These episodes occurred during a week's vacation in
which Henry and his little friend, Eleanor, roamed daily in the colorful
semitropical veldt or hill country in sunny South Africa.
Henry was a constant visitor to the citrus ranch, Eleanor's home,
which formed part of a huge estate covering many thousands of acres of grass
land, foothills, and mountains. He loved all the creatures who lived there,
and roamed with them freely among the beloved streams and hills. He felt that
all these varied expressions of creation were a part of his own being. The
silence of the limitless veldt was life to his soul. He was keenly alive to
the throbbing, pulsating heartbeat of nature, to the wonder of the azure sky
and of the golden Sun. Roaming here with the beauty of the veldt before him,
he was happy and in harmony with all things.
With Eleanor he roamed the great out-of-doors. Often they spoke of
fairies, elves, gnomes, naiads, and satyrs. Sometimes they thought they saw
shadowy forms among the trees or near the shaded pools. And now a joyous
experience was about to be theirs - a week of intimate proximity to the
elusive Spirits of Nature, made visible through the wonder working power of
their love for all created things.
Episode 1
In the heart of South Africa lies Zimbabwe, a pleasant upland country,
the home of the native Mashona and Matabele, and the home of many white
settlers as well. Favored with a genial climate, this fertile land attracts
many who love the sunshine, the ocean of open spaces, and a free life. Here on
the wide veldt, silence reigns at noontide, and the Sun floods the Earth with
its glorious light the year round.
In a wide and spacious valley, through which ran a river carved deep
in the fertile earth, lay the avenue of these happenings. The ranch was set
out on gentle sloping ground; rows and rows of citrus trees, protected by tall
eucalyptus or wattle, shone green and golden laden with luscious fruit. Broad
roads intersected the groves and the silvery irrigation furrows. Here and
there were dotted the red-roofed homes of those who cared for the trees and
superintended the work from blossom time to harvest.
Overlooking the scene, upon a knoll which was part of a rampart of
protecting hills, was the manager's spacious home. In the grounds was a
rondavel (round hut) which was set apart for the accommodation of visitors.
Very cool and comfortable was this cabin, set among the trees and flowers.
Henry, a poet and Nature lover, came over to the ranch from a little
town nestling under the friendly hills. Sometimes he rode his pony or walked
the twelve miles across the veldt. He knew the furry animals who range the
plains, those who live underground and in the trees, the monkeys and baboons,
the flashing snakes and lizards, the antelope and wild leopards. The ways of
the natives were familiar to him. En route to his friend's home he greeted a
naked herd boy who sat under a shady bush playing upon a flute, whiling away
the hours till sundown, when he must drive the cattle home.
Eleanor was a little girl, joyous and carefree, at home among the hills
and dales. She, too, loved Nature, talked to the bees and the gorgeous
butterflies, and knew the names of all the birds, flowers, and insects. She
loved to roam through the citrus groves and down to the river, up the ravines,
and upon the rocky hills where dwelt the rabbits and the little brown monkeys.
It was the first day of a holiday week. Overhead the sky shone blue, and
the Sun gleamed like a disk of molten gold. Away went Eleanor and Henry, with
Pat, the Irish terrier, along the cattle road, pushing open the big gate which
swung shut behind them. The track wound through bushes covered with lovely
crimson flowers, past mimosa trees fragrant with white and yellow pompons,
thorn trees resplendent in their new garments of soft green leaves, and the
violet trees festooned with purple blossoms. Here and there big umbrella
trees, flat topped and solid, stood like patient sentinels guarding the
denizens of the prairie. Soon the track grew fainter as it led over boulders
and lichen-covered stones.
Stooping, Eleanor and Henry went through an arched bush of white jasmine
with its thorns trying to catch them as they passed. Below them tumbled a
sparkling stream flashing in the sunlight. The air was resonant with the sound
of insect wings, and deep in a tiny sunless cavern sat a bullfrog that
monotonously intoned, "Kraak-kraak-kraak." Birds chattered gaily and a hawk
soared high in the cloudless sky. Here the two rested, quietly receptive,
attuned to the peace of this beautiful sylvan glade, for they knew the value
of perfect stillness in the veldt. To see the dwellers in the bushes one must
be able to keep as silent as the speckled kingfisher who sits aloft and
watches the pool, alert yet motionless. Pat, the dog, slept soundly.
Suddenly Eleanor whispered to her companion: "Look across the stream!
There are many little forms moving among the grass and up in the bushes.
What are they?"
Henry looked across the dancing stream into the forest of trees and
brush, rocks, and grasses intermingled. There before his very eyes he saw that
which he could hardly believe. Flitting from flower to flower and perching
upon the tips of leaves were tiny figures from two to six inches high.
"Fairies?" He whispered the word, hoping not to frighten away those soft
and shadowy creatures. Yes, they were real fairies, the dearest little beings,
joyful, gracious little folk drifting slowly on wings of opalescent splendor.
They sprang from leaf to leaf, from flower to flower, climbed up the tall fern
fronds, played hide and seek among the stalks of the wild irises, and settled
upon the broad leaves of the water lilies. Some were opalescent, others
delicate rose color, light blue, yellow, and every conceivable hue, shining
like the petals of flowing flowers. Dainty as the thistledown, lithe as cloud
wisps, these happy faced fairies wreathed in and out among the bushes. A
myriad of flower-like creatures, they passed like a sun-lit cloud toward the
mystic shadow land among the trees.
Eleanor and Henry were filled with delight. Slowly they followed their
little visitors and found them friendly and unafraid. Some rode upon dragon
flies and bees, and the flowers nodded to them as they passed. Through all
that glen there was a hushed and quiet atmosphere of rejoicing. Gradually the
bevy of floating fairy forms moved into the dense forest bush and like a swarm
of bees scattered far and wide, finally disappearing from view.
Eleanor looked up at Henry, her eyes still wide with happy wonder, "Oh,
I knew I should see them sometime. Often I felt that they were near, and I was
right. Now I have seen them, and I am happy."
Episode 2
The next morning proved gloriously radiant. Indeed, spring was there in
all its tender unfoldment of beauty. During the night a gentle shower had
fallen, and the rising Sun gleamed in the globules of rain which hung like
luminous pearls from leaf and flower. The fresh, crisp air was odorous with
the resinous scent of the pines. The gentle zephyrs played among the treetops
and around the bushes, causing the flowers to dance a stately minuet to the
swish of the feathery bamboo. Serene and brilliant was this morning, the
beginning of another day.
Eleanor and Henry strolled upward toward the hills. Quietly they made
their way. Nothing escaped their notice and every sight and sound gave
pleasure. Their path skirted the hill, where huge monoliths stood gaunt and
bare on the hillside. Old and gnarled trees showed signs of conflict with the
elements. Silent and strong, they sheltered birds and bees and gave their
shade to all who sought it. Young saplings shot upward into the vernal air.
Bushes and creepers made a tangled mass of undergrowth, restfully green. Every
step revealed some fresh beauty, some new vistas through the trees, and many a
scurry told of a decamping dweller of the wild frightened by the soft
measured tread of unknown feet.
Soon a touch from Eleanor drew the attention of Henry. "Look!" she
whispered, "Oh! Look!" At her right hand, poised on the bushes near her face,
were three of the loveliest fairies. Lightly one glided upon her arm, another
into her lap, another upon her shoulder. Gradually these beautiful forms came
flitting from every direction — tiny, colorful creatures clad in garments
which resembled the most delicate flower petals. All were feminine in form,
with tiny, dainty faces, some pale, others olive color, some ruddy, some
amber. All were slim and delicately proportioned, exquisite in every way, of
every known color and shade except dark purple, brown, and black. Some were
opalescent and multi-colored, others light blue, light yellow, white, green,
pink, silver, and gold. Still others shone like pearls, and their wings of
iridescent radiance flashed like sun-lit jewels among the grass. Their hair
was delicately curled, and upon their feet were tiny sandals kept in place by
crossed straps. Some had no foot-gear. Most of them wore hats made of bell-like
flowers. All had wings which folded closely behind them.
They appeared to glide, to float, to hover like humming birds, and to
move in any chosen direction. At first they seemed imbued with shyness, but
after advancing and receding, then approaching again, they finally became very
friendly. When Eleanor and Henry moved, or gently roamed about, the fairies
were not frightened, but at any loud noise they quickly turned to the bushes
and disappeared. Many soared high up into the trees. They appeared to touch
every flower and to delve among the grass and ferns. It was quite evident that
they were on no idle gambol for it was noticed that they busily and gently
gave attention to everything that grew. They searched the bushes thoroughly
and visited them much as bees visit the flowers, and it was apparent that they
were doing some specific work. Eleanor said those that lighted upon her were
delicately scented. They were not afraid of Pat who wagged his tail and moved
among them as though he, too, might have been aware of their presence.
Now the Sun began to glint through the tops of the trees, casting long
shadows aslant the glade. The approach of cattle from the higher ground was
heralded by the sound of cracking timbers. The herd boys were collecting
sticks for their fires. Gradually the fairy forms receded into the thick bush
until, of the myriads Eleanor and Henry had seen, not one remained. They
rejoiced in the delightful experience the day had brought them and with it the
conviction that fairy hosts were everywhere.
Episode 3
After breakfast on the following morning, Eleanor and Henry, with Pat,
and Wasp, a little sharp-nosed terrier, started for an excursion to the
adjoining ranch which was also a part of the estate.
The kindly Dutch manager and his wife welcomed the holiday-makers. They
enjoyed a lunch which was set out for them in the cool, thatched dining room
overlooking the placid mountains. The bright Sun, high up in the heavens, beat
upon the Earth, the breezes whispered in the tall wattle trees in the
stillness peculiar to all tropical countries at noontide, the herds slept, and
the ploughmen nodded under friendly trees. All Nature seemed to slumber.
Henry and Eleanor, with Pat and Wasp, went into the hills. Climbing
steadily upward among gnarled and knotted trees, they suddenly came upon a
semicircular space, a broad, miniature plain backed by a huge mass of rock.
