“After that,” continued the North Wind, “the hunting commenced. The
harpoon was flung into the breast of the walrus, so that a smoking stream of
blood spurted forth like a fountain, and besprinkled the ice. Then I thought
of my own game; I began to blow, and set my own ships, the great icebergs
sailing, so that they might crush the boats. Oh, how the sailors howled and
cried out! but I howled louder than they. They were obliged to unload their
cargo, and throw their chests and the dead walruses on the ice. Then I
sprinkled snow over them, and left them in their crushed boats to drift
southward, and to taste salt water. They will never return to Bear’s Island.”
“So you have done mischief,” said the mother of the Winds.
“I shall leave others to tell the good I have done,” he replied. “But here
comes my brother from the West; I like him best of all, for he has the smell
of the sea about him, and brings in a cold, fresh air as he enters.”
“Is that the little Zephyr?” asked the prince.
“Yes, it is the little Zephyr,” said the old woman; “but he is not little now.
In years gone by he was a beautiful boy; now that is all past.”
He came in, looking like a wild man, and he wore a slouched hat to
protect his head from injury. In his hand he carried a club, cut from a
mahogany tree in the American forests, not a trifle to carry.
“Whence do you come?” asked the mother.
“I come from the wilds of the forests, where the thorny brambles form
thick hedges between the trees; where the water-snake lies in the wet grass,
and mankind seem to be unknown.”
“What were you doing there?”
“I looked into the deep river, and saw it rushing down from the rocks.
The water drops mounted to the clouds and glittered in the rainbow. I saw
the wild buffalo swimming in the river, but the strong tide carried him away
amidst a flock of wild ducks, which flew into the air as the waters dashed
onwards, leaving the buffalo to be hurled over the waterfall. This pleased
