For this the silver fox were grateful and loved her dearly. They taught her secrets never known before by men, and from their wisdom Maiden Mata.n.u.ska learned to tell when icy winds would blow and snow begin to fall and when the grain would grow again. Maiden Mata.n.u.ska understood the songs of birds as well, and when the birds of pa.s.sage sang of other lands, where there was light of day, she listened eagerly. But when she begged these birds to sing her more, they answered her with sleepy chirps, for birds would not sing long in that dark land.

It was from these sweet songs the birds of pa.s.sage sang that Maiden Mata.n.u.ska came to know that there was such a thing as light of day. The more she heard, the more she longed to see this marvel. While she wandered in her birchen forest, she would dream bright dreams of other lands, she knew not where,--lands where ice and snow were not, but where gay flowers bloomed instead, and there was day as well as night.

"Oh, my father," said she with a sigh, "how pleasant our land would be if all the shadows and the gloom departed for a time and we had light of day as well as night."

"Ah, yes, my daughter," said King Tamna, with an answering sigh, "but how to brighten this dark land I know not. For your sake I would that I could; but for myself, I care not. Now I am growing old and soon must journey all alone to lands where light or darkness matters not."

"Oh, my father! Speak not of that time," cried Maiden Mata.n.u.ska, bursting into tears. She loved her father tenderly and knew he spoke of the time when he must die. "If you were not here with me, neither light nor darkness would matter to me, and I should be desolate and lonely."

"Then speak no more of your longing for light," replied the king. "It grieves me that I cannot give you what you most desire. But before I have departed from this life, I hope to see you wedded to some brave prince who will love you and protect you in my place."

And though Maiden Mata.n.u.ska vowed she wished no prince at all, her father gave her protests no heed. "There is a handsome youth who wears a feather mantle with whom I see you wandering in the forest. Who is he?"

King Tamna asked.

"He is Prince Kenai of the burning mountain," said the maiden. "He, too, has dreams of light and tells me wonder tales which I do love to hear."

"Prince Kenai is the poorest prince in all the Northland Kingdom," said the king; "but if his wonder tales please you, I shall say nothing."

Now, as may be supposed, there was no lack of suitors for the maiden's hand. Indeed these hundred princes of the Northland Kingdom each longed to marry her. She was the fairest maiden in the land, and moreover, she was as lovely of mind and manner as she was fair of face.

There came at last a certain night when good King Tamna sat in state to greet his tribute-bearing princes, and Maiden Mata.n.u.ska sat beside her father. In robes of purple velvet bordered deep with ermine and thickly sewn with threads of beaten gold, with golden crown and sceptre too, King Tamna looked a very king of kings,--a monarch of great state and dignity. The Maiden Mata.n.u.ska, robed in shimmering gossamer white, her golden hair, that fell about her like a cloak, crowned with a wreath of leaves, and in her hand a holly branch, looked like some angel newly come from paradise. She seemed some lovely maiden in a dream, who would perhaps take flight and float away in the encircling gloom and mists.

These hundred princes knelt before the throne and begged the lovely maiden's hand in marriage.

At this the king was troubled, for clearly Maiden Mata.n.u.ska could not wed them all, and how to choose among them he knew not. At last the royal counselors advised him in the following way:

"Now since these hundred youths be princes all, and therefore suitable in rank to wed your daughter, let Maiden Mata.n.u.ska for herself decide which one she'll wed."

When this was told, the Maiden Mata.n.u.ska sat some time in thought and then she spoke. "I'll wed the prince who brings to me the thing which I have never seen before, for which I long with all my heart, and which I shall love well."

The hundred princes then departed to their various lands and began to seek among their treasures to find the thing they thought would please the maiden. Some princes brought her toys of ivory wrought in wondrous ways, and some brought robes of doeskin, soft as satin, white as milk, embroidered all in beads of many colors. But these proved not the thing for which the maiden longed. Some princes brought her great carved silver chests, and some brought chains and bracelets made of purest gold; but none of these were what the Maiden Mata.n.u.ska wished, and all these princes failed to win their suit. So fared they all until at last there were but three to try their fate,--Prince Kathalan, Prince Katala, and Prince Kenai.

Now Prince Kathalan was the greatest warrior of all the Northland Kingdom. He had won a hundred battles and boasted that he would win a hundred more. He gloried in his warlike fame and doubted not that Maiden Mata.n.u.ska would favor him above all others.

Katala, who was wealthiest prince of all, rejoiced because his slaves had lately found a diamond mine, the like of which was never known before in all the Northland Kingdom. Prince Katala had great faith in the power of his riches and was full sure that Maiden Mata.n.u.ska would smile upon his suit.

Prince Kenai dwelt in the land of a burning mountain whose fires destroyed his forests and laid waste his lands, and the land itself, moreover, was not enriched with gold or silver or with any other metal.

Because of this, Prince Kenai was called poorest prince of all; but because in all the Northland Kingdom none other dared venture near this burning mountain, he was counted bravest prince of all.

Of these three, Prince Kathalan spoke first. "Oh, Maiden Mata.n.u.ska, Princess of the Silver Birch," cried he, "I bring to you this magic bird of battle, my raven. Black as its wings are, wise is the bird, and moreover it hath the gift of speech and prophecy. With this magic raven as my omen, no warrior can worst me in battle, and I can conquer legions. So marry me, O Maiden, and I will make you the most powerful queen the world has ever known."

The Maiden Mata.n.u.ska shook her head. "You have not guessed my meaning rightly," answered she. "I care not to be a queen of power, for such queens are unhappy, I have often heard; and I hate the thought of battle. So keep your magic raven, warrior prince. I love far better the gentle doves that flutter around me in my forest."

Prince Kathalan departed in a rage, and Prince Katala stood before the throne.

"Oh, Maiden Mata.n.u.ska, Princess of the Silver Birch," cried he, "I bring to you a golden casket filled full of gems called diamonds which you have never seen before, and which you will love well, for they are truly lovely. And these are not a thousandth part of all my wealth; so marry me, O Maiden, and I will make you the richest queen the world has ever known."

The gems within the casket flashed forth purple fire and shone like brilliant stars; but Maiden Mata.n.u.ska sighed again.

"I care not for great riches, Prince Katala," answered she, "for I have riches of my own in goodly store. As for thy diamonds,--though they be truly lovely, as you say, I should as soon love the icicles that cl.u.s.ter round my cas.e.m.e.nt in the storm. They are as hard and cold."

Prince Katala departed likewise in a rage, and Prince Kenai bowed low before the throne.

"And now what treasure do you bring to win my hand, brave prince?"

asked Maiden Mata.n.u.ska.

To which the prince replied, "I bring you none, and neither do I seek to win your hand. Your heart is what I do desire, O Maiden, for I do love you truly and would die to serve you.

"Now in your father's halls are treasures and all riches in great store.

Fair silken banners hang the walls to shut the cold drafts out; a thousand gleaming silver lamps light the way; great chests are filled full of ornaments of beaten gold, as well as many other things my eyes have not discovered. With all this wealth heaped high on every hand, if you still long for that which you have never seen, think you that in my barren land it will be found? In my land so poor that even crows forsake it?"

"Well said, brave prince," the king replied, "and if you have not treasures such as men hold dear, you have indeed a n.o.ble gift of speech.

But even so, some gift or token you must surely bring, or otherwise you had not come at all but stayed within your barren land. Come, tell us what it is."

"I bring no treasure save the treasure of a wonder tale which you will hear," said Prince Kenai, and then began to tell.

