The Bunsby papers Part 37

Once more, therefore, my bold Terry attempted to enter the cavern, and was attacked as before, but with tenfold fury; legions of stinging flies, wasps, and hornets, raised a horrible din about his ears; but, setting his resolution up to the fearless point, on he went, without regarding their unpleasant music; expecting, of course, to be stung desperately; what was his astonishment and relief to discover that the noise was the only thing by which he was at all distressed; not one of his myriad of a.s.sailants even as much as touched him, and before he had proceeded many steps further into the cavity, every sound had ceased.

He now found his onward progress most uncomfortably impeded by a stubborn species of wild hedge-briar, whose sharp, th.o.r.n.y branches interlaced through each other, forming a barrier, whose dangerous appearance was sufficient to deter the boldest from risking a laceration. Not an opening large enough to admit his head, could Terry see, and he was about again to give the attempt up as unattainable, when, by the merest accident, on turning round, his foot slipped, and with that inward shudder with which one prepares for an inevitable hurt, he fell against the p.r.i.c.kly wall; when, to his utter amazement, it divided on each side as though it were fashioned of smoke, and he tumbled through, somewhat roughly, to be sure, but altogether unharmed by the formidable-looking interposition.

"By the mortial of war," he cried, rubbing his dilapidated elbow, and looking round to examine his position, "I'm on the right side of that hedge, any way."

Now, Terry perceived that the barrier he had just so successfully pa.s.sed was slowly regaining its original appearance, and, to his mortification, as it gradually closed up the aperture of the cavern, the light, hitherto quite sufficient for him distinctly to see every object, faded away slowly, and finally left him in utter darkness.

"Bedad, an' a tindher-box an' a sulphur match would be about the greatest threasure I could light on at this present," said Terry, as he groped about cautiously, to find some kind of an elevation whereupon he might sit and wait for luck.

He had not been many minutes, however, in the blackness, when his quickened sense became aware of a light, reddish spot, which faintly glowed at some distance. This was the first sign of an encouraging nature he had experienced, and with a beating heart he proceeded to feel his way towards the bright indication.

Getting gradually accustomed to the dimness that surrounded him he suddenly discovered that he was opposed by a solid wall of rock, in the very centre of which the pale red glimmer still shone, like a star seen through a summer mist.

"The divil a use in my thravellin' any longer in that direction," said Terry, turning sharply round to retrace his steps, when to his amazement and consternation he encountered the same rocky barrier.

Whichever way he looked all was alike, stern and impa.s.sable. He was enclosed within a stony wall, whose circ.u.mference was but little more than an arm's length, but whose height was lost in the unsearchable darkness.

"Musha, then, how the divil did I stumble into this man-thrap?" cried Terry, in consternation. "There's no way out that I can see, an' where the mischief the top of it is, is beyant my comprehendin'. Bedad, there's nothing for it but to thry an' climb up." So saying, Terry placed his foot upon what he supposed, in the uncertain light, was a bold projection of the rock, when down he stepped through it, and before he could recover his perpendicular, his body was half buried in the apparent wall.

"Be jabers, if it ain't more of their thricks--the never a rock's there, no more nor the briars was; they may make fools of my eyes, but they can't of my fingers, an' its thim I'll thrust to in future," said he; and so, keeping the light in view, he boldly dashed through all the seeming obstacles, and soon found himself once more in an open s.p.a.ce.

It was a kind of vaulted tunnel that he was now traversing, his onward path still in profound darkness, with the sole exception of the red light, which Terry imagined grew larger and more distinct, each step he took. A rush of warm air every now and then swept by him, and his tread echoed in the far distance, giving an idea of immense length.

Somewhat a.s.sured by the impunity with which he had already explored the enchanted districts, he was beginning to pick his way with freer breath, when his ears were smitten by a sound which sank his heart still deeper. It was the loud and furious barking of a pack of evidently most ferocious dogs, which approached rapidly, right in his path. On came the savage animals, louder and louder grew their terrible bark, and Terry gave himself up for lost in good earnest. It was no use to turn about and run, although that was his first impulse; so, flinging himself down on the ground, he awaited the attack of his unseen foes. He could now hear the clatter of their enormous paws, while their growlings echoed through the cavern like thunder.

"Murdher an' nouns, there's a half a hundred of them, I know there is; an' it's mince-meat they'll make of me in less than no time," cried Terry, mumbling all the prayers he could remember, and in another instant, with a tremendous roar, they were upon him, and, with stunning yells, swept over him as he lay; but not an atom did he feel, no more than if a cloud had pa.s.sed across.

"If they're not at it again, the blaggards," said he, getting up, and shaking himself; "the divil a dog was there in the place at all--nothin' but mouth--but, by dad, there's enough of that to frighten the sowl out of a narvous Christian;" and once more the bold Piper started in pursuit of the coveted light. He had not proceeded very far, before he heard the distant bellowing of a bull; but, warned by his past experience, he shut his ears against the sound, and although it increased fearfully, as though some mad herd were tearing down upon him, he courageously kept on. To be sure, his breath stopped for a moment, and his pulse ceased to beat, when the thing seemed to approach his vicinity, but, as he antic.i.p.ated, the terror fled by him as he stood up erect, with the sensation, only, of a pa.s.sing breeze.

Terry received no further molestation, but plodded along quietly until he came right up to the place from whence the light proceeded which had hitherto guided him, and here a most gorgeous sight presented itself to his enraptured gaze.

Within a luminous opening of the cave he saw groups of living atomies, all busied in the formation of the various gems for which the rich ones of the world hunger. In one compartment were the diamond-makers; in another, those who, when finished, coated them over with the rough exterior which they hoped would prevent them from being distinguished from common pebbles. Here was a tiny mult.i.tude, fashioning emeralds of astonishing magnitude; there, a crowd of industrious elves, putting the last sparkle into some magnificent rubies.

With staring eyes, and mouth all agape with wonder and delight, Terry watched the curious process for a few moments, scarcely breathing audibly for fear of breaking the brilliant spell. What to do he did not know. Heaps of the coveted jewels lay around within his very grasp, yet how to possess himself, without danger, of a few handfuls, he couldn't imagine.

At last, resolving to make one final effort to enrich himself, he suddenly plunged his hand into the glittering ma.s.s of diamonds, presuming they were the most valuable, and, clutching a quant.i.ty, thrust them into his pocket, intending to repeat the operation until he had sufficient; but the instant that he did so, the entire cavern was rent asunder as with the force of an earthquake, the solid rock opened beneath him with a deafening explosion, and he was shot upwards as from the mouth of a cannon--up--up through the rifted cave, and miles high into the air. Not a whit injured did he feel from the concussion, saving a sense of lightness, as though he was as empty as a blown bladder. So high did he go in his aerial flight, that he plainly saw to-morrow's sun lighting up the lakes and fields of other lat.i.tudes. As soon as he had reached an alt.i.tude commensurate with the power of the explosive agency, he turned over and commenced his downward progress, and, to his great relief, found that his fall was by no means as rapid as he had antic.i.p.ated--for his consciousness had not for a moment left him; on the contrary, the buoyant air supported him without difficulty, and each random gust of wind tossed him about like a feather. Well, day came, and shone, and vanished; so did the evening, and the starry night, and early morning, before Terry had completed his easy descent; when at length he touched the earth, gently as a falling leaf, and found himself lying beside the very stone from whence he had departed on his late exploration. The marks of the recent terrible convulsion were visible, however, for the vast mountain was gone, and in its place a deep, round chasm, filled to over-flowing with a dark yellow liquid, that hissed and bubbled into flame like a Tartarian lake. The rocks around him, that before had shone so resplendently, were now blackened and calcined--the lovely vegetation blasted--the paradise a desert.

"Athin, may-be, I haven't been kickin' up the divil's delights hereabouts," said Terry, as he looked round at the desolation. "But never a hair I care; haven't I got a pocket-full of big di'minds, an'

won't they set me up anyway?" he continued, drawing forth the precious contents of his pocket, and placing them on the rock by his side; when, to his infinite mortification, the entire collection turned out to be nothing but worthless pebbles.

"Musha! thin, may bad luck attend yez for a set of schemin' vagabones; an' afther all my throuble it's done again I am," he cried, in a rage, emptying his pocket, and flinging away its contents in thorough disgust. "Hollo! what's this?" he cried, with a start, as he drew forth the last handful; "may I never ate bread if I haven't tuk one of the chaps prisoner, an' if it isn't a Leprechaun I'm not alive;" and sure enough there, lying in the palm of his hand, was as queer a looking specimen of fairyhood as ever the eye looked upon.

The little bit of a creature had the appearance of an old man, with wrinkled skin and withered features. It was dressed, too, in the costume of a by-gone age. A mite of a velvet coat covered its morsel of a back; a pair of velvet breeches, together with white silk stockings, and little red-heeled shoes, adorned its diminutive legs, which looked as if they might have belonged to a rather fat spider, and a stiff white wig, duly pomatumed and powdered, surmounted by a three-cornered hat, bedecked its head.

The leprechaun seemed to be in a state of insensibility, as Terry examined minutely its old-fashioned appearance. "It's just as I've heard tell of 'em," he cried, in glee; "c.o.c.ked hat, an' breeches, an'

buckles, an' all. Hurroo! I'm a made man if he ever comes to." With that, Terry breathed gently on the little fellow as he lay in his hand, as one would to resuscitate a drowned fly.

"I wondher if he'd have any relish for wather--here goes to thry," said Terry, plucking a b.u.t.tercup flower, in whose cavity a drop of dew had rested, and holding it to the lips of the leprechaun, "Oh, murdher! if I only had a taste of whisky to qualify it; if that wouldn't bring the life into an Irish fairy, nothing would. Ha! he's openin' his bit of an eye, by dad; here, suck this, yer sowl to glory," Terry continued, and was soon gratified by seeing the leprechaun begin to imbibe the contents of the b.u.t.tercup with intense avidity.

"I hope you're betther, sir," said Terry, politely.

"Not the betther for you, Mr. Terry Magra," replied the fairy, "though I'm obleeged to you for the drop o' drink."

