Fairies -- Juvenile fiction; Fantasy literature; Short stories, English; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction
‘I was thinking of my journey home,’ he said, ‘and of the surprised
Beast. He had come back to the Chalk. I saw him--I smelt his lairs as
soon as ever I left the Trees. He did not know I had the Magic Knife--I
hid it under my cloak--the Knife that the Priestess gave me. Ho! Ho!
That happy day was too short! See! A Beast would wind me. “Wow!” he
would say. “Here is my Flint-worker!” He would come leaping, tail
in air; he would roll; he would lay his head between his paws out of
merriness of heart at his warm, waiting meal. He would leap--and, oh,
his eye in mid-leap when he saw--when he saw the knife held ready for
him! It pierced his hide as a rush pierces curdled milk. Often he had no
time to howl. I did not trouble to flay any beasts I killed. Sometimes
I missed my blow. Then I took my little flint hammer and beat out his
brains as he cowered. He made no fight. He knew the Knife! But The Beast
is very cunning. Before evening all The Beasts had smelt the blood on my
knife, and were running from me like hares. They knew! Then I walked as
a man should--the Master of The Beast!
‘So came I back to my Mother’s house. There was a lamb to be killed.
I cut it in two halves with my knife, and I told her all my tale. She
said, “This is the work of a God.” I kissed her and laughed. I went to
my Maiden who waited for me at the Dew-ponds. There was a lamb to be
killed. I cut it in two halves with my knife, and told her all my tale.
She said, “It is the work of a God.” I laughed, but she pushed me away,
and being on my blind side, ran off before I could kiss her. I went
to the Men of the Sheepguard at watering-time. There was a sheep to be
killed for their meat. I cut it in two halves with my knife, and told
them all my tale. They said, “It is the work of a God.” I said, “We talk
too much about Gods. Let us eat and be happy, and tomorrow I will take
you to the Children of the Night, and each man will find a Magic Knife.”
‘I was glad to smell our sheep again; to see the broad sky from edge to
edge, and to hear the sea. I slept beneath the stars in my cloak. The
men talked among themselves.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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