HOW KILHUGH RODE TO ARTHUR'S HALL

By James Baldwin

Prince Kilhugh blushed. The love of Olwen, the
daughter of Thistlehair, filled his heart, although he
had not heard her name before. His face flushed with
happiness, and his eyes shone with joy.

"What is the matter, my son?" asked his father. "Why 5
are you so gay and glad?"

"Father," answered Kilhugh, "my stepmother says
that no one but Olwen shall be my wife."

"Well," quoth the king, "I doubt not there will be
trouble enough before that saying comes true. But do 10
not fear, my son. Thou art first cousin to King Arthur.
Who but he should cut thy hair and be thy lord? Go to
him, and crave this of him as a boon."

To Arthur's Hall, therefore, Prince Kilhugh made ready
to go; and his father chose fifty of his bravest knights 15
to go with him, that he might present himself to King
Arthur in a befitting manner.

So gayly the youth rode forth upon a steed of dappled
gray, four summers old, with shell-shaped hoofs and well-knit
limbs. His saddle was of burnished gold, his bridle 20
of shining gold chains. His saddle cloth was of purple
silk, with four golden apples embroidered in the four
corners.

The war horn slung over his shoulder was of ivory; the
sword that hung by his side had a golden hilt and a two-edged 5
blade inlaid with a cross of gold that glittered like
the lightning of heaven. His shoes, from the knee to the
tip of the toe, were embossed with gold worth three hundred
cattle; and his stirrups also were of gold.

In his hand he held two spears, with shafts of silver and10
heads of tempered steel, and of an edge so sharp as to wound
the wind and cause the blood to flow. Two white-breasted
greyhounds bounded before his steed. Broad collars
set with rubies were on their necks; and to and fro they 15
sprang, like two sea swallows sporting around him. The
blades of reed grass bent not beneath him, so light was
his courser's tread, as he journeyed toward the gate of
Arthur's palace.

The Wide White Hall of Arthur had been built by Rearfort,20
the architect. Eight and forty were the rafters of
its roof. It would hold all Arthur's companions and his
nobles, his warriors, his retainers, and his guests.

While Kilhugh was riding thither, the tables were set
for the evening meal. The king, with his knights, his
friends, and his attendants, were in their places around 25
the board. And the gate of the outer court was locked.

As the prince rode on, he beheld from afar the walls and
towers of Arthur's Hall. When he drew rein within the
shadow of the vast portal, he saw that the door was closed
and barred, and an armed warrior, stalwart and strong, 30
was standing before it.

"O chieftain," he said, "is it King Arthur's custom
to have a gatekeeper stationed here?"

"It is," replied the warrior sternly; "and if thou dost
not hold thy peace, scant shall be thy welcome. I am
Arthur's porter every New Year's Day, and that is why I 5
am here now."

"And who is the porter at other times?" asked Prince
Kilhugh.

"At other times the gate is guarded by four lusty chieftains
who serve under me," answered the Dusky Hero with 10
the Mighty Grasp. "The names of the first two are
Blandmien and Speedguest. The third is Grumgruff, a
man who never did anyone a favor in his life. The fourth
is Rumbleroll, who goes on his head to save his feet. He
neither holds it up to the sky like a man, nor stretches it 15
out toward the ground like a brute; but he goes tumbling
about the floor, like nothing but a rolling stone."

"Unbar the door and let me in," commanded Kilhugh.

"Nay, that I will not," answered the Dusky Hero with
the Mighty Grasp. 20

"And why not?" cried the prince.

"The knife is in the meat and the drink is in the horn,
and there is revelry in Arthur's Hall; and no man may
enter in save the son of a king from a friendly land. But
never shall it be said that a wayfarer was turned harshly25
away from Arthur's door. Food enough for thee and thy
fifty men shall be prepared; collops shall be cooked and
peppered for all. In the stables there is fodder for thy
horses and food in plenty for thy dogs. And thou shalt
fare as well in the guest chamber as in the hall; only be30
content, and disturb not the king and his knights at the
table."

"Nay, I will have nothing of all this," said young Kilhugh.
"If thou wilt open the door, well and good. But
if not, I will bring dishonor upon Arthur and shame upon
thee. Here, on the spot where I stand, I will shout thrice
and make the welkin ring. Sounds more deadly than 5
those three shouts have never been heard in this land.
They shall resound from Land's End to Cold Blast Ridge
in Ireland, and turn the hearts of youths and maidens
cold as stone. Matrons shall grow wan and weakly and
many a mother's child shall die of fright—so dreadful 10
will be my voice."