"Indeed, an' yer welcome, sir," Terry went on, "an' more betoken, it's mighty sorry I am to have gev you any oneasiness."

"That's the last lie you towld, Mr. Terry, and you know it," the leprechaun answered, tartly, "when your heart is fairly leapin' in your body because you've had the luck to lay a howld of me."

"Well, an' can't a fella be glad at his own luck, an' yet sorry if anybody else is hurted by it," said Terry, apologetically.

"You can't humbug me, you covetious blaggard," the fairy went on. "But I'll thry you, anyway--now listen to me. The fairies that you have just been so wicked as to inthrude your unwelcome presence upon, were all leprechauns like myself--immortal essences, whose duty it was to make and guard the treasures, that you saw in spite of all the terrors that we employed to frighten you away. So long as they were un.o.bserved by mortal eyes, our existence was a bright and glorious one; but, once seen, we are obliged to abandon our fairy life and shape, take this degrading form, and work at a degrading occupation, subject to the ailments and mishaps of frail humanity, and forced to live in constant fear of your insatiate species. Now, the only chance I have to regain the blissful immortality I have lost, is for you to be magnanimous enough to relinquish the good fortune you antic.i.p.ate from my capture.

Set me unconditionally free, and I can revel once more in my forfeited fairy existence--persevere in your ungenerous advantage, and I am condemned to wander a wretched out-cast through the world--now, what is your determination?"

Terry's better feelings prompted him at first to let the little creature go, but love of lucre got the upper hand, and after a slight pause of irresolution, he replied:

"Indeed, an' it's heart sick that I am to act so conthrary, but I'll leave it to yerself if it ain't agin nature for a man to fling away his luck. Shoemakin' is an iligant amus.e.m.e.nt, an' profitable; you'll soon get mighty fond of it; so, I'm afeard I'll have to throuble you to do somethin' for me."

"I thought how it would be; you're all alike," said the fairy, sadly; "selfish to the heart's core. Well, what do you want? I'm in your power, and must fulfill your desire."

"Long life to you; now ye talk sense," cried Terry, elated. "Sure I won't be hard on you--a thrifle of money is all I wish for in the world, for everything else will follow that."

"More, perhaps, than you imagine--cares and anxieties," said the leprechaun.

"I'll risk all them," replied Terry; "come, now, I'll tell you what you may do for me. Let me find a shillin' in my pocket every time I put my fist into it, an' I'll be satisfied."

"Enough! it's a bargain; and now that you have made your wish, all your power over me is gone," said the leprechaun, springing out of his hand like a gra.s.shopper, and lighting on the branch beside him; "it's a purty sort of a fool you are," it continued, with a chuckle, "when the threasures of the universe were yours for the desire, to be contented with a pitiful pocket-full of shillin's! ho! ho!" and the little thing laughed like a cornkrake at the discomfited Terry.

"Musha! then, may bad cess to me if I don't crush the fun out of your cattherpillar of a carca.s.s if I ketch a howlt of you," said Terry, savagely griping at the fairy; but, with another spring, it jumped into the brushwood, and disappeared.

Terry's first impulse was to dive his hand into his pocket to see if the leprechaun had kept his word, and to his great delight, there he found, sure enough, a fine bright new shilling. At this discovery his joy knew no bounds. He jumped and hallooed aloud, amusing himself flinging away shilling after shilling, merely on purpose to test the continuance of the supply. He was satisfied. It was inexhaustible, and bright dreams of a splendid future flitted before his excited imagination.

With a heart full of happiness, Terry now wended his way homeward, busying himself, as he went along, in conveying shilling after shilling from one pocket into the other, until he filled it up to the b.u.t.ton-hole. On arriving at the village, he met a few of his old companions, but so altered that he could scarcely recognize them, while they stared at him as though he were a spectre.

"Keep us from harm," said one, "if here ain't Terry Magra come back."

"Back," cried Terry, with a merry laugh, "why, man alive, I've never been away."

"Never away, indeed, and the hair of you as white as the dhriven snow, that was as brown as a beetle's back, whin you left," said the other.

It then struck Terry that his friends in their turn had aged considerably. The youngest that he remembered had become bent and wrinkled. "The saints be good to us," he cried, "but this is mighty quare entirely. How long is it sence I've seen yez, boys?" he inquired eagerly.

"How long is it? why, a matther of twenty years or so," said one of the bystanders; "don't you know it is?"

"Faith, an' I didn't until this blessed minute," said Terry. "Have I grown ould onbeknownst to myself, I wondher?"

"Bedad, an' it's an easy time you must have had sence you've been away," said another; "not all as one as some of us."

"Well, won't you come an' taste a sup, for gra' we met?" said Terry, beginning to feel rather uneasy at the singular turn things had taken; but they shook their heads, and, without any other observation, pa.s.sed on, leaving him standing alone.

"Stop!" he cried, "wait a bit; it's lashin's of money that I have--here--look;" and he drew forth a handful of the silver. It was no use, however. All their old cordiality and love of fun were gone; off they went, without even a glance behind them.