” he cried, “and you shall have this.”
But still the arms bound him with their strong grasp, and gave no sign of loosening their hold. Then Rupert took the jewel and, holding it above his head, said, “If you don’t let me go at once, I will throw it beyond your reach, so that you will never get it.”
For a moment the arms wavered, then they slowly gave way, and Rupert burst from them trembling at the danger from which he had escaped. With haste, and still keeping at arms’ length, he dropped the jewel into the cruel beautiful white hand that was stretched out to receive it. Then he ran as fast as he could from the row of sunflowers and sat down, still panting and trembling, on a large bare stone.
After he had a little recovered himself, he looked about him, and perceived that not only the sunflowers but all the trees had hands and arms, which they were always stretching to try and catch something, and on looking on the ground he saw that even the blades of grass were armed with tiny hands, which they kept stretching into the air.
For amusement he buried his hand in the grass, and in an instant it was clutched by a hundred tiny hands, that pulled it hard. He could easily draw it away, for it was no more than if a number of spiders had seized his hand. He wondered much at this country, where all the plants seemed to be alive and he had seen no trace of man or beast. While he was thinking, a shadow fell across his path, and looking up he saw a large handsome striped tigress standing in front of him looking into his face. He at once put his hand to his gun, and would have shot it if it had not said in a quiet voice—
“Why are you going to shoot me? I shall do you no harm. How did you come here? You are the first man who has been on this island since I came.”
Rupert stared in astonishment at hearing a tigress speak so plainly, and said—
“I came in a little boat. My name is Rupert, and I am come to look for the Hair Tree. Who are you? I never heard a tigress speak before.”
“I am not really a tigress; I am a woman who was turned into a tigress by a wicked fairy. Tell me what you want with the Hair Tree, and how you managed to get here alive, and I will tell you my story.”
So Rupert told the tigress all that had happened to him; how he had set out to find the Hair Tree, and how he had picked up the nuts of the zirbal-tree, and his promise to the yellow bird, and how he had only just escaped from the sunflowers.
She listened quietly; then she said, “You owe your life to the nuts of the zirbal-tree. They are enchanted, and that is why the yellow eagle could not kill you at once, as he would otherwise have done, for he is a most spiteful creature, but the magic nuts saved you from him, as well as from a number of dangers of this island of which you do not know. You are the first living man who has ever entered so far. Now let us sit down, and keep well out of reach of the grasping hands, and I will tell you my story.”
Rupert sat down, and the tigress arranged herself at his feet, and curled her tail beneath her, and began as follows:—
My name was Trevina. I was the youngest of three sisters, and my father was a miller. I was the most beautiful of the three. We lived in a mill on the bank of a river, close by the sea, and my greatest amusement was to search about on the rocks for the strange animals and seaweed I found there.
A little way in the sea was a small island, on which great seabirds collected, but where we never went, as there was nothing to be got there, and it was difficult to climb on it, for it was surrounded by sharp rocks. Nevertheless I often looked at it, and wondered what sort of a place it was, and thought I would try and get to it when I could.
One evening as I was walking along the shore, I noticed that I was followed by a large tortoise, who kept close to me, and looked up into my face beseechingly. I did not think it odd, for there were plenty of tortoises among the rocks, and when they were hungry they often followed us, hoping for food. But when I got home I found the same tortoise in my room, and not liking to send away a creature who kept so close to me, I gave it some bread and milk, and a little bit of matting to sleep on. My sisters laughed at me for my new pet, but nevertheless I took great care of my tortoise, and let it follow me where it liked. After a time, however, its affection for me became quite tiresome. I could not move without its following me closely, and even if I fell asleep and woke I found it sitting watching me. I began to feel provoked with it, and declared that if it continued to be so worrying I would take it and throw it into the sea. Would that I had, alas!
My father owned a boat on the river, and often on hot afternoons I would step into it, and lie there, idly gazing at the sky, and enjoying the rippling motion, and as it was always safely moored to the side I felt no fear of drifting away.
