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 Richard Van Camp
Richard Van Camp
AA
ABlanket
Blanketof
Blanket ofButterflies
of Butterfliesexplores
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explores thejourney
the journeyof
journey ofShinobu,
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A Blanket
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who
whovisits
who visitsFort
visits FortSmith,
Fort Smith,NWT,
Smith, NWT,to
NWT, toretrieve
to retrievehis
retrieve hisfamily’s
his family’ssamurai
family’s samuraisuit
samurai suitof
suit ofarmor
of armorand
armor and
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sword
swordfrom
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local museum.When
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been lostin
lost inaaapoker
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retrieve withthe
with thehelp
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and hisgrandmother.
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unexpected realization.
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illustrated byScott
by ScottB.
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andof
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world. Richard
RichardVan
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SC 215656-2 CC2015.indd 1 Spine 2015-10-02 9:26 AM

The red line shows where we will trim

 A Blanket
of Butterflies
Richard Van Camp

Illustrated by
Scott B. Henderson

25326-PM-BoB-interior.indd 1 2015-09-25 2:58 PM

 © 2015 by Richard Van Camp

Excerpts from this publication may be reproduced under licence from Access Copyright, or with the express
written permission of HighWater Press, or as permitted by law.

All rights are otherwise reserved, and no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning,
recording or otherwise, except as specifically authorized.

Acknowledgments: A Blanket of Butterflies could not have been written without the guidance and grace of the
following people: Marie-Christine Aubrey, Shelagh Rogers, Dr. Robert Somerville, Larry Lee, my wife, Keavy
Martin and our son, Edzazii Van Camp. James Croizier, mahsi cho for sharing with me the story about a real
samurai suit of armor at the Northern Life Museum and Cultural Centre in our hometown of Fort Smith,
NWT. Scott B. Henderson, your work astonishes me. Working with you is magic. I am so very grateful to
you all for guiding me in this journey. Mahsi cho!

— RVC

HighWater Press is an imprint of Portage & Main Press.

Printed and bound in Canada by Friesens

Print ISBN: 978-1-55379-548-3

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Van Camp, Richard, 1971-, author

A blanket of butterflies / written by Richard Van Camp ; illustrated
by Scott B. Henderson.

ISBN 978-1-55379-721-0

1. Graphic novels. I. Henderson, Scott B., illustrator II. Title.

PN6733.V36B53 2015 j741.5’971 C2015-905570-9

HighWater Press gratefully acknowledges for their financial support of the Government of Canada through
the Canada Book Fund, the Canada Council for the Arts, the Manitoba Book Publishing Tax Credit, and the
Manitoba Department of Culture, Heritage, & Tourism.

Exceptional Indigenous Writing from Across Canada

100-318 McDermot Avenue

Winnipeg, MB R3A 0A2

Toll-Free: 1-800-667-9673
www.highwaterpress.com

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25326-PM-BoB-interior.indd 1 2015-09-25 2:58 PM
 A Blanket
of Butterflies

