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There was once a king's son who had a larger and more beautiful
collection of books than any one else in the world, and full of
splendid copper-plate engravings. He could read and obtain
information respecting every people of every land; but not a word
could he find to explain the situation of the garden of paradise,
and this was just what he most wished to know. His grandmother had
told him when he was quite a little boy, just old enough to go to
school, that each flower in the garden of paradise was a sweet cake,
that the pistils were full of rich wine, that on one flower history
was written, on another geography or tables; so those who wished to
learn their lessons had only to eat some of the cakes, and the more
they ate, the more history, geography, or tables they knew. He
believed it all then; but as he grew older, and learnt more and
more, he became wise enough to understand that the splendor of the
garden of paradise must be very different to all this. "Oh, why did
Eve pluck the fruit from the tree of knowledge? why did Adam eat the
forbidden fruit?" thought the king's son: "if I had been there it
would never have happened, and there would have been no sin in the
world." The garden of paradise occupied all his thoughts till he
reached his seventeenth year.
One day he was walking alone in the wood, which was his greatest
pleasure, when evening came on. The clouds gathered, and the rain
poured down as if the sky had been a waterspout; and it was as dark
as the bottom of a well at midnight; sometimes he slipped over the
smooth grass, or fell over stones that projected out of the rocky
ground. Every thing was dripping with moisture, and the poor prince
had not a dry thread about him. He was obliged at last to climb over
great blocks of stone, with water spurting from the thick moss. He
began to feel quite faint, when he heard a most singular rushing
noise, and saw before him a large cave, from which came a blaze of
light. In the middle of the cave an immense fire was burning, and a
noble stag, with its branching horns, was placed on a spit between
the trunks of two pine-trees. It was turning slowly before the fire,
and an elderly woman, as large and strong as if she had been a man
in disguise, sat by, throwing one piece of wood after another into
the flames.
"Come in," she said to the prince; "sit down by the fire and dry
yourself."
"There is a great draught here," said the prince, as he seated
himself on the ground.
"It will be worse when my sons come home," replied the woman; "you
are now in the cavern of the Winds, and my sons are the four Winds
of heaven: can you understand that?"
"Where are your sons?" asked the prince.
"It is difficult to answer stupid questions," said the woman. "My
sons have plenty of business on hand; they are playing at
shuttlecock with the clouds up yonder in the king's hall," and she
pointed upwards.
"Oh, indeed," said the prince; "but you speak more roughly and
harshly and are not so gentle as the women I am used to."
"Yes, that is because they have nothing else to do; but I am obliged
to be harsh, to keep my boys in order, and I can do it, although
they are so head-strong. Do you see those four sacks hanging on the
wall? Well, they are just as much afraid of those sacks, as you used
to be of the rat behind the looking-glass. I can bend the boys
together, and put them in the sacks without any resistance on their
parts, I can tell you. There they stay, and dare not attempt to come
out until I allow them to do so. And here comes one of them."
It was the North Wind who came in, bringing with him a cold,
piercing blast; large hailstones rattled on the floor, and
snowflakes were scattered around in all directions. He wore a
bearskin dress and cloak. His sealskin cap was drawn over his ears,
long icicles hung from his beard, and one hailstone after another
rolled from the collar of his jacket.
"Don't go too near the fire," said the prince, "or your hands and
face will be frost-bitten."
"Frost-bitten!" said the North Wind, with a loud laugh; "why frost
is my greatest delight. What sort of a little snip are you, and how
did you find your way to the cavern of the Winds?"
"He is my guest," said the old woman, "and if you are not satisfied
with that explanation you can go into the sack. Do you understand
me?"
That settled the matter. So the North Wind began to relate his
adventures, whence he came, and where he had been for a whole month.
"I come from the polar seas," he said; "I have been on the Bear's
Island with the Russian walrus-hunters. I sat and slept at the helm
of their ship, as they sailed away from North Cape. Sometimes when I
woke, the storm-birds would fly about my legs. They are curious
birds; they give one flap with their wings, and then on their
outstretched pinions soar far away.
"Don't make such a long story of it," said the mother of the winds;
"what sort of a place is Bear's Island?"
"A very beautiful place, with a floor for dancing as smooth and flat
as a plate. Half-melted snow, partly covered with moss, sharp
stones, and skeletons of walruses and polar-bears, lie all about,
their gigantic limbs in a state of green decay. It would seem as if
the sun never shone there. I blew gently, to clear away the mist,
and then I saw a little hut, which had been built from the wood of a
wreck, and was covered with the skins of the walrus, the fleshy side
outwards; it looked green and red, and on the roof sat a growling
bear. Then I went to the sea shore, to look after birds' nests, and
saw the unfledged nestlings opening their mouths and screaming for
food. I blew into the thousand little throats, and quickly stopped
their screaming. Farther on were the walruses with pig's heads, and
teeth a yard long, rolling about like great worms.
"You relate your adventures very well, my son," said the mother, "it
makes my mouth water to hear you.
"After that," continued the North Wind, "the hunting commenced. The
harpoon was flung into the breast of the walrus, so that a smoking
stream of blood spurted forth like a fountain, and besprinkled the
ice. Then I thought of my own game; I began to blow, and set my own
ships, the great icebergs sailing, so that they might crush the
boats. Oh, how the sailors howled and cried out! but I howled louder
than they. They were obliged to unload their cargo, and throw their
chests and the dead walruses on the ice. Then I sprinkled snow over
them, and left them in their crushed boats to drift southward, and
to taste salt water. They will never return to Bear's Island."
"So you have done mischief," said the mother of the Winds.
"I shall leave others to tell the good I have done," he replied.
"But here comes my brother from the West; I like him best of all,
for he has the smell of the sea about him, and brings in a cold,
fresh air as he enters."
"Is that the little Zephyr?" asked the prince.
"Yes, it is the little Zephyr," said the old woman; "but he is not
little now. In years gone by he was a beautiful boy; now that is all
past."
He came in, looking like a wild man, and he wore a slouched hat to
protect his head from injury. In his hand he carried a club, cut
from a mahogany tree in the American forests, not a trifle to carry.
"Whence do you come?" asked the mother.
"I come from the wilds of the forests, where the thorny brambles
form thick hedges between the trees; where the water-snake lies in
the wet grass, and mankind seem to be unknown."
"What were you doing there?"
"I looked into the deep river, and saw it rushing down from the
rocks. The water drops mounted to the clouds and glittered in the
rainbow. I saw the wild buffalo swimming in the river, but the
strong tide carried him away amidst a flock of wild ducks, which
flew into the air as the waters dashed onwards, leaving the buffalo
to be hurled over the waterfall. This pleased me; so I raised a
storm, which rooted up old trees, and sent them floating down the
river."
"And what else have you done?" asked the old woman.
"I have rushed wildly across the savannahs; I have stroked the wild
horses, and shaken the cocoa-nuts from the trees. Yes, I have many
stories to relate; but I need not tell everything I know. You know
it all very well, don't you, old lady?" And he kissed his mother so
roughly, that she nearly fell backwards. Oh, he was, indeed, a wild
fellow.
Now in came the South Wind, with a turban and a flowing Bedouin
cloak.
"How cold it is here!" said he, throwing more wood on the fire. "It
is easy to feel that the North Wind has arrived here before me."
"Why it is hot enough here to roast a bear," said the North Wind.
"You are a bear yourself," said the other.
"Do you want to be put in the sack, both of you?" said the old
woman. "Sit down, now, on that stone, yonder, and tell me where you
have been."
"In Africa, mother. I went out with the Hottentots, who were
lion-hunting in the Kaffir land, where the plains are covered with
grass the color of a green olive; and here I ran races with the
ostrich, but I soon outstripped him in swiftness. At last I came to
the desert, in which lie the golden sands, looking like the bottom
of the sea. Here I met a caravan, and the travellers had just killed
their last camel, to obtain water; there was very little for them,
and they continued their painful journey beneath the burning sun,
and over the hot sands, which stretched before them a vast,
boundless desert. Then I rolled myself in the loose sand, and
whirled it in burning columns over their heads. The dromedarys stood
still in terror, while the merchants drew their caftans over their
heads, and threw themselves on the ground before me, as they do
before Allah, their god. Then I buried them beneath a pyramid of
sand, which covers them all. When I blow that away on my next visit,
the sun will bleach their bones, and travellers will see that others
have been there before them; otherwise, in such a wild desert, they
might not believe it possible."
"So you have done nothing but evil," said the mother. "Into the sack
with you;" and, before he was aware, she had seized the South Wind
round the body, and popped him into the bag. He rolled about on the
floor, till she sat herself upon him to keep him still.
"These boys of yours are very lively," said the prince.
"Yes," she replied, "but I know how to correct them, when necessary;
and here comes the fourth." In came the East Wind, dressed like a
Chinese.
"Oh, you come from that quarter, do you?" said she; "I thought you
had been to the garden of paradise."
"I am going there to-morrow," he replied; "I have not been there for
a hundred years. I have just come from China, where I danced round
the porcelain tower till all the bells jingled again. In the streets
an official flogging was taking place, and bamboo canes were being
broken on the shoulders of men of every high position, from the
first to the ninth grade. They cried, 'Many thanks, my fatherly
benefactor;' but I am sure the words did not come from their hearts,
so I rang the bells till they sounded, 'ding, ding-dong.'"
"You are a wild boy," said the old woman; "it is well for you that
you are going to-morrow to the garden of paradise; you always get
improved in your education there. Drink deeply from the fountain of
wisdom while you are there, and bring home a bottleful for me."
Click Here for Part
2 of The Garden of Paradise
The Garden of Paradise
A Classic Children's Short Story
by
Hans Christian Andersen |
