were its neighbors
felt they must control and keep it in order, and therefore made
incursions into it, and fought its people and each other for
possession. But it had not been always so. It was an old, old
country, and hundreds of years ago it had been as celebrated for its
peaceful happiness and wealth as for its beauty. It was often said
that it was one of the most beautiful places in the world. A favorite
Samavian legend was that it had been the site of the Garden of Eden.
In those past centuries, its people had been of such great stature,
physical beauty, and strength, that they had been like a race of noble
giants. They were in those days a pastoral people, whose rich crops
and splendid flocks and herds were the envy of less fertile countries.
Among the shepherds and herdsmen there were poets who sang their own
songs when they piped among their sheep upon the mountain sides and in
the flower-thick valleys. Their songs had been about patriotism and
bravery, and faithfulness to their chieftains and their country. The
simple courtesy of the poorest peasant was as stately as the manner of
a noble. But that, as Loristan had said with a tired smile, had been
before they had had time to outlive and forget the Garden of Eden.
Five hundred years ago, there had succeeded to the throne a king who
was bad and weak. His father had lived to be ninety years old, and his
son had grown tired of waiting in Samavia for his crown. He had gone
out into the world, and visited other countries and their courts. When
he returned and became king, he lived as no Samavian king had lived
before. He was an extravagant, vicious man of furious temper and
bitter jealousies. He was jealous of the larger courts and countries
he had seen, and tried to introduce their customs and their ambitions.
He ended by introducing their worst faults and vices. There arose
political quarrels and savage new factions. Money was squandered until
poverty began for the first time to stare the country in the face. The
big Samavians, after their first stupefaction, broke forth into furious
rage. There were mobs and riots, then bloody battles. Since it was
the king who had worked this wrong, they would have none of him. They
would depose him and make his son king in his place. It was at this
part of the story that Marco was always most deeply interested. The
young prince was totally unlike his father. He was a true royal
Samavian. He was bigger and