CHAPTER XXVIII
THE MOUNTAIN OF REALITY

The next day the giant, standing out on the rampart where every one could see and hear him, was shouting—"The world is full of evil! The world is full of evil!" And his friends thought sadly of that day, now only a little while ago, when it had been his wont to say that the world was full of good—that, indeed, everything was good if you looked at it in the right way. But suddenly he stopped shouting and lifted his head.

It was the first time he had been seen to lift his head in a number of days, and it seemed very good to see him do this. He seemed to be listening intently, and also with a certain faint, dawning hope.

At the very same time Everychild lifted his head also and listened, but as he did so he clasped his hands with dread.

And also Prince Arthur and Cinderella and Hansel and Grettel and the other children lifted their heads and listened.

They had all heard some one playing on a pipe; and the sound, though distant, was very mysterious. It drifted up from the forest road. The notes continued to be heard, one by one, in the same strange, fascinating way.

It was the giant who first began to move in the direction of the sound of the pipe. He did this at first as though reluctantly; but as he continued on his way he began to walk more alertly, and presently he seemed very eager.

And then Everychild found it impossible to withstand that sound and he too moved away in the direction from which the notes of the pipe came. And the Sleeping Beauty, with a dreamy smile on her lips, walked with him; and Cinderella followed a few steps behind. And then the others, one by one, fell into line: Hansel and Grettel, the sons and daughters of the Old Woman who lived in the shoe, Prince Arthur, Little Bo-Peep, Little Boy Blue, and last of all, Tom Hubbard and the little black dog.

They all marched down the mountain road, away from the castle; and presently they began to catch glimpses of a figure in the distance, moving on before them elusively, and leaving behind a trail of enchanting notes.

They turned into the Road of Troubled Children, and far away they marched. Far away they marched, but the figure on ahead still eluded them—save that they heard the notes of the pipe clearer and more sweet and strange.

But at last the figure that led the way could be seen more clearly, and Everychild murmured to himself; "It is the Pied Piper!" And when this thought had occurred to him he could scarcely repress his excitement.

The figure in the road before them had now halted, though the dulcet notes went on and on. It was a truly fascinating person, to say the least—with a quaint costume, including a funny cap. But presently Everychild, coming closer to the piper, drew in his breath shortly.

The player on the pipes was the Masked Lady! She might have been thought to be dreaming as she lifted and lowered her beautiful fingers where the openings in the pipe were and went on playing. Occasionally she glanced back to make sure that the children were all there.

And then something very strange occurred. The ranks of children were augmented by other children. Along the road they came dreamily and took their places in the procession. They were Little Red Riding-Hood and the Babes in the Wood (the latter brushing withered leaves from their garments) and other children whose stories are known to be sad ones. And there was Aladdin again!—carrying his lamp, and smiling a little mischievously.

Then the Masked Lady, in the guise of the Pied Piper, resumed her march, facing straight ahead, and moving with grace and majesty. And the entire procession began to move.

The children scarcely gave a thought to where they were going. Nor did they give a thought to going back. They were moved by a power which they did not understand to keep step with the music of the pipe.

On and on they marched—on and on. They passed through silent forests and across beautiful plains, up gentle hills and through sheltered fells. And the melody of the piper became so strongly accented that they could not help keeping step, even if they had wished not to do so.

At last, however, they came to where there was a great dark mountain ahead; and Everychild thought to himself, "Now we shall have to turn back, since it would be too much for us to ascend that high mountain."

But the Masked Lady continued to march straight toward that dark mountain—which was, as she well knew, the fearful Mountain of Reality.

The other children all beheld the mountain and they looked at one another with questioning eyes, as if each were asking the other, "Do you not consider it a terrible mountain?" Still, they never ceased to keep step with the music.

They could see the mountain clearly now. It was cold and bleak and rose into the mists of the sky. There were great chasms in its sides, and precipitous heights and walls which it would have seemed impossible to scale. It seemed of a frightful hardness, too.

Most terrible of all, wild hunters were to be seen all the way up to the summit, and terrible beasts; and also one could catch a glimpse of solitary individuals who were climbing to the highest visible points, and some of these were falling back and hurting themselves terribly.

"We cannot advance another step," thought Everychild; for now they were indeed at the very base of the mountain.

And then a miracle occurred, just when it seemed that the Masked Lady would be compelled to turn back.

The mountain opened! There was a cavity as large as an immense archway. Through this the Masked Lady advanced; and then the entire band of children marched straight into the heart of the mountain.

Everychild, looking back, perceived that the mountain had closed again after the last child had entered, so that they were now all prisoners!

That was indeed a dreadful moment; for the heart of the Mountain of Reality was a great gloomy cavern in which everything seemed quite terrible. Nor would there have seemed any way of escaping from the place. The light was but dim, so that objects were only obscurely revealed. But it could be seen that the top of the cavern was very high, while the walls were steep and formidable.

A weird sound arose. The high walls echoed it, the dark ceiling flung it back. It went trembling into far places and returned, shattered yet with its weird quality unabated.

It was the children weeping!

It seemed their hearts would break, because of the dreary place into which they had been brought. And during this time the Masked Lady only stood and looked upon the children silently.

Everychild could scarcely believe his own eyes, and he began a more careful examination of the cavern.

He came upon water in half-hidden pools. "But," he reflected, "we could not drink of this water if we were thirsty. It is quite black."

He examined the paths which led from one place to another. "We could not walk in these paths," he mused, "because they are too rough."

He examined the natural stairways which led to the upper chambers of the cavern. "But we could not climb those stairways," he decided, "since they are too steep."

He came upon beds which had been spread for himself and his companions. "We could not sleep in these," was his conclusion, "because they are too hard."

And as he continued his examination he became aware that he was standing close to Will o'Dreams; and something in his friend's manner caused him to pause and observe him more closely.

Because of the fulness of his heart he put forth a hand and touched his friend's arm. The arm trembled. And then the sad truth became known. The scenes he had been called upon to witness here in the cavern had been too much for Will o'Dreams. He had been stricken with blindness!

It did not seem strange to Everychild that he should wish to run immediately and tell the Masked Lady of what had befallen the giant. Surely he must have felt a certain confidence in her, after all!

But when she had been informed of the giant's plight she only said, "Let us be patient."

And then she began to speak to all the children, calling their attention to this matter or that. "Do not be afraid to drink of the water," she said. "It seems black. That is only because it is deep."

And drinking of the water, they found it to be sweet and refreshing.

"Do not hold back from wandering in the paths," she added. "Your feet will take them easily."

And wandering in the paths they found that they were not so rough as they had imagined them.

"Do not falter if you wish to climb the stairways," she continued. "Only try them."

And they tried them, and found that their limbs responded joyously to the effort they were putting forth.

"Do not shrink from sleeping in the beds which have been provided," she said at last. "They may surprise you."

And lying down in the beds which had seemed so uninviting, the children were wooed to slumber. They were really comfortable beds, after all!

Strangest of all was the fact that Will o'Dreams went about with the other children, guided by the sound of their voices, and by an occasional touch of Everychild's hand; and one after another he tested the pool and the paths and the stairs and the beds.

"Ah, how good it is to have them!" he said at last with a great sigh; and soon after he had sunk into deep and refreshing slumber.

Nor were the others long in following his example. They had traveled far; and it seemed good to rest now, especially as they believed they might look forward to happy and wonderful experiences on the morrow. uWXX6i0MrQBrnwgoHxksaB9mr5QsQcscuJyaIbCz839F5vdVlfCCrIGH0ZR3rrFY