The Blue Flower [6]
the elm-tree. Then I looked off to the blue hills,
shadowy and dream-like, the boundary of the little world that
I knew. And there, in a cleft between the highest peaks I saw
a wondrous thing: for the place at which I was looking seemed
to come nearer and nearer to me; I saw the trees, the rocks,
the ferns, the white road winding before me; the enfolding
hills unclosed like leaves, and in the heart of them I saw a
Blue Flower, so bright, so beautiful that my eyes filled with
tears as I looked. It was like a face that smiled at me and
promised something. Then I heard a call, like the note of a
trumpet very far away, calling me to come. And as I listened
the flower faded into the dimness of the hills."
"Did you follow it," asked Ruamie, "and did you go away from
your home? How could you do that?"
"Yes, Ruamie, when the time came, as soon as I was free,
I set out on my journey, and my home is at the end of the
journey, wherever that may be."
"And the flower," she asked, "you have seen it again?"
"Once again, when I was a youth, I saw it. After a long
voyage upon stormy seas, we came into a quiet haven, and there
the friend who was dearest to me, said good-by, for he was
going back to his own country and his father's house, but I
was still journeying onward. So as I stood at the bow of the
ship, sailing out into the wide blue water, far away among the
sparkling waves I saw a little island, with shores of silver
sand and slopes of fairest green, and in the middle of the
island the Blue Flower was growing, wondrous tall and
dazzling, brighter than the sapphire of the sea. Then the
call of the distant trumpet came floating across the water,
and while it was sounding a shimmer of fog swept over the
island and I could see it no more."
"Was it a real island," asked Ruamie. "Did you ever find
it?"
"Never; for the ship sailed another way. But once again
I saw the flower; three days before I came to Saloma. It was
on the edge of the desert, close under the shadow of the great
mountains. A vast loneliness was round about me; it seemed as
if I was the only soul living upon earth; and I longed for the
dwellings of men. Then as I woke in the morning I looked up
at the dark ridge of the mountains, and there against the
brightening blue of the sky I saw the Blue Flower standing up
clear and brave. It shone so deep and pure that the sky grew
pale around it. Then the echo of the far-off trumpet drifted
down the hillsides, and the sun rose, and the flower was
melted away in light. So I rose and travelled on till I came
to Saloma."
"And now," said the child, "you are at home with us. Will
you not stay for a long, long while? You may find the Blue
Flower here. There are many kinds in the fields. I find new
ones every day."
"I will stay while I can, Ruamie," I answered,
taking her hand in mine as we walked back to the house at
nightfall, "but how long that may be I cannot tell. For with
you I am at home, yet the place where I must abide is the
place where the flower grows, and when the call comes I must
follow it."
"Yes," said she, looking at me half in doubt, "I think I
understand. But wherever you go I hope you will find the
flower at last."
In truth there were many things in the city that troubled
me and made me restless, in spite of the sweet comfort of
Ruamie's friendship and the tranquillity of the life in
Saloma. I came to see the meaning of what the old man had
said about the shadow that rested upon his thoughts. For
there were some in the city who said that the hours of
visitation were wasted, and that it would be better to employ
the time in gathering water from the pools that formed among
the mountains in the rainy season, or in sinking wells along
the edge of the desert. Others had newly come to the city and
were teaching that there was no Source, and that the story of
the poor man who reopened it was a fable, and that the hours of
visitation were only hours of dreaming. There were many who
believed them, and many more
shadowy and dream-like, the boundary of the little world that
I knew. And there, in a cleft between the highest peaks I saw
a wondrous thing: for the place at which I was looking seemed
to come nearer and nearer to me; I saw the trees, the rocks,
the ferns, the white road winding before me; the enfolding
hills unclosed like leaves, and in the heart of them I saw a
Blue Flower, so bright, so beautiful that my eyes filled with
tears as I looked. It was like a face that smiled at me and
promised something. Then I heard a call, like the note of a
trumpet very far away, calling me to come. And as I listened
the flower faded into the dimness of the hills."
"Did you follow it," asked Ruamie, "and did you go away from
your home? How could you do that?"
"Yes, Ruamie, when the time came, as soon as I was free,
I set out on my journey, and my home is at the end of the
journey, wherever that may be."
"And the flower," she asked, "you have seen it again?"
"Once again, when I was a youth, I saw it. After a long
voyage upon stormy seas, we came into a quiet haven, and there
the friend who was dearest to me, said good-by, for he was
going back to his own country and his father's house, but I
was still journeying onward. So as I stood at the bow of the
ship, sailing out into the wide blue water, far away among the
sparkling waves I saw a little island, with shores of silver
sand and slopes of fairest green, and in the middle of the
island the Blue Flower was growing, wondrous tall and
dazzling, brighter than the sapphire of the sea. Then the
call of the distant trumpet came floating across the water,
and while it was sounding a shimmer of fog swept over the
island and I could see it no more."
"Was it a real island," asked Ruamie. "Did you ever find
it?"
"Never; for the ship sailed another way. But once again
I saw the flower; three days before I came to Saloma. It was
on the edge of the desert, close under the shadow of the great
mountains. A vast loneliness was round about me; it seemed as
if I was the only soul living upon earth; and I longed for the
dwellings of men. Then as I woke in the morning I looked up
at the dark ridge of the mountains, and there against the
brightening blue of the sky I saw the Blue Flower standing up
clear and brave. It shone so deep and pure that the sky grew
pale around it. Then the echo of the far-off trumpet drifted
down the hillsides, and the sun rose, and the flower was
melted away in light. So I rose and travelled on till I came
to Saloma."
"And now," said the child, "you are at home with us. Will
you not stay for a long, long while? You may find the Blue
Flower here. There are many kinds in the fields. I find new
ones every day."
"I will stay while I can, Ruamie," I answered,
taking her hand in mine as we walked back to the house at
nightfall, "but how long that may be I cannot tell. For with
you I am at home, yet the place where I must abide is the
place where the flower grows, and when the call comes I must
follow it."
"Yes," said she, looking at me half in doubt, "I think I
understand. But wherever you go I hope you will find the
flower at last."
In truth there were many things in the city that troubled
me and made me restless, in spite of the sweet comfort of
Ruamie's friendship and the tranquillity of the life in
Saloma. I came to see the meaning of what the old man had
said about the shadow that rested upon his thoughts. For
there were some in the city who said that the hours of
visitation were wasted, and that it would be better to employ
the time in gathering water from the pools that formed among
the mountains in the rainy season, or in sinking wells along
the edge of the desert. Others had newly come to the city and
were teaching that there was no Source, and that the story of
the poor man who reopened it was a fable, and that the hours of
visitation were only hours of dreaming. There were many who
believed them, and many more