On one unlucky afternoon I went out about sunset, and placed myself comfortably in the cushions at the bottom of the boat, meaning to spend an hour in reading. But I was overcome with the heat, and ere I had been there long fell fast asleep. I slept soundly, and when I awoke I found that it was getting quite dark. Starting up, I saw with terror that the boat was no longer in the river, but had been evidently loosed from its fastenings and had drifted to sea, and was already halfway to the island. I did not know that the tortoise had followed me, but looking on the seat I saw it sitting there, and I felt a positive hatred for it when I saw the self-satisfied leer with which it was regarding me. To my fright and astonishment, it drew near to me, and with a deep bow said—
“Be not astonished, lovely Trevina, and be assured that no harm shall come to you. Know that I am no common tortoise, but am the king of the tortoises, and only for your sake have assumed the shape of a common animal, in order that I might dwell near you. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you, and now intend to make you my wife. When we arrive at the island, where my armies are waiting for me, I shall appear in my proper form. Resistance on your part will be useless. From here no one can hear your cries, and as soon as we reach the island my people will bore a hole in the bottom of the boat and sink it, so your return will be impossible. After a day or two I shall transport you to my own home. I should do so at once, were it not that I fear the jealousy of my mother, who wishes me to marry the snake-princess.”
I scarcely could hear him to the end with patience. Starting up, I tried to seize him in my hands, meaning to throw him into the water, and so rid myself of his impertinence; but the moment I touched him his whole shape began to change, and swell, and he was quickly transformed into the most hideous figure I had ever beheld. It was like a little black man not more than two feet high, and it carried on its back an enormous shell, while its arms’ and legs were exactly like those of an immense tortoise. And its face! I shudder even now when I remember how hideous it was. The great glaring eyes, the huge mouth, the hideous shrivelled skin! I screamed aloud with all my might, hoping my father or sisters might hear, and, turning my face, covered my eyes with my hands, that they might not be annoyed by the sight of the disgusting creature. But all my shrieks were vain, my voice was blown away by the wind, and no answer came from the shore. On seeing my distress my tormentor only laughed.
Gradually the boat sailed to the island, and on looking up I saw that it was covered with tortoises of all sizes, evidently awaiting our arrival. I think I must have fainted. Anyhow, I remember nothing more till I found myself lying on my back in the middle of the island, surrounded by tortoises, and their hideous king leaning tenderly over me. I started up and, bursting through their 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, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Are you not searching for the Hair Tree, and do not the rods with which I am to be beaten grow around it? Dear, kind sailor, you will surely not refuse to pick one and beat me with it.”
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 head and said—
“Whatever you do, don’t let the lip-flowers kiss you. They are sure to ask to. But they won’t really want to kiss. They will only bite a piece out of your cheek; they are terribly greedy.”
The sailor thanked the swan for its advice, and sprang upon the mound. It was covered with plants bearing such flowers as man had never seen before. Some of them were like mouths—soft red lips folded over the whitest rows of shining teeth; and when Rupert struck one of them by chance, they gave a loud angry cry, whilst all the others burst into such weird laughter that he thought it dreadful to hear. But one and all, as he passed by them, swayed their long stalks towards him, and said, “Let me give you a kiss—only one: let me kiss your cheek.” But he minded what the swan had said, and, keeping carefully out of their reach, turned to examine the other flowers. Some were like delicate waxen ears, and these, with their dark green leaves, he did not think at all ugly. But the prettiest of all grew on long slender stalks, and bent like lilies, and their flowers were like human eyes. Big eyes, small eyes, blue eyes, brown eyes, black eyes, hazel eyes, eyes with long black lashes, eyes with scarcely any, eyes with heavy lids—all sorts of eyes, all looking curiously at him. He thought them so pretty that he determined to gather some, and on coming to a very beautiful bright blue eye, he put his hand to the stalk to break it off, but thereupon it wept such floods of tears that the sailor felt sorry for it, and left it glistening on its stem, whereat all the lips burst into a chorus of shrill laughter. But now he was nearing the wonderful Hair Tree, and could think of nothing else. All round it grew a double row of dark green plants, with long stiff leaves, from whose centres grew tall solid silver rods in the place where flowers should be. These rods stood so near together that they made quite a compact railing around the Hair Tree, and it was impossible to get to it without passing through their line.