"Within my land, as well you know, there lies a burning mountain from which men flee in fear, but which I love. Now when my mountain has burst forth in flames, and tongues of fire that reach to heaven light the sky of all the world, I have seen wondrous things. I have seen other lands far distant, where ice and snow are not, but where the green gra.s.s clothes the hills and plains; where poppies shaped like golden chalices grow thick, and birds sing hour after hour. And in these pleasant lands of which I tell, there is a time of light as well as dark. This time of light lasts many hours long and is called day."

"Then tell me this, Prince Kenai," cried the king. "How comes this light of day to other lands? It comes not to this dreary realm of ours, where it would be most welcome."

"I'll tell you that," replied the prince. "There is a wondrous traveler called the Sun who high up in the clouds does journey ceaselessly about the world. He has great power over night and causes darkness to break forth in light wherever he does turn his face toward any land.

"And now farewell, good king and Maiden Mata.n.u.ska, whom I love. I go to seek the Sun and beg him to return with me and shine upon the Northland Kingdom as he does on other lands upon the earth. Then will we have the light of day as well as night, and Maiden Mata.n.u.ska will have that which she has never seen, for which she longs with all her heart, and which she will love well. Farewell."

Prince Kenai wrapped his flowing feather mantle around him and took leave of the king. The Maiden Mata.n.u.ska walked with him through her forest where the silver birches grew down to the borders of the sea, and there they parted.

"Oh, my brave prince," wept Maiden Mata.n.u.ska, "my heart cries out against your going, for since the day I met you I have loved you dearly; but I was always fearful lest my father bid me wed another because you had no fortune. Therefore I set the riddle which only you did guess. And now, may all good powers guard you on your quest and bring you safely back to me. While you are gone, the waking hours will often find me standing on this sh.o.r.e, awaiting the glad sight of your return."

"My beloved maiden!" sighed the prince. "With such sweet faith and love to bless me, I cannot fail." He rent his flowing feather mantle in two parts and wrapped a portion of it around the maiden. "I would I had a richer token for you, love," said he. "But even so; this feather mantle is no mean gift. Who wears it will be ever safe from icy blasts and snow and cold and will be ever young and fair as on the day they wore it first. Now kiss me in farewell and promise me that when I do return and bring the Sun, you'll marry me."

The Maiden Mata.n.u.ska kissed him thrice and promised, and springing into his boat, Prince Kenai sailed away. She stood upon the sh.o.r.e and blew him kisses and caresses, but soon his form was lost in darkness and the mists, and Maiden Mata.n.u.ska was left forlorn.

II

Now in those olden days, when princes journeyed around the world on errands for the maidens whom they loved, the s.p.a.ce of time they usually were gone was a year and a day. So when a year and a day had pa.s.sed, the Maiden Mata.n.u.ska often wandered through the birch wood and stood upon the border of the sea. She strained her gaze far to the south to see the sight of any sail; but Prince Kenai came not.

She asked the birds of pa.s.sage if they had seen her prince, and sometimes they had news of him. "Oh, tell me, ye wild Gulls, of the wild skies," she asked, "do you know aught of my brave Prince Kenai? He wears a feather robe like mine and seeks in lands afar to find the Sun for me."

"Ah, yes," replied the Gulls. "We've seen a prince so dressed, and he was sailing westward on the sea and seemed to seek the Sun."

"And found he what he sought?" cried Maiden Mata.n.u.ska eagerly.

"Alas!" the Gulls replied. "The truth is, he did not. For many evenings when the day was done, we saw this prince sail westward. He hoped to meet the sun just where the sky bends down to meet the sea, but though he sailed for days and days, the place he sought seemed sailing too, and so he reached it not."

"That is sad news," the maiden sighed. "But when again you see my prince, tell him that all my thoughts are his, and I am sure he cannot fail."

Another time she asked a Kite-bird had he seen Prince Kenai.

"Oh, yes, dear maiden," the Kite-bird made reply. "And he was in the Southland, whither he had gone to seek the Sun. But he was worn and wearied with much wandering, and the road was long; and by the time he reached there, the Sun had long departed on his journey to the Eastland."