The Dusky Hero with the Mighty Grasp stood firm,
although his heart misgave him. "No clamor that thou
canst make," said he, "will ever admit thee here against
King Arthur's wishes. However, I will go and tell him 15
thou art here."

Well might he be perturbed by Kilhugh's threat. For
he remembered what had once happened in the days of
King Lud, when all Britain had been shaken by a fearful
shriek. At the sound of it, men had grown pale and feeble, 20
women listless and sad, and youths and maidens forlorn
and woebegone. Beasts deserted their young ones, birds
left their nestlings, trees cast off their fruit, the earth
yielded no harvest.

Pondering upon these things, the Dusky Hero with the 25
Mighty Grasp strode into the hall. King Arthur saw him
and called out, "Hast thou come with tidings from the
door?"

The Dusky Hero bowed, and answered in stately phrase,
becoming a knight of the Table Round: 30

"Half of my life is past, noble king, and half of thine.
I have been with thee in Europe, in Asia, in Africa, and in
the Island of Corsica. I was thy companion when thou
didst spread the terror of the sword from Scandinavia to
Spain. I fought by thy side in the Battle of Shades, when
we brought away twelve hostages from the Dim Land under 5
the Sea. I have been in Jerusalem and in Castle Covert-and-Clearing,
built all of dead men's bones. I have been
in Turning Castle, and in the Castle of Riches; and there
thou knowest we saw nine kings of nations, all comely men
of noble mien. Yet, I protest and declare that I never 10
before saw a youth so handsome and dignified as that one
who is now sitting astride his horse and waiting outside
the door of this hall."

Then cried the king, "Thou didst walk hither to tell me
of him; now hie thee back to him, running at full speed. 15
Invite him to come in; and let every man who sees the light,
and every man who blinks the eye, stand ready to do him
honor."

The Dusky Hero with the Mighty Grasp returned to
the great door. He drew back bolt and bar, and set it 20
wide open before the prince and his train. The men at
arms dismounted at the horse block in the courtyard, but
Kilhugh still sat upon his steed and rode into the Hall.

"Hail to thee, King Arthur!" he cried. "I greet thee
and thy guests and thy companions and thy warriors. 25
My greeting is to the lowest as well as to the highest of all
that have a seat within this Hall. May thy name, King
Arthur, and thy fame and thy renown be forever held in
glorious memory throughout the length and the breadth
of this land!" 30

"Hail to thee, noble youth!" returned Arthur. "Thou
art right welcome. Here is a place for thee between two of
my knights. Sit down, and my minstrels will play for thee."

But Kilhugh made answer: "I have not come hither,
sire, to eat and drink, but to crave of thee a boon. If thou
wilt grant it me, I will do thee such service as thou mayest 5
command; and I will carry the praise of thy bounty and
thy power into every land. But if thou dost refuse, I will
spread ill reports of thee to the four quarters of the world."

Then King Arthur was greatly pleased, and he said:
"Ask thy boon, young chieftain. Thou shalt have whatever 10
thy tongue may name, as far as the wind dries and the
rain moistens and the sun revolves and the sea encircles
and the earth extends. Thou shalt have anything that is
mine, except my ship that bears me over the sea, and
the mantle in which I can walk unseen, and my good sword,15
and my keen lance, and my shield, and my gleaming dagger,
and Guinevere my wife. Ask what thou wilt."

"My request is, that thou wilt cut my hair," answered
Kilhugh.

"Thy request is granted," quoth the king.20

Then Arthur called for a golden comb and a pair of
scissors with silver loops. And he combed the hair of the
prince, as he sat upon his steed, and cut it front and back.

"Now tell me thy name," he said.

"My name is Kilhugh," replied the prince. "My father 25
is Prince Kilith, and my mother was a sister of the fair
Ygerne."

"Then we are cousins," cried Arthur, "and I give thee
leave to ask another boon. Ask what thou wilt."
"Promise me, for the honor of thy kingdom, to grant 30
my boon," said Kilhugh.

"I promise."

