The Day Boy and the Night Girl | Page 8

colors
of the carpet of the great room. She longed to get down among them,
now she saw they were real creatures, but she did not know how. She
went along the whole length of the wall to the end that crossed the river,
but found no way of going down. Above the river she stopped to gaze
with awe upon the rushing water. She knew nothing of water but from
what she drank and what she bathed in; and as the moon shone on the
dark, swift stream, singing lustily as it flowed, she did not doubt the
river was alive, a swift rushing serpent of life, going -- out? -- whither?
And then she wondered if what was brought into her rooms had been
killed that she might drink it, and have her bath in it.
Once when she stepped out upon the wall, it was into the midst of a
fierce wind. The trees were all roaring. Great clouds were rushing along
the skies and tumbling over the little lamps: the great lamp had not
come yet. All was in tumult. The wind seized her garments and hair
and shook them as if it would tear them from her. What could she have
done to make the gentle creature so angry? Or was this another creature
altogether -- of the same kind, but hugely bigger, and of a very different
temper and behavior? But the whole place was angry! Or was it that the
creatures dwelling in it, the wind, and the trees, and the clouds, and the
river, had all quarreled, each with all the rest? Would the whole come
to confusion and disorder? But as she gazed wondering and disquieted,
the moon, larger than ever she had seen her, came lifting herself above

the horizon to look, broad and red, as if she, too, were swollen with
anger that she had been roused from her rest by their noise, and
compelled to hurry up to see what her children were about, thus rioting
in her absence, lest they should rack the whole frame of things. And as
she rose, the loud wind grew quieter and scolded less fiercely, the trees
grew stiller and moaned with a lower complaint, and the clouds hunted
and hurled themselves less wildly across the sky. And as if she were
pleased that her children obeyed her very presence, the moon grew
smaller as she ascended the heavenly stair; her puffed cheeks sank, her
complexion grew clearer, and a sweet smile spread over her
countenance, as peacefully she rose and rose. But there was treason and
rebellion in her court; for ere she reached the top of her great stairs, the
clouds had assembled, forgetting their late wars, and very still they
were as they laid their heads together and conspired. Then combining,
and lying silently in wait until she came near, they threw themselves
upon her and swallowed her up. Down from the roof came spots of wet,
faster and faster, and they wetted the cheeks of Nycteris; and what
could they be but the tears of the moon, crying because her children
were smothering her? Nycteris wept too and, not knowing what to think,
stole back in dismay to her room.
The next time, she came out in fear and trembling. There was the moon
still! away in the west -- poor, indeed, and old, and looking dreadfully
worn, as if all the wild beasts in the sky had been gnawing at her -- but
there she was, alive still, and able to shine!
XI. The Sunset.
KNOWING nothing of darkness, or stars, or moon, Photogen spent his
days in hunting. On a great white horse he swept over the grassy plains,
glorying in the sun, fighting the wind, and killing the buffaloes.
One morning, when he happened to be on the ground a little earlier
than usual, and before his attendants, he caught sight of an animal
unknown to him, stealing from a hollow into which the sunrays had not
yet reached. Like a swift shadow it sped over the grass, slinking
southward to the forest. He gave chase, noted the body of a buffalo it
had half eaten, and pursued it the harder. But with great leaps and

bounds the creature shot farther and farther ahead of him, and vanished.
Turning therefore defeated, he met Fargu, who had been following him
as fast as his horse could carry him.
"What animal was that, Fargu?" he asked. "How he did run!"
Fargu answered he might be a leopard, but he rather thought from his
pace and look that he was a young lion.
"What a coward he must be!" said Photogen.
"Don't be too sure of that," rejoined Fargu. "He is one of the creatures
the sun makes umcomfortable. As