Henry saw the first fairy to appear. It seemed to come from nowhere - a
dainty, ruby-colored sprite, poised upon the tip of a blade of grass.
Gradually the whole place was alive with a fairy throng. They approached
Eleanor and seemed glad to be near her, thousands of them, flitting and
soaring in mid air, perching upon leaves and blossoms, emerging from the
matted grasses and mossy undergrowth. The air was filled with an exquisite
fragrance and was vibrant with joyous life. For the first time Eleanor and
Henry realized that the fairies worked in groups, each group consisting of a
bevy of tiny creatures in different colors. They all appeared intent upon a
definite task, yet they worked with no great hurry or bustle. It seemed as if
they touched or ministered in some way to all the leaves and flowers and were
careful not to miss a single one. They appeared to be very happy and played
with each other. Several of them alighted on Eleanor and flitted from her head
to her shoulder and about her person unafraid. If she moved perceptibly they
disappeared, only to reappear when the movement stopped. With great joy
Eleanor and Henry watched this lovely army march across the sunlit plain.
Sparkling, iridescent, rainbow-hued, clad in delicately textured diaphanous
robes of cobweb weight, exquisite in form and sweetly gracious in countenance,
these wonderful and gentle fairy hosts ranged the hills sweeping onward until
lost to sight.
That evening under the Moon, another wonderful sight presented itself to
Eleanor and Henry. After dinner they slipped away into the garden. After
strolling for a while they came to the rondavel set so pleasantly among the
tall eucalypti. Beside the porch was a comfortable bench. It was a glorious
night. The Moon shone bright and clear. From the waxy, white petals of the
moon flower came an exotic fragrance. The stillness of the mystic African
night surrounded them, a stillness made more apparent by intermittent sounds,
the shrill voices of insects, and the monotonous beat of tom-toms in the
native village. Sometimes, wind borne, would come the sound of the cadence of
a native song. Yet, interpenetrating all was the intense silence.
Quietly discussing the events of the day, Eleanor and Henry were about
to retire when Eleanor said: "Look under the euphobia! There is something
moving. It is not an animal because it is upright. Oh! It is a brownie!"
And there it was! Two more appeared, then many of them were seen moving
under the leaves in the violet bed; soon the whole garden seemed alive. Before
the delighted eyes of Eleanor and Henry a little brown fellow just like the
brownies of fiction strolled into the moonlit open space before the rondavel.
Then two more joined him. Apparently they were intent on examining the grass
and stirring around the leaves of the various plants. They were about five or
six inches high. One wore a cap, another was bareheaded. Their wings were
large and old looking; they had wizened faces, full bodies, very long arms and
short legs. Some wore little moccasin-like shoes, others wore none. The
brownies were not afraid of our two friends and came right up to the bench on
which they were sitting. All around, deep in the shadows, they could be seen,
bent upon some task among the leaves of the plants. These solemn little
creatures stopped their work at times and communicated with one another.
Eleanor wanted to stay out and watch them, but hours on the estate were early.
The dew was heavy and so she said good-night and hurried in. Henry continued
to watch the little brown men as they moved noiselessly among the leaves. A
hare hopped out and sat silent for a moment then went its way. An owl hooted
from a nearby tree. All through the shadowy foliage on the ground the little
brownies moved. Henry tried to see exactly what they were about but could not
discern the nature of the work they were doing. Tired by the day's exertion,
he returned to the hut and was soon asleep.
Suddenly Henry awoke and looked at his watch. It was three o'clock.
Putting on a thick wrap he stepped out of the rondavel. Here a novel sight met
his eyes - drawn up in rows of three were many companies of brownies. They
seemed to be quite at home in the garden and Henry surmised that they worked
continuously in a given area. One fact he noticed; solid objects like tree
trunks, walls, and rocks offered no obstacle to these little brown men as they
walked right through them.
Suddenly they began to march away, three by three. Evidently their work
was over for the night. Their movements seemed orderly as they silently
slipped away and disappeared among the deep shadows.
Re-entering the rondavel, Henry was soon sound asleep, despite the
extraordinary happenings he had witnessed.
Episode 4
Thursday afternoon Eleanor and Henry betook themselves to a far away
corner of the estate. It was a favorite area of theirs because of a broad,
grassy stretch of plain, or prairie land, on which they always saw antelope
peacefully grazing. The grass was always green in this particular pasture
because of water filtering out from a kloof, or wooded gully in the hills.
There was no visible stream in this lovely, tree-clad fissure in the hills,
but evidences showing that water flowed underground, and splitting up at the
base of the hills, spread across the land that gently sloped toward the river.
Adjoining the valley was a dense forest, almost dark by reason of myriads
of trees festooned with creepers, lianas, mosses, orchids, and various kinds
of parasites. Entering the forest by a Kaffir path, narrow and winding, they
slowly proceeded toward the west. Here a peculiar silence reigned except for
the rustle of a bird in a tree, the crash of an animal running through the
brush, the tap, tap of a woodpecker, the hum of bees and winged insects. It
was indeed a maze, a primeval forest.
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