"Then do I crave of thee to obtain for me Olwen, the
daughter of Thistlehair, chief of the Giants, to be my wife. . . .
For the sake of the daughters of the Island of the
Mighty, I crave thy help to seek this maiden. For the
sake of Guinevere and of her sister; for the sake of Lynette 5
of the Magic Ring; for the sake of Cordelia the daughter
of King Lear, the loveliest maiden in this island; and for
the sake of Iseult la Belle, and of Elaine, and of Angarad
of the Golden Hand—for the sake of these and many
others, I crave thy help." 10

Then said Arthur, "O prince and cousin, I have never
heard of this maiden, Olwen; I have never heard of her
kindred. But I will send messengers to seek her; only
grant them time to find her and return."

"To-day is New Year's Day," answered the prince. 15
"I give them from this hour till the last day of the year."

And having said these words, he dismounted from his
steed and went and sat by King Arthur's side in the midst
of the heroes of the Table Round.

THE GIFT OF THE WHITE BEAR

By George Webbe Dasent

A long time ago there lived in Iceland a man whose
name was Audun. His means were small, but everybody
knew of his goodness. In order to see the world and to
add to his wealth, he once sailed to Greenland with a sea
captain named Thorir. Before he went, he gave everything 5
that he had to his mother—and this was not much.

In Greenland Audun bought a white bear that was well
tamed and trained—and it was the greatest treasure of
a bear that had ever been thought of. The next summer
Thorir sailed back to Norway, and Audun went with him, 10
taking the bear.

Now Audun had made up his mind to give the bear to
Sweyn, the king of Denmark; and so, leaving Thorir, he
made his way south to the Cattegat. While he was waiting
for some vessel that would carry him across the channel, it 15
so happened that Harold, the king of Norway, came also to
the same place.

Of course some one soon told King Harold about the
Icelander who had lately come from Greenland with a
wonderful white bear, and he at once sent for Audun. 20

"I have heard about your white bear," said Harold,
"and I wish to buy it."

"I will not sell it," answered Audun.

"But I will pay you twice as much as you gave for it,"
said the king. 25

"Not for any price will I sell it," said the Icelander.

"Then will you give it to me?" asked the king.

"No, my lord, I will not do that," answered Audun.

"What, then, will you do with it?" asked the king.

Audun answered, "I have made up my mind to take it
to Denmark and give it to King Sweyn, for he is also the 5
king of my own country."

Then Harold spoke up sharply: "Don't you know, my
fellow, that there is war between Norway and Denmark,
and between myself and your King Sweyn? Don't you
know that I have the power to prevent you from ever 10
getting to his land?"

Audun answered, "I know that you have the power, and
that all rests with you. But I will consent to nothing
save to do as I have told you."

The king sat in thought for a moment and then said, 15
"Well, I see no reason why you should not do as you please
in this matter. But promise me that when you come this
way again, you will tell me how King Sweyn rewarded you
for the beast."

"I give you my word to do that," answered Audun. 20

Then, leading the bear behind him, he went away. But
it was a long time before he could find any means to cross
over into Denmark, and when at last he set foot upon the
shores of that country he had not even a penny with which
to buy food. Both he and the bear were starving, and it 25
was a long way to the place where the king was staying.

In his distress, Audun went to a rich man named Auki
and begged for food for himself and his bear.

"What are you going to do with the beast?" asked
Auki. 30

"Give him to King Sweyn," answered the Icelander.

"And how much do you expect to receive for him?"

"Only so much as the king in his bounty wishes to give."

Then the rich man answered, "If you will give me one
half of the bear, I will feed you both."

And to this Audun made agreement, for he was almost
dead of hunger and so was the bear. 5

Then the Icelander and the rich man went on, leading
the bear, until they came to King Sweyn's house. The
king greeted Auki in a friendly manner, and turning to
Audun, said, "You are a stranger to me. Pray tell me
whence you have come." 10

"I am from Iceland," answered Audun, "and have but
lately been to Greenland. My errand here is to give you
a white bear which I bought in Greenland. But my
necessities have obliged me to part with one half of the
beast, and I can only beg of you to accept the other half." 15
And then, after much questioning, he told the whole story.

The king turned to the rich man, who was standing by,
and asked, "Is this true, Auki?"

"It is, my lord," answered Auki.

Then the king was angry and sent the rich man home, 20
empty-handed and sorrowful. But he said to the Icelander,
"I thank you for the rare and wonderful gift which you
have brought me. Stay here in my house for a while."

