"Ah! that I do not know. I only dream about it myself. I see its
shadows sometimes in my mirror: the way to it I do not know. But I
think the Old Man of the Fire must know. He is much older than I am. He
is the oldest man of all."
"Where does he live?"
"I will show you the way to his place. I never saw him myself."
So saying, the young man rose, and then stood for a while gazing at
Tangle.
"I wish I could see that country too," he said. "But I must mind my
work."
He led her to the side of the cave, and told her to lay her ear against
the wall.
"What do you hear?" he asked.
"I hear," answered Tangle, "the sound of a great water running inside
the rock."
"That river runs down to the dwelling of the oldest man of all--the Old
Man of the Fire. I wish I could go to see him. But I must mind my work.
That river is the only way to him."
Then the Old Man of the Earth stooped over the floor of the cave,
raised a huge stone from it, and left it leaning. It disclosed a great
hole that went plumb-down.
"That is the way," he said.
"But there are no stairs."
"You must throw yourself in. There is no other way."
She turned and looked him full in the face--stood so for a whole
minute, as she thought: it was a whole year--then threw herself
headlong into the hole.
When she came to herself, she found herself gliding down fast and deep.
Her head was under water, but that did not signify, for, when she
thought about it, she could not remember that she had breathed once
since her bath in the cave of the Old Man of the Sea. When she lifted
up her head a sudden and fierce heat struck her, and she sank it again
instantly, and went sweeping on.
Gradually the stream grew shallower. At length she could hardly keep
her head under. Then the water could carry her no farther. She rose
from the channel, and went step for step down the burning descent. The
water ceased altogether. The heat was terrible. She felt scorched to
the bone, but it did not touch her strength. It grew hotter and hotter.
She said, "I can bear it no longer." Yet she went on.
At the long last, the stair ended at a rude archway in an all but
glowing rock. Through this archway Tangle fell exhausted into a cool
mossy cave. The floor and walls were covered with moss--green, soft,
and damp. A little stream spouted from a rent in the rock and fell into
a basin of moss. She plunged her face into it and drank. Then she
lifted her head and looked aroun
|