Drawing close to them, the sailor examined them carefully, to see where they could be gathered, for doubtless these were the rods of which Trevina spoke. They seemed to be fastened into the plants with a sort of hinge, and beneath this Rupert took hold of one to break it off, but no sooner had he begun to pull, than the rod, swinging on its joint, dealt him a smart blow on the face, which made him stagger back, and all the lip flowers laughed again.
“Oh! zirbal nuts,” he cried, taking one from his pocket, “you have helped me before, help me again.” No sooner had he spoken than all the lips cried out, “A nut, a nut—give us a nut!”
Then a beautiful rosy mouth, growing on a very tall stalk, turned to the others and called, “Silence!” and bending towards Rupert said, “Listen; take out your penknife and cut that nut in pieces, and give them to us, and we will bite off some of the silver rods for you, so that you can pass through to the Hair Tree.”
Rupert agreed, and taking out his penknife began to chop up the nut, whilst a number of mouths turned themselves to the silver rods and began to bite their stalks. It was vain for the rods to slash about, they could not hurt the lip-flowers, who went on steadily gnawing till half a dozen rods lay on the ground, leaving a clear path through to the Hair Tree.
Rupert at once gave the pieces of nut to the mouths (which opened greedily to receive them), and walked up to the tree and stood beneath it.
What a wonderful tree it was! The hair rippled down from all its branches, and was of all colours—black outside, and growing lighter and lighter till, quite near the trunk, it was of fine pure gold. Rupert took hold of it and passed it through his fingers. How soft and thick it felt! What would not the court ladies have given for even a tiny branch of it. Then he thought of the Queen’s hair, and turned to look for the seeds.
He found them in little pods growing close to the branches, and at once tried to pull them off. But he found that they grew on hairs so long and thick that he had to take out his knife and cut them, and even then it was a long time before he could gather any quantity. At last he succeeded in picking a handful, and, wrapping them carefully in his handkerchief, placed them in his bosom. When he turned to go, the eye-flowers had all closed, and were evidently fast asleep; the lips, too, were shut and still, and said nothing as he passed them. The black sun was fast sinking, and the black rays had become longer and darker. Rupert walked quickly down to where the yellow swan was waiting, carrying the silver rods with him.
“Make haste,” said the swan; “what a long time you’ve been! It’s getting quite light, and I want to go to sleep.”
“To sleep!” said the sailor, staring. “Why, one goes to sleep when it gets dark, one wakes when it’s light.”
“Does one?” said the swan, scornfully. “That would be very foolish; where would be the use of going to sleep, and shutting one’s eyes in the dark? The dark never hurts anyone’s eyes. Of course one shuts one’s eyes when it’s too light, and it would hurt one to keep them open.”
Rupert was silent, not knowing what to say, and the swan swam with him quickly across the water.
“Now,” he said, as he landed him on the other side, “give me my nut, and take my advice, go away as quickly as you can. It’s getting so light that soon you won’t be able to see anything for the glare.”
Rupert obeyed, and turned at once to go back, for a dull glaring light was beginning to spread everywhere as the black sun sank, and no sooner had it disappeared than the light became so intense that he could scarcely see, and had to shade his eyes with his hands as he felt his way to the door in the wall. This time no speech on his part was necessary, for it stood wide open, though it shut with a loud bang as soon as he had passed through it. He walked as quickly as he could down the long dark passage, and out into the broad daylight again, and there he sat down to think over all the strange things he had seen. He would have believed it all a dream, but for the seeds in his bosom and the rods at his side. And there, just as he had left them, were the long rows of sunflowers with the beautiful faces looking over their tops, and the white arms and hands stretching out from their sides; and then, after a few minutes, he saw the tigress coming towards him, walking very slowly, as if she had scarcely strength to move, and looking very thin.
“At last you are come,” she cried, when she saw him; “how long I have waited for you!”
“Long!” said Rupert, staring with surprise; “why, I have not been gone many hours.”
“Hours!” said the tigress, feebly; “why, you have been gone six months.”
“Six months!” cried Rupert, “and it has seemed to me like two hours.”
“But you have returned, and have brought the rod with you,” she said, joyfully. “So now all is right. But I am very hungry, for I have not been able to find any grass or herbs for a week. So now make haste and beat me at once.”
“Beat you, you poor starved creature!” cried the sailor, looking pityingly at her; “beat a poor thing who has scarcely strength to crawl! I wouldn’t do such a thing for the world!”
“Beat me—beat me, I tell you,” called the tigress, writhing on the ground in front of him. “Beat me at once, or it will be the worse for both of us.” Then she added, in a terrible voice, “Did I not tell you I was very hungry? Beat me at once, or I shall eat you!”
On hearing this, Rupert made no more ado, but, seizing the silver rod, began to thrash the tigress with all his might. She stood quite still to receive his blows, only every now and then urging him on by calling—
“Harder! Beat harder!”
Rupert obeyed, and continued to beat till he saw that she was bleeding, and then, just as he was going to fling aside the rod and declare he would beat no longer, her skin began to shrivel, and at last fell to the ground, and there arose from it the loveliest maiden Rupert had ever beheld. Her hair, of burning gold, was worthy of the Hair Tree itself, whilst her shining blue eyes and rosy lips were far more beautiful than the strange flowers that grew about it.
Rupert stood still staring at her in wonder, but she at once put out her hand and said, “How can I thank you enough for what you have done for me? I am Trevina. Now let us hurry away from this dreadful place as fast as we can, but first give me a nut to protect me from spells.”
Rupert at once gave her one, and as she fastened it into the bosom of her dress, she turned to him and asked with a smile, “Am I like what you expected?”
“You are far, far more beautiful,” answered he; “is it really possible that you were that tigress?”
“I was indeed that tigress,” said Trevina, as they began to walk quickly to the shore; “and should most likely have remained so but for you. As it is, I shall not feel comfortable till we are off this dreadful island; although the zirbal nuts are the best protection we could have.”
“Now, indeed, am I thankful that the Queen lost her hair,” cried Rupert, “since it has helped me to set you free, lovely Trevina.”
They soon found the little boat, and getting into it sailed away as fast as they could.
After a little time Rupert remembered the bird and his promise, and said to Trevina that he supposed they should soon see him coming for his nuts.
“You have just eight nuts left, and you have promised the eagle six,” said Trevina. “By all means give him the six you promised him, but let me entreat you to keep the remaining two. One I have here, and be sure you do not let him have the other. Remember that the moment you have parted from it, he will have as much power over you as he had over the poor Queen. He will beg you for it, but he must not have it.”
Rupert promised, and in a very short time they saw the eagle flying towards them. He flew round them in circles, and at last alighted on the prow of the boat.
“Well,” he said, fiercely, looking towards Rupert, “I see you have the seeds. Now where are my nuts?”
“Here they are,” said he, taking six from his pocket, and giving them to him. He took them in his claws and hid them in his feathers, but still he did not go.
“You have yet got one more,” he said; “what are you going to do with it? You do not eat zirbal nuts.”
“I mean to keep it as a curiosity,” answered the sailor.
“But what use will that be?” croaked the bird; “will you not give it to me?”
“No, I can’t do that,” said Rupert; “you must be content with what you’ve got.”
“In my nest at home,” said the eagle, “I have seven little eaglets, and you have only given me six nuts to take to them. Will you not give me your other nut to take to my youngest little eaglet?”
On hearing this the sailor fingered the nut in his pocket and looked at the bird, and was just going to give it to him, when Trevina laid her hand on his arm to stop him, and turning to the eagle said—
“It is no use your asking for the nut, for he will not give it to you. I know quite well that you have no little eaglets at home, that it is all false, and that you only say it to get the nut from him.”
Then the eagle turned, and, giving one fearful shriek, rose into the air and flew away, and Rupert and Trevina never saw him more.
A whole year had passed away since the Queen had dreamt the strange dream, and still her head was bald; and no one could tell how to make the hair grow again. Men had sought far and wide. The King had sent messengers to every part of the world. All sorts of strange plants had been brought and stranger remedies suggested. But it was quite evident that no one had found the real Hair Tree.
The Queen had been ill for months, and now scarcely ever appeared in public. At last, when she had quite made up her mind that she would never recover her hair, she sent for the King, and told him that she was seriously thinking of shutting herself up for the rest of her life, and would only consent again to appear on the condition that he should order that all the women in the land should have their heads shaved and wear caps just like hers. The King, in great consternation, begged her to reconsider her decision, but she was firm, and as he could not bear the thought of parting with her, he at last consented to publish a proclamation ordering that all the women in the country, from the greatest duchess to the poorest beggar, were to have their heads shaved, in order that the Queen might not be annoyed by the sight of their hair.
Great was the anger and discontent with which this order was received, but the people dared not disobey the King, so after a great deal of grumbling they agreed to submit in silence, and a day was settled on which the shaving was to take place, for the Queen wished it to be performed in public.
At her suggestion the King had an immense scaffold put up in the marketplace, and on it the court barber was to stand, whilst all the women, from the highest to the lowest, came before him in turn and had their heads shaved quite close. State seats were erected on one side, on which the King and Queen and court would sit to watch the shaving.
When all this was settled, the Queen grew as cheerful as possible. She said it was almost as good as having her own hair back again.
The different messengers whom the King had sent in search of the Hair Tree still kept returning, each one bringing with him some strange new plant, but nothing that could do the Queen any good; and thus the time passed till the shaving day came.
All the streets were hung with black, and the chair in which the ladies were to sit to be shaved was hung with black also.
Early in the morning a great crowd had assembled, and then the King and Queen came down and took seats, and the shaving was to begin.
The crier took out his list of the ladies’ names, and called out the first, which was that of a duchess who was quite young and very beautiful. She rose slowly from her seat, sobbing bitterly, and walked towards the black chair.
She was dressed in a long black serge dress, without any ornament, but her beautiful white neck and arms were bare, and over her shoulders to her waist rippled her bright soft brown hair. She looked so young and so miserable that there was a general groan at the idea that all her lovely locks must fall.
With a last sob, the duchess took her seat in the dreadful chair, and, closing her eyes, resigned herself to her fate. The barber sharpened his razor, and was just going to begin, whilst all held their breath from excitement, when a voice was heard crying “Stop!” And in a minute all saw a sailor rushing towards the scaffold, panting and out of breath, but holding out something in his right hand.
“Stop!” he shouted, as loudly as he could, directly he found breath to speak. “I have got it the hair seeds from the real Hair Tree!”
On hearing this the barber flung away his razor, and the Queen screamed outright.
The courtiers and the King danced a jig for joy, whilst the duchess who was to have been shaved, threw her arms round the sailor’s neck, and kissed him at once.
“Only try” cried Rupert, eagerly, “before you shave them; they came from the Hair Tree. I picked them myself.”
On hearing this, the Queen, unable to contain her impatience any longer, dashed through the crowd, and pushing the duchess on one side. Sprang into the black chair herself.
“There is no time like the present” she cried pulling off her muslin cap, and flinging it to the ground, quite heedless of showing her bare shining head to the crowd. “Put some on yourself, dear sailor, and let us see how they do.”
A thrill of excitement ran through the crowd, whilst, amidst a dead silence, Rupert opened the packet, and carefully and slowly sprinkled the seeds over the Queen’s bent head. In a moment a soft fine down began to appear all over it, growing thicker and darker every moment, till it was curly hair, which grew longer and longer as they watched it.
“How does it do?” gasped the Queen. “My head feels very queer. Is it growing?” But she had little need to ask the question, for no sooner were the words out of her mouth than the soft curly locks, of her own old colour, fell over her shoulders, and grew till they reached her feet. At sight of them she shrieked with joy, and fainted, whilst the King and courtiers and all the crowd shouted and hurrahed as if they had gone mad.
That night the city was illuminated, and there was a great ball at the palace, and next day the King and Queen and all the court went to witness the wedding of Rupert and Trevina, after which the King presented Rupert with the reward.
One of his remaining nuts Rupert gave to the King to hang over the palace door, and defend them from all charms of bad fairies; but the other he and Trevina always kept, which is perhaps the reason they lived so happily together all the rest of their lives.