So Audun dwelt for some time with the king's household,
and no man was more faithful, more honest, or more 25
brave than he. Many deeds of courage did he perform,
and many and worthy were his services. All men liked
him, and the king was most gracious to him; but his heart
turned always toward Iceland and his poor mother whom
he had left behind. 30

One day when the springtide was drawing on, the king
spoke to the Icelander and said: "Audun, I have never
yet given you anything for the white bear. I have a mind
to make you one of my chief officers, so that you shall
always be near me."

And Audun answered, "I thank you, my lord, with all
my heart. But far away over the northern seas there is a 5
poor woman who is my mother. I fear that by this time
she is in want; for although I left her all that I had, it
was not much. I cannot bear to sit here in ease and honor
while she has not enough to keep hunger away. And so I
have set my heart on sailing for Iceland." 10

"There speaks a good man and true," cried the king.
"You shall do as you most desire; but wait a little while
till a ship is ready."

So Audun waited. And one day when spring was at its
best, King Sweyn went with him down to the waterside, 15
where many men were busy freighting ships for foreign
lands. They walked till they came to a merchant vessel
of fine size.

"What do you think of this ship, Audun?" asked the
king. 20

"She is fine enough, surely," answered the Icelander.

"Well," said the king, "I will now repay you for the
bear. This ship and all the goods on board of it are
yours."

Audun thanked the king as well as he could. And when 25
the day came for the ship to sail, the two walked down to
the waterside again.

"I have heard much of the perils of the sea," said King
Sweyn, "and if this fair ship should be wrecked, all your
goods will doubtless be lost and little will be left to show 30
that you have met the king of Denmark."

As he said this, the king put into Audun's hand a
leather bag, full of silver, saying, "Take this, and even if
your ship goes down, you will not be entirely penniless."

Audun was so filled with gratitude that he could not
speak. But the king had still another surprise for him.
He drew a ring of gold, very costly, from his arm and put 5
it upon the arm of the Icelander.

"Take this," he said. "Even though you should lose
ship and goods and money, you will still not be penniless,
for the gold will be around your arm."

What could Audun do? What could he say? 10

The king shook his hand at parting, and said: "I have
this to ask of you: Keep the gold ring on your arm and
do not part with it on any account, unless it be to some
great man to whom you feel yourself bound to give your
best treasure in return for a great favor and much goodness. 15
And now, farewell, and may good luck follow your voyage."

Then Audun, in his fair, rich ship, put to sea.

On his way to Iceland he stopped for a time in a haven
of Norway, where he heard that King Harold was holding
his court. He was desirous of seeing the king, as he had 20
given his word.

King Harold remembered him well and received him
kindly.

"Sit here and tell me how it fared with you in Denmark,"
he said. 25

Audun told him a part of his story.

"But how did King Sweyn repay you for the white bear?"
asked Harold.

"In this wise, my lord," answered Audun: "He took it
and thanked me when I offered it." 30

"I would have repaid you as well myself," said Harold,
"What more did he give you?"

"He asked me to abide in his house, and he gave me his
friendship. He offered me still greater honor if I would
stay longer with him."

"That was good; but I would have done as much.
He must have given you something more." 5

"Yes. He gave me a merchant ship filled with rich
goods for trade in northern ports."

"That was a noble gift," said the king; "but I would
have equaled it. Did he give you anything more?"

Audun answered, "Yes, he gave me a leather bag full of 10
silver; for he said that if the ship and her cargo should be
lost in the sea, yet would I not go penniless."

"That was nobly thought of," said Harold; "and it is
more than I would have done. But what else did he give?"

Then Audun took the gold ring from his arm and put 15
it upon King Harold's arm, saying, "He gave me as a farewell
gift this priceless ring; and he bade me never to part
with it save to some great man to whom I felt myself indebted
for his goodness. And now I have found that man.
For it was in your power to take away not only the bear 20
but my life also, and yet you allowed me to go in peace to
Denmark."

The king looked at the ring and then at the man; for
both were of very great worth. "I thank you, Audun," he
said; and they had much pleasant talk before they parted.25

And when Audun at length came with his ship to Iceland,
everybody welcomed him as the luckiest man in the world; and
he made his poor mother comfortable for the rest of her life.

THE STORY OF IRON

The first of all mothers was Air, and she had three
daughters. Of these three maidens there is much
to be said. They were as lovely as the rainbow after a
storm; they were as fair as the full moon shining above
the mountains. They walked with noiseless feet among 5
the clouds and showered gifts upon the earth. They sent
the refreshing rain, the silent dew, and the nipping frost,
each in its season. They gave life to the fields, and strength
to the mountains, and grandeur to the sea. And because
of their bounty the earth was glad and the stars twinkled10
for joy.

"What more can we do to make the land fit for men to
dwell in? What other gift have we to bestow?" asked the
eldest of the sisters.

And the youngest said, "Let us send down iron—iron 15
of which tools may be made, iron of which sharp weapons
may be shaped. For without tools man will not be able
to plow, to reap, or to build; and without weapons he
cannot defend himself against the savage beasts of the
forest." 20

So when the sun was about going down, the sisters
went forth in trailing robes of purple and crimson and gold;
and in their hands they bore mighty vessels of foaming milk.
The eldest sprinkled red milk in the brooks and marshes
and along the banks of the rivers. The middle one scattered
white milk on the wooded hills and the stony mountains.
The youngest showered blue milk in the valleys
and by the gray seashore. And, on the morrow, where 5
the red milk had been sprinkled, red and brittle ore of
iron flecked the ground; where the white milk had been
scattered, powdery ore of a yellow hue abounded; and
where the blue milk had been showered, flaky masses of
crude iron, tough and dark, lay hidden beneath the soil. 10

Thus came Iron into the world—Iron, the youngest
of three brothers. Next older than he was Fire, a raging,
dangerous fellow when free, but loving and faithful when
held in bonds. Older still was Water, terrible in strength
but, when not aroused, as gentle as a mother's caress. 15

Years upon years went by, and at length one day Iron
set out to visit his brothers. He found Water at home in
the deep sea, and by him he was welcomed kindly enough.
But when he climbed a mountain to see his second brother
he had quite another reception. Fire was in a raging 20
mood. The terrible fellow leaped and roared and stretched
out his long red fingers as though he would devour his
visitor.

Iron was so terrified that he turned and fled down the
steep slopes, never stopping nor pausing to look behind. 25
He ran on, hiding in clefts and chasms, creeping under
rocks, and lurking in the dry beds of mountain torrents.
When by and by he reached the level plain, he glanced
backward. The hills and the whole mountain top were
aflame. 30

Wild with terror he hurried on, hiding himself in the
woods and under the roots of trees and resting at last in
reedy marshes where swans build their nests and wild geese
rear their young.

For ages and ages—nobody knows how many—Iron
lay hidden in bogs and forests and lonely caverns. Fear
of his raging brother made him lurk in lonely places, made5
him cover up his face. Lazy bears went ambling through
the rocky places; wolves rushed madly over the oozy
marshlands; and timid deer ran and leaped among the
trees. In time the hiding places of Iron were uncovered.
Where the paws of bears had plodded often, where the feet10
of wolves had pattered, where the sharp hoofs of deer had
trodden, there the timid metal, red, gray, yellow, black,
peeped shyly out.

At length into that same land there came a skillful Smith.
He carried a hammer of stone in one hand and tongs of 15
bronze in the other, and a song of peace was upon his lips.
On a green hillock, where the south wind blew, he built
him a smithy, and in it he placed the tools of his craft.
His anvil was a block of gray granite; his forge was carefully
built of sand and clay; his bellows was made of the 20
skins of mountain goats sewn together.

The Smith heaped live coals in his forge and blew with
his bellows until the flames leaped up, roaring and sparkling,
and the smoke rose in dense clouds over the roof of the
smithy. "This forge will do its work well," he said. Then25
he checked the bellows and smothered the flames and raked
ashes upon the fire until the red coals slumbered unseen at
the mouth of the forge.

Out into the forest the Smith wandered. Closely he
scanned the hillsides and the boggy thickets and the paths 30
among the trees. And there, where the bears had trailed
and the wolves had rushed and the deer had left their
footprints, he found ruddy Iron, dusky Iron, yellow ore
of Iron, peeping, trembling, hiding. The heart of the
Smith was glad. His eyes danced merrily, and he sang a
song of magic to the timid metal:

Iron moved not, but timidly answered, "I dare not
leave my hiding places; for Fire, my brother, waits to
devour me. He is strong and fierce. He has no pity."

The Smith shook his head and made reply, still singing:

These words made Iron feel much braver; and they
were spoken in tones so sweet and persuasive that he was
almost minded to obey without another word. But he asked,25
"Why should I leave these places where I have rested so
long? What will become of me after I have made friends
with Fire?"

