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The Buried Moon
"LONG ago,
in my grandmother's time, the Carland was all in bogs, great
pools of black water, and creeping trickles of green water,
and squishy mools which squirted when you stepped on them.
Well, granny used to say how long
before her time the Moon herself was once dead and buried in
the marshes, and as she used to tell me, I'll tell you all
about it.
The Moon up yonder shone and
shone, just as she does now, and when she shone she lighted up
the bog-pools, so that one could walk about almost as safe as
in the day.
But when she didn't shine, out
came the Things that dwelt in the darkness and went about
seeking to do evil and harm; Bogies and Crawling Horrors, all
came out when the Moon didn't shine.
Well, the Moon heard of this, and
being kind and good -- as she surely is, shining for us in the
night instead of taking her natural rest -- she was main
troubled. 'I'll see for myself, I will,' said she, 'maybe it's
not so bad as folks make out.'
Sure enough, at the month's end
down she stept, wrapped up in a black cloak, and a black hood
over her yellow shining hair. Straight she went to the bog
edge and looked about her. Water here and water there; waving
tussocks and trembling mools, and great black snags all twisted
and bent. Before her all was dark -- dark but for the glimmer of the
stars in the pools, and the light that came from her own white
feet, stealing out of her black cloak.
The Moon drew her cloak faster
about and trembled, but she wouldn't go back without seeing
all there was to be seen; so on she went, stepping as light as
the wind in summer from tuft to tuft between the greedy
gurgling water-holes. Just as she came near a big black pool
her foot slipped and she was nigh tumbling in. She grabbed with both
hands at a snag near by to steady herself with, but as she
touched it, it twined itself round her wrists, like a pair of
handcuffs, and gript her so that she couldn't move. She pulled
and twisted and fought, but it was no good. She was fast, and
must stay fast.
Presently as she stood trembling
in the dark, wondering if help would come, she heard something
calling in the distance, calling, calling, and then dying
away with a sob, till the marshes were full of this pitiful
crying sound; then she heard steps floundering along, squishing
in the mud and slipping on the tufts, and through the darkness she saw
a white face with great feared eyes.
'Twas a man strayed in the bogs.
Mazed with fear, he struggled on towards the flickering light
that looked like help and safety. And when the poor Moon saw
that he was coming nigher and nigher to the deep hole, further
and further from the path, she was so mad and so sorry that
she struggled and fought and pulled harder than ever. And though she
couldn't get loose, she twisted and turned, till her black
hood fell back off her shining yellow hair, and the beautiful
light that came from it drove away the darkness.
Oh, but the man cried with joy to
see the light again. And at once all evil things fled back
into the dark corners, for they cannot abide the light. So he
could see where he was, and where the path was, and how he
could get out of the marsh. And he was in such haste to get
away from the Quicks, and Bogles, and Things that dwelt there, that
he scarce looked at the brave light that came from the beautiful
shining yellow hair, streaming out over the black cloak and
falling to the water at his feet. And the Moon herself was so
taken up with saving him, and with rejoicing that he was back
on the right path, that she clean forgot that she needed help
herself, and that she was held fast by the Black Snag.
So off he went; spent and gasping,
and stumbling and sobbing with joy, flying for his life out
of the terrible bogs. Then it came over the Moon she would
main like to go with him. So she pulled and fought as if she
were mad, till she fell on her knees, spent with tugging, at
the foot of the snag. And as she lay there, gasping for breath, the
black hood fell forward over her head. So out went the blessed
light and back came the darkness, with all its Evil Things,
with a screech and a howl. They came crowding round her,
mocking and snatching and beating; shrieking with rage and
spite, and swearing and snarling, for they knew her for their
old enemy, that drove them back into the corners, and kept them
from working their wicked wills.
'Drat thee!' yelled the witch-bodies, 'thou'st spoiled our spells this year agone!'
'And us thou sent'st to brood in the corners!' howled the Bogles.
And all the Things joined in with a
great 'Ho, ho!' till the very tussocks shook and the water
gurgled. And they began again.
'We'll poison her -- poison her!' shrieked the witches.
And 'Ho-ho!' howled the Things again.
'We'll smother her -- smother her!' whispered the Crawling Horrors, and twined themselves round her knees.
And 'Ho, ho!' mocked the rest of them.
And again they all shouted with
spite and ill will. And the poor Moon crouched down, and
wished she was dead and done with.
And they fought and squabbled what
they should do with her, till a pale grey light began to come
in the sky; and it drew nigh the dawning. And when they saw
that, they were feared lest they shouldn't have time to work
their will; and they caught hold of her, with horrid bony
fingers, and laid her deep in the water at the foot of the snag.
And the Bogles fetched a strange big stone and rolled it on top of
her, to keep her from rising. And they told two of the
Will-o-the-wykes to take turns in watching on the black snag,
to see that she lay safe and still, and couldn't get out to
spoil their sport.
And there lay the poor Moon, dead
and buried in the bog, till someone would set her loose, and
who'd know where to look for her.
Well, the days passed, and 'twas
the time for the new moon's coming, and the folk put pennies
in their pockets and straws in their caps so as to be ready
for her, and looked about, for the Moon was a good friend to
the marsh folk, and they were main glad when the dark time was
gone, and the paths were safe again, and the Evil Things were
driven back by the blessed Light into the darkness and the water-holes.
But days and days passed, and the
new Moon never came, and the nights were aye dark, and the
Evil Things were worse than ever. And still the days went on,
and the new Moon never came. Naturally the poor folk were
strangely feared and mazed, and a lot of them went to the Wise
Woman who dwelt in the old mill, and asked if so be she could find
out where the Moon was gone.
'Well,' said she, after looking in
the brewpot, and in the mirror, and in the Book, 'it be main
queer, but I can't rightly tell ye what's happened to her. If
ye hear of aught, come and tell me.'
So they went their ways; and as
days went by, and never a Moon came, naturally they talked --
my word! I reckon they did talk! Their tongues wagged at home,
and at the inn, and in the garth. But so came one day, as
they sat on the great settle in the inn, a man from the far
end of the bog lands was smoking and listening, when all at once he
sat up and slapped his knee. 'My faicks!' says he, 'I'd clean
forgot, but I reckon I kens where the Moon be!' and he told
them of how he was lost in the bogs, and how, when he was nigh
dead with fright, the light shone out, and he found the path
and got home safe.
So off they all went to the Wise
Woman, and told her about it, and she looked long in the pot
and the Book again, and then she nodded her head.
'It's dark still, childer, dark!'
says she, 'and I can't rightly see, but do as I tell ye, and
ye'll find out for yourselves. Go all of ye, just afore the
night gathers, put a stone in your mouth, and take a
hazel-twig in your hands, and say never a word till you're safe
home again. Then walk on and fear not, far into the midst of the
marsh, till ye find a coffin, a candle, and a cross. Then
ye'll not be far from your Moon; look, and m'appen ye'll find
her.'
So came the next night in the
darklings, out they went all together, every man with a stone
in his mouth, and a hazel-twig in his hand, and feeling, thou
may'st reckon, main feared and creepy. And they stumbled and
stottered along the paths into the midst of the bogs; they saw
naught, though they heard sighings and flutterings in their ears,
and felt cold wet fingers touching them; but all at once, looking
around for the coffin, the candle, and the cross, while they
came nigh to the pool beside the great snag, where the Moon
lay buried. And all at once they stopped, quaking and mazed
and skeery, for there was the great stone, half in, half out
of the water, for all the world like a strange big coffin; and
at the head was the black snag, stretching out its two arms in a dark
gruesome cross, and on it a tiddy light flickered, like a dying
candle. And they all knelt down in the mud, and said, 'Our
Lord', first forward, because of the cross, and then backward,
to keep off the Bogles; but without speaking out, for they
knew that the Evil Things would catch them if they didn't do
as the Wise Woman told them.
Then they went nigher, and took
hold of the big stone, and shoved it up, and afterwards they
said that for one tiddy minute they saw a strange and
beautiful face looking up at them glad-like out of the black
water; but the Light came so quick and so white and shining, that
they stept back mazed with it, and the very next minute, when they
could see again, there was the full Moon in the sky, bright
and beautiful and kind as ever, shining and smiling down at
them, and making the bogs and the paths as clear as day, and
stealing into the very corners, as though she'd have driven
the darkness and the Bogles clean away if she could."
Thank you for sharing this story. I love these old tales. The coffin, the cross and the candle would be good for an eclipse ritual, don't you think?
ReplyDeleteI do think so! Glad you liked it!
ReplyDelete