25326-PM-BoB-interior.indd 2 2015-09-25 2:58 PM

Other documents randomly have
different content
 Eventually he would have been consigned to the workhouse
school until he had arrived at an age when he might possibly have
been able to learn something, at which moment this would very
properly have been prevented by his being transferred to the
enlivening employment of rook-keeping, from which he would have
gradually risen to the position of a day-labourer upon some
neighbouring farm, unless he had evinced sufficient intellectual
ability to have aspired to the rank and dignity of “waggoner’s mate.”
This brilliant career, however, was not open to our hero in the
benighted days of which I speak. This being so, he not unnaturally
did something else. He disappeared from the eyes of the world in a
manner which would have been perfectly marvellous if there had
been anybody who cared to marvel at it. This, however, was not the
case.
The venerable Druid who had sacrificed the child’s father took no
trouble about the child, though he would probably have sacrificed
him too with the greatest pleasure had any hint been given him
upon the subject. The people who had permitted and sanctioned the
deed never gave a thought to the infant who had thereby been left
destitute. Public opinion was not in existence, and as this island had
not then, as it has now, what is popularly called “the blessing of a
Free Press,” the attention of the neighbourhood was not called to
such trifling occurrences. So Smith’s father perished and Smith
disappeared, without notice or remark from anybody. What really
happened to the lad is known, of course, to me, and is sufficiently
laughable. He wandered into the forest, and became the friend and
companion of the toads, for which Windsor has always been famous.
Now, although mortals are not generally aware of the fact, it is
well known, brother, to you and me, that toads are among the
wisest and most intelligent of animals. They may be called ugly by
those who only judge of character and worth by the standard of that
beauty which is after all but skin-deep; they may be termed slimy
and unpleasant by those who cannot see below the surface; they
may even be deemed stupid by people who are unable to discern
the intellectual vigour which shines forth in the extraordinary
brightness of the eye of a well-bred toad. But, as we know full well,
a toad is one of the most powerful of created beings in his
knowledge of magic and of hidden art. How many are the buried
treasures over which a toad sits as guardian, laughing to himself at
the busy mortals above who would give their eyes and ears to
possess that which is really within their reach if they did but know it!
And, apart from this peculiar point of view, how happy the life of a
well-regulated toad!—how simple his tastes; how free from care his
heart, how tranquil his existence, so long as he is permitted to enjoy
it without being stamped upon by the cruel heel of mortal, or
swallowed by the voracious mouth of snake. With the toads of the
forest, then, Smith made his home; and often did I see him in those
old days, sporting with his strange playmates among the roots of the
gigantic trees which grew down to my very water’s edge, sometimes
playing leap-frog, at other moments hopping races, and not
unfrequently reclining by the side of one of the worthy toads, his
arm thrown around it, and its body serving as a resting-place for his
infant head and shoulders.
From these strange instructors did little Smith receive an
education which fitted him for the career which he had chalked out
for himself. From them he learned more than ordinary mortals could
have taught him; and meanwhile the wholesome and quiet life which
he led in the forest caused him to increase daily in bodily strength,
so that he bid fair to rival Hercules before he arrived at manhood.
 Original Size -- Medium-Size