Again the Smith replied to the query of Iron in a magic
song:

Hearing this, Iron came out of his lurking places and
without more ado bashfully followed the cunning Smith.
But no sooner was he in the smithy than he felt himself15
a prisoner. The tongs of bronze gripped him and thrust
him into the forge. The bellows roared, the Smith shouted,
and Fire leaped joyfully out of the ashes and threw his
arms around his helpless younger brother. And bashful,
bashful Iron turned first red and then white and finally20
became as soft as dough and as radiant as the sun.

Then the tongs of bronze drew him forth from the flames,
and twirled him in the air, and threw him upon the anvil;
and the hammer of stone beat him fiercely again and again
until he shrieked with pain.25

"Oh, spare me! spare me!" he cried. "Do not deal so
roughly with me. Let me go back to my lonely hiding
places and lie there in peace as in the days of old."

But the tongs pinched him worse than before, and the
hammer beat him still harder, and the Smith answered: 30

"Not so, not so! Be not so cowardly. We do not hurt
you; you are only frightened. Be brave and I will shape
you into things of great use to men. Be brave and you
shall rule the world."

Then in spite of Iron's piteous cries, he kept on pounding
and twisting and turning and shaping the helpless metal 5
until at length it was changed into many forms of use and
beauty—rings, chains, axes, knives, cups, and curious
tools. But it was so soft, after being thus heated and
beaten, that the edges of the tools were quickly dulled.
Try as he might, the Smith did not know how to give the 10
metal a harder temper.

One day a honeybee strolled that way. It buzzed
around the smithy and then lit on a clover blossom by the
door.

"O bee," cried the busy Smith, "you are a cunning 15
little bird, and you know some things better than I know
them. Come now, and help me temper this soft metal.
Bring me a drop of your honey; bring the sweet liquor
which you suck from the meadow flower; bring the magic
dew of the wildwood. Give me all such things that I may 20
make a mixture to harden Iron."

The bee answered not—it was too busy with its own
affairs. It gathered what honey it could from the blossom
and then flew swiftly away.

Under the eaves above the smithy door an idler was 25
sitting—a mischief-making hornet who heard every word
that the Smith said.

"I will help him make a mixture," this wicked insect
muttered. "I will help him to give Iron another temper."

Forthwith he flew to the thorny thickets and the miry 30
bogs and the fever-breeding marshes, to gather what evils
he might. Soon he returned with an arm load—the poison
of spiders, the venom of serpents, the miasmata of swamps,
the juice of the deadly nightshade. All these he cast into
the tub of water wherein the Smith was vainly trying to
temper Iron.

The Smith did not see him, but he heard him buzzing 5
and supposed it was the honeybee with sweets from the
meadow flowers.

"Thank you, pretty little bird," he said. "Now I hope
we shall have a better metal. I hope we shall make edges
that will cut and not be dulled so easily." 10

Thereupon he drew a bar of the metal, white hot, from
the forge. He held it, hissing and screeching, under the
water into which the poisons had been poured. Little
thought he of the evil that was there. He heard the hornet
humming and laughing under the eaves. 15

"Tiny honeybee," he said, "you have brought me much
sweetness. Iron tempered with your honey will be sweet
although sharp. Nothing shall be wrought of it that is
not beautiful and helpful and kind."

He drew the metal from the tub. He thrust it back 20
among the red coals. He plied the bellows and the flames
leaped up. Then, when the metal was glowing again, he
laid it on the anvil and beat it with strong, swift strokes;
and as he worked he sang:

Forthwith Iron leaped up, angry and biting and fierce.
He was not a soft and ductile metal as before, but Iron 30
hardened into tough blue steel. Showers of sparks flew
from him, snapping, burning, threatening; and from among
them sprang swords and spears and battle-axes, and daggers
keen and pointed. Out of the smithy and out through
the great world these cruel weapons raced, slashing and
clashing, thrusting and cutting, raging and killing, and 5
carrying madness among men.

The wicked hornet, idling under the eaves, rejoiced at
the mischief he had wrought. But the Smith was filled
with grief, and the music of his anvil became a jangling
discord. 10

"Oh, Iron," he cried, "it was not for this that I caused
you to leave your hiding places in the hills and bogs! The
three sisters intended that you should be a blessing to
mankind; but now I greatly fear that you will become a
curse." 15

At that moment the honeybee, laden with the sweets of
field and wood, came buzzing into the smithy. It whispered
hopefully into the ear of the Smith: "Wait until
my gifts have done their work."

THE WONDERFUL ARTISAN

By James Baldwin