Little Johannes Part 6

The ground was covered with deep dark-green moss, and Johannes had again grown so tiny that it appeared to him like another wood on the ground, beneath the greater wood. What elegant little stems! and how closely they grew! It was difficult to make a way between them, and the moss forest seemed terribly large.

Presently they crossed an ants' track. Hundreds of ants were hurrying up and down, some dragging chips of wood or little blades of gra.s.s in their jaws. There was such a bustle that Johannes was almost bewildered.

It was a long time before one of the ants would spare them a word. They were all too busy. At last they found an old ant who was set to watch the plant-lice from which the ants get honeydew. As his herd was a very quiet one he could very well give a little time to the strangers, and let them see the great nest. It was situated at the foot of an old tree-trunk, and was very large, with hundreds of pa.s.sages and cells. The plant-louse herd led the way, and conducted the visitors into every part of it, even into the nurseries where the young larvae were creeping out of their coc.o.o.ns. Johannes was amazed and delighted.

The old ant told them that every one was very busy by reason of the campaign which was immediately at hand. Another colony of ants, dwelling not far off, was to be attacked by a strong force, their nest destroyed and the larvae carried off or killed; and as all the strength at their command must be employed, all the most necessary tasks must be got through beforehand.

'What is the campaign about?' said Johannes. 'I do not like fighting.'

'Nay, nay!' replied the herdsman. 'It is a very grand and praiseworthy war. You must remember that it is the soldier-ants we are going to attack; we shall exterminate the race, and that is a very good work.'

'Then you are not soldier-ants?'

'Certainly not. What are you thinking about? We are the peace-loving ants.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Do not you know? Well, I will explain. Once upon a time all ants were continually fighting, not a day pa.s.sed without some great battle. Then there came a good, wise ant, who thought that he should save much sorrow if he could persuade them all to agree among themselves to fight no more. But when he said so every one thought him very odd, and for that reason they proceeded to bite him in pieces. Still, after this, other ants came who said the same thing, and they too were bitten to pieces.

But at last so many were of this opinion that biting them to pieces was too hard work for the others. So then they called themselves the Peaceful Ants, and they did everything which their first teacher had done, and those who opposed them they, in their turn, bit in pieces. In this way almost all the ants at the present time have become Peaceful Ants, and the fragments of the first Peaceful Ant are carefully and reverently preserved. We have his head--the genuine head. We have devastated and annihilated twelve other colonies who pretended to have the True Head. Now there are but four who dare to do so. They call themselves Peaceful Ants, but in fact they are Fighting Ants by nature--but we have the True Head, and the Peaceful Ant had but one head. Now we are going to-morrow to destroy the thirteenth colony. So you see it is a good work.'

'Yes, yes,' said Johannes. 'It is very strange!'

He was in fact a little uneasy, and felt happier when, after thanking the herd-keeper, they had taken their leave, and were sitting far from the Ant colony, rocked on the top of a tall gra.s.s-stem, under the shade of a graceful fern.

'Hooh!' sighed Johannes, 'that was a bloodthirsty and stupid tribe!'

Windekind laughed, and swung up and down on the gra.s.s haulm.

'Oh!' said he, 'you must not call them stupid. Men go to the ants to get wisdom.'

Then Windekind showed Johannes all the wonders of the wood; they flew up to visit the birds in the tree-tops and in the thick shrubs, went down into the moles' clever dwellings, and saw the bees' nest in the old hollow tree.

At last they came out on an open place surrounded by brushwood.

Honeysuckle grew there in great abundance. Its luxuriant trails climbed over everything, and the scented flowers peeped from among the greenery.

A swarm of tomt.i.ts hopped and fluttered among the leaves with a great deal of twittering and chirping.

'Let us stay here a little while,' said Johannes; 'this is splendid.'

'Very well,' said Windekind. 'And you shall see something very droll.'

There were blue-bells in the gra.s.s. Johannes sat down by one of them and began to talk with the bees and the b.u.t.terflies. They were friends of the blue-bells', so the conversation went on at a great rate.

What was that? A huge shadow came across the gra.s.s, and something like a white cloud fell down on the blue-bell--Johannes had scarcely time to get away,--he flew to Windekind who was sitting high up in a honeysuckle flower. Then he saw that the white cloud was a pocket-handkerchief, and b.u.mp! A st.u.r.dy damsel sat down on the handkerchief and on the poor blue-bell which was under it.

He had not time to bewail it before the sound of voices and the cracking of branches filled the glade in the forest. A crowd of men and women appeared.

'Now we shall have something to laugh at,' said Windekind.

The party came on, the ladies with umbrellas in their hands, the men with tall chimney-pot hats, and almost all in black, completely black.

In the green sunny wood they looked like great, ugly ink-spots on a beautiful picture. The brushwood was broken down, flowers trodden underfoot; many white handkerchiefs were spread, and the yielding gra.s.s and patient moss sighed as they were crushed under the weight they had to bear, fearing much that they might never recover from the blow. The smoke of cigars curled among the honeysuckle wreaths, and enviously supplanted the delicate odour of their blossoms. Sharp voices scared the gleeful tomt.i.ts, who, with terrified and indignant piping, took refuge in the nearest trees.

One man rose and went to stand on a little mound. He had long light hair, and a pale face. He said something, and then all the men and women opened their mouths very wide and began to sing so loud, that the rooks flew cawing out of their high nests, and the inquisitive little rabbits, who had come from the sand-hills to see what was going on, ran off in alarm, and were still running fully a quarter of an hour after they were safe at home again in the dunes.

Windekind laughed and fanned away the cigar-smoke with a fern leaf; but there were tears in Johannes' eyes, though not from the tobacco.

'Windekind,' said he, 'I want to go. This is all so ugly and so rude.'

'No, no, we must stay. You will laugh; it will be more amusing.'

The singing ceased and the pale man began to speak. He shouted hard, that every one might hear him; but what he said sounded very kind. He called them all his brothers and sisters, spoke of the glories of nature and the wonders of creation, of G.o.d's sunshine and the dear little birds and flowers.

'What is this?' asked Johannes. 'How can he talk of these things? Does he know you? Is he a friend of yours?'

Windekind shook his flower-crowned head disdainfully.

'He does not know me, and the sun and the birds and the flowers even less. What he says is all lies.'

The people listened very attentively. The stout lady who sat on the blue-bell began to cry several times, and wiped her eyes on her skirt, as she could not get at her handkerchief.

The pale man said that G.o.d had made the sun shine so brightly for the sake of their meeting here, and Windekind laughed and threw an acorn down from the thick leaves, which hit the tip of his nose.

'He shall learn to know better,' said he; 'my father shines for him, indeed! a fine idea!'

But the pale man was too much excited to pay any heed to the acorn, which seemed to have dropped from the sky; he talked a long time, and the longer the louder. At last he was red and purple in the face, doubled his fists, and shouted so loud that the leaves quivered and the gra.s.s stems were dismayed, and waved to and fro. When at last he came to an end they all began to sing again.

'Well, fie!' said a blackbird, who was listening from the top of a high tree, 'that is a shocking noise to make! I had rather the cows should come into our wood. Only listen. Well, for shame!'

Now the blackbird knows what he is talking about, and has a fine taste in music.

After singing, the folks brought all sorts of eatables out of baskets, boxes and bags. Sheets of paper were spread out; cakes and oranges were handed round. And bottles and gla.s.ses also made their appearance.

Then Windekind called his allies together, and they began to attack the feasters.

A smart frog leaped up into an old maid's lap, flopped on to the bread she was just about to put into her mouth, and sat there as if amazed at his own audacity. The lady gave a fearful yell, and stared at the intruder without daring to stir. This bold beginning soon found imitators. Green caterpillars crept fearlessly over hats, handkerchiefs and rolls, inspiring terror and disgust; fat field-spiders let themselves down on glittering threads into beer gla.s.ses, and on to heads or necks, and a loud shriek always followed their appearance; endless winged creatures fairly attacked the human beings in the face, sacrificing their lives for the good cause by throwing themselves on the food and in the liquor, making them useless by their corpses. Finally the ants came in innumerable troops and stung the enemy in the most unexpected places, by hundreds at once. This gave rise to the greatest consternation and confusion. Men and women alike fled from the long crushed moss and gra.s.s. The poor blue-bell, too, was released in consequence of a well-directed attack by two ear-wigs on the stout maiden's legs. The men and women grew desperate; by dancing and leaping with the most extraordinary gestures, they tried to escape their persecutors. The pale man stood still for a long time, hitting about him with a small black stick; but a few audacious tomt.i.ts, who were not above any form of attack, and a wasp, who stung him in the calf through his black trousers, placed him _hors de combat_.

Then the sun could no longer keep his countenance, and hid his face behind a cloud. Large drops of rain fell on the antagonistic parties. It looked as though the shower had suddenly made a forest of great black toadstools spring out of the ground. These were the umbrellas, which were hastily opened. The women turned their skirts over their heads, thus displaying their white petticoats, white-stockinged legs, and shoes without heels. Oh, what fun for Windekind! He had to hold on to a flower-stem to laugh.

The rain fell more and more heavily; the forest was shrouded in a grey sparkling veil. Streams of water ran off the umbrellas, tall hats and black overcoats, which shone like the sh.e.l.l of a water-snail; their shoes slopped and smacked in the soaking ground. Then the people gave it up, and dropped off doubtfully in twos and threes, leaving behind them a litter of papers, empty bottles and orange peel, the hideous relics of their visit. The open glade in the forest was soon deserted once more, and ere long nothing was to be heard but the monotonous rush of the rain.

'Well, Johannes! now we have seen what men are like. Why do you not laugh at them?'

'Oh, Windekind! Are all men like these?'

'Indeed, there are worse and uglier. Sometimes they shout and rave, and destroy everything that is pretty or good. They cut down trees and stick their horrible square houses in their place; they wilfully crush the flowers, and kill every creature that comes within their reach, merely for pleasure. In their dwellings, where they crowd one upon another, it is all dirty and black, and the air is tainted and poisoned by the smell of smoke. They are complete strangers to nature and their fellow-creatures. That is why they cut such a foolish, miserable figure when they come forth to see them.'

'Oh dear! Windekind, Windekind.'

'Why do you cry, Johannes? You must not cry because you were born to be a man. I love you all the same and choose you out of them all. I have taught you to understand the language of the b.u.t.terflies and birds, and the faces of the flowers. The moon knows you, and the good kind earth regards you as her dearest child. Why should you not be glad since I am your friend?'