All this time the Boar continued to pursue his ravages unchecked
and unmolested, and had become more than ever the terror of the
surrounding country. In vain did the Druids denounce him: the more
they cursed the more he seemed to prosper, and the whole
framework of society was shaken by this terrible animal, The effect,
moreover, throughout the whole island, was the reverse of
agreeable.
We have noticed, in the struggles of mankind for supremacy, that
when one particular nation has obtained, whether by good fortune
or good organization, great military successes, it sometimes happens
that the citizens of that nation become puffed up and insolent
beyond measure, considering that the mere fact of belonging to that
victorious country stamps a man (however intellectually poor or
morally imbecile) as something superior to his fellow-creatures, and
gives him a right to be as rude and disagreeable as he pleases. Such
was at this time the precise result of the Boar’s undiminished power.
Every pig in the island thought himself far superior to any other
animal. The insolence of Pigdom became rapidly intolerable; these
unpleasant animals thrust their snouts into everybody else’s dish,
and England was threatened with a porcine yoke which would
inevitably have interfered with that great future which she was
destined to achieve in afteryears. However, England has never been
without her Smith in the hour of danger, and this, the first individual
of that illustrious name, set the example which his descendants,
have so often followed.
Having formed the noble determination to free his country or
perish in the attempt, he next determined to avoid the latter
alternative if he possibly could. The manner in which he should
proceed required, indeed, his most careful consideration. Instructed
as he had been in magic arts by the excellent toads, he knew full
well that he had to cope with an adversary who was said to be able
to fight with the same weapons. Caution, therefore, as well as skill,
was certainly necessary, and his first object was to discover the
extent of the enemy’s power, and whether there existed any means
by which it could be lessened. To do this, however, it was necessary
to employ some spy to obtain intelligence upon which reliance might
be placed.
No mortal had ever dared to penetrate the lair of the great Boar;
and those who wished to hear him grunt had never ventured to do
more than creep, with stealthy step and timorous aspect, on the
outer verge of the great thicket which he had been seen to enter
after his marauding excursions. Nor, indeed, was it easy to find any
four-footed animal who would undertake the task. The wolves and
foxes, of which there were a very great number in Windsor Forest,
respectfully but firmly declined; the hares and rabbits squeaked and
ran away at the very idea; and the stoats and weasels declared that
it was no business of theirs, and they could not interfere in such
matters. Then there were the birds; but these simple creatures have
always had a horror of magic and witchcraft, and there was nothing
to be done with them. The tender wood-pigeons coo’d out their
reluctance to dabble with anything which was not pure and holy and
loving; the robin pretended not to hear, and sang his morning hymn
with a provoking vehemence whilst Smith was accosting him; the
owl shook her head gravely and gave vent to a low hoot of
determined refusal; while the gaudy jays flew away laughing and
shrieking in a most impertinent manner, which left no hope of their
compliance.
Thus baffled in his first attempt, Smith once more consulted the
toads, and asked the oldest and wisest of them for his advice, which
was promptly given. “The Foul Swine,” said he, “is not the great
magician which he pretends. His tusks are long and his years many,
but there are those within and without the forest more powerful
than he. Your task is certainly one of some difficulty. Nevertheless,
there is an ancient proverb well known among us toads which will be
of great use to you, and which we are bound never to repeat to
mortal ear save under certain conditions. The first of these is, that
the mortal to whom we may repeat it must have passed at least half
his life with our own people, and have learned to speak the toad
language like a native. As you have now passed considerably more
than the prescribed period among us, and (except perhaps as
regards spitting) are in all respects a regular toad, this first condition
has evidently been fulfilled in your case. The second condition
requires that the person to whom the proverb shall be imparted
must have rendered service to the toad people by killing at least
twenty of our natural enemies, the snakes. This service you have yet
to perform. The third condition simply stipulates that the individual
in question shall bind himself by the most solemn oath known to
toads—namely, by the eyes of the two golden toads which sit day
and night at the foot of the throne of the Emperor of China—that he
will set himself strenuously to perform the task to which the proverb
alludes. About this you will probably find no difficulty, and therefore
it is really only with the second condition that you need trouble
yourself at all.”
Smith listened with great attention to the remarks made by his
ancient friend, and lost no time in qualifying himself to be the
recipient of the desired information by destroying the requisite
number of snakes. That very evening his art as a snake-charmer was
so successfully practised, that more than fifty of the creatures lay
twisting and writhing in front of the toads’ favourite trees, and were
presently dispatched by vigorous blows from the stalwart arm of
Smith.

Original Size -- Medium-Size

This feat having been performed, he requested the venerable toad

to impart the proverb upon which so much might depend. The
worthy old gentleman was nothing loath, and, having given an
exulting croak over the bodies of his slain foemen, spat twice in the
air for joy, and proceeded to administer the toad-oath, which
pledged Smith to strive his utmost to perform some task as yet
unknown. Great, however, was his delight at finding that this task
was none other than the very one to which he had already
determined to devote his life, namely, the destruction of the Great
Boar. And thus ran the proverb:—

“Blood of slayer and of slain

Must together blended be
Ere the Boar’s detested reign
Cease, and Windsor shall be free.”
 These words having been pronounced by the toad with due
solemnity, he again went through the apparently unnecessary, not to
say unpleasant, process of spitting twice, after which he quietly
subsided, and crept under a large root, with a view to a long nap,
which might last for a day, a year, or a century, as the humour took
him.
Smith now set himself seriously to consider what should be done,
and what was the exact meaning of the proverb. It was his earnest
wish that the “detested reign” of the Boar should cease as soon as
possible, but what the blending together of the blood of the slayer
and the slain could possibly mean was an exceedingly hard puzzle,
and one which he knew not how to unravel. As, however, he was
bound to do his best to perform the task to the accomplishment of
which he had pledged himself, he determined to sally forth from the
forest and endeavour to seek the aid which the birds and beasts
within it were unable to afford him. Accordingly, he marched back
into society, which, if not precisely civilised, was somewhat different
from that of the toads and other creatures who had for the best part
of his life been his only companions. Had he lived some years later,
there can be little doubt that his reappearance would have created
considerable surprise, and his costume would have been in singular
contrast with that of ordinary men. As, however, at that period of
the island’s history, men wore very little costume at all beyond that
which nature had bestowed upon them, this was no difficulty in the
way of our hero’s return. Moreover, the education given him by the
toads had been so vastly superior to that which he would have
received at the hands of his fellow-men, that there was nothing
strange, uncouth, or remarkable either in his speech or manners,
which, in fact, contrasted favourably with those of the human beings
whom he was likely to meet.
In those days the villages were small and the dwellings
comparatively few and far between. The country upon the borders of
the forest presented a barren and miserable appearance, mainly in
consequence of the extreme poverty of its inhabitants, who were
deterred from the agricultural pursuits which they would otherwise
have followed by the constant ravages of the cruel Boar. It was,
therefore, a rare thing to see many people in that part of the
country, and Smith, had he known it, would have been surprised at
the number he saw as he strode forward on his way. As, however, he
had been so long in the forest as to have forgotten the usual habits
of the peasantry outside, he was not astonished at all, and saw
without wonder that people were hurrying along in the same
direction as himself from every quarter. It struck him as rather
strange that they should all be going the same way, and, being
desirous ol knowing the reason why, he took the not unnatural
course of asking a peasant woman whom he overtook. “Do you not
know?” she replied. “Are you a stranger in the country, not to have
heard that the great Druidess Bertha sacrifices to-day on Ascot
Heath?”
“I knew it not,” returned Smith, and followed up his answer by an
inquiry as to who the great Druidess Bertha might be. The peasant
woman appeared to be quite shocked at his ignorance, but, with the
gossiping propensity which occasionally besets the weaker portion of
her sex, began instantly to impart to him all she knew and a good
deal more.
Bertha, it seemed, was a person whose origin was shrouded in
mystery. She had been educated by the Druids, and brought up as a
female priestess of that reverend society. Although still young, she
was supposed to have attained to great sanctity, and was immensely
venerated by the peasantry. One thing alone distinguished her from
the other Druids, namely, her unconquerable objection to human
sacrifice; and Smith found, on further inquiry, that to-day’s ceremony
was to consist only of the slaughter of oxen and sheep, and the
offering of corn and fruits to the deities, whose aid was to be once
more invoked against the tyranny of the Great Boar of Windsor. The
account which he had heard made our hero more than ever desirous
to witness the ceremony and to see the Druidess, and he accordingly
followed the crowd to the sacred heath upon which it was to take
place.
 Ascot Heath was at that time somewhat different from its present
condition. You remember, Brother Rhine, when you were last in
England, what a sight we saw together in that celebrated locality. All
London seemed to have emptied itself upon Windsor and its
neighbourhood. The heath was thronged with excited crowds.
Hundreds upon hundreds of carts, gigs, and carriages of every
description crowded one upon the other, and you owned that
Rhineland had nothing to equal our Ascot week. Very different was
the condition of things at the time of which I speak. I need hardly
tell you that there was no “grand stand” in those days; the “ring”
was as yet unknown; “Aunt Sally” was not, and never a gipsy had as
yet appeared in the country. But the heath was wide and wild, rough
and rugged, a fit place for the enactment of any such strange rites
as those which his companion had led Smith to anticipate. He
pushed boldly forward until he reached a spot from whence he could
view the ceremony.
On the very edge of the forest, beneath a gigantic oak, upon a
piece of rising ground, stood a figure upon which he, in common
with every one else around him, riveted his eyes with the most
intense interest and attention. It was a woman of more than
ordinary height, clothed from head to foot in white drapery, her hair
failing loosely upon her shoulders, with a simple chaplet of oak-
leaves over her forehead. Her features were such as impelled you to
look a second time after you had once gazed upon her. Nobility was
stamped upon her brow. Courage, truth, and every other virtue
which ennobles those of mortal mould were imprinted upon the
lineaments of that countenance. Erect she stood, gazing down upon
the peasant crowd below; and while her right hand held the sickle
with which she had been performing some of the mystic rites of her
order, her left arm was far outstretched as she pointed in the
direction of that part of the forest in which the mighty Boar had
made his home.
 Original Size -- Medium-Size

It was evident to Smith that the sacrifice, whatever it that not one
word should escape him; and as all the people seemed animated by
the same desire, a solemn and almost awful silence prevailed
throughout the whole crowd. Then the Druidess spoke; her words
fell clear and shrill upon the ears of her audience like the clarion
notes of the trumpet which calls forth hosts to battle, and they
pierced at once to the heart of Smith as they rang through the
startled air. And thus spoke the Druidess:—

“Men of Britain’s Holy Isle,

Spiritless and idle still
Rest ye here, and all the while
Forest demons work their will?

Barren lie your hungry fields,

Yielding nought for human food,
While your spirit tamely yields
To the Tyrant of the Wood.

Hear the Future! To the gods

While libations Druids pour,
Britain’s Oak to ruin nods,
Rotten to the very core!

Craven spirits fear and hide

From the devastating foe.
Can the gods be satisfied
With a race of cowards? No!

What the mighty gods inspire

Bertha to her race imparts.
Hear ye all! the gods require
Stalwart arms and valiant hearts.

All the blood of victims slain

Never can your country save,
Till that country you sustain
With the daring of the brave.

Yet are ye no craven race;

If yourselves ye learn’d to know,
Never would ye turn your face
From the coming of the foe.

Ah! the spirit moves me now,

Ancient spirit of the oak;
'Neath its mighty spell I bow,
Hear the words the gods evoke!

'Mid the throng I see below

Stands a man of courage true,
And I see a light I know
Flashing from his eye of blue.

'Tis the light of valiant strength,

And its flash reveals to me
That the hour is near at length
When my people shall be free;

Free from terror and from yoke

Of the sanguinary Boar.
Let the hero strike the stroke;
Ye are free for evermore!”

The Priestess pronounced her last words with such intense

animation, as if inspired by some supernatural power, that they
produced a wondrous effect upon those to whom they were
addressed. Indeed, it was not only her manner of speaking, but the
matter of the words to which she gave utterance, which was well
calculated to excite the people. Bowed down and dispirited for years
under a great misfortune, they suddenly heard that deliverance was
at hand, and that he by whom it might be wrought was actually
standing among them at that moment. The greatest excitement,
therefore, naturally prevailed, and a low murmur of mingled joy,
surprise, and awe ran through the crowd.
 The Druidess, meanwhile, stood still as a stone statue upon the
hillock under the oak, gazing forward with eyes, fixed upon vacancy
as if she were reading far into the Book of the Future, under the
influence of some mighty spell. Her appearance, as of one in a
trance, increased the reverential awe of the superstitious people,
who remained for a few moments in a state of increasing doubt and
wonder. Then some of them gathered courage and found voice to
express the dearest wish of their hearts. “Holy Bertha!” they cried.
“Sacred Maiden! Tell us who is our deliverer. Who is he that shall
strike the stroke for our freedom? Where is he? How shall we find
him?” And, as he spoke, the people pressed forward eagerly as near
to the sacred hillock as their dread of the maiden’s sanctity would
permit them to approach. With an imperious gesture she waved
them back, and then, passing her hand across her brow, as if to
brush away the trance which still partially obscured her vision for
things present, she uttered the following words in a low and hurried
tone:—

“The strength of a god and the skill of a toad

Unite in the man who shall Windsor deliver;
His name shall be hallow’d in every abode,
And henceforth shall be known in old England for ever!”

These words, although they possibly went but a very little way
towards giving to the inquiring crowd the information they so
anxiously desired, were of course very intelligible to Smith, even
without the aid of any of that magic knowledge which he had
acquired from his forest teachers. He was now certain, beyond all
reasonable doubt, that the Druidess referred to him as the deliverer
from the Great Boar, and that, having committed herself to such a
prophecy, she and the priests of her order would, for their own
sakes if for no better reason, do their very best to secure its
fulfilment. But I am bound to say that other thoughts also occupied
the breast of our hero. From the very first moment that he had set
eyes upon the Druidess he had been struck with wondrous
admiration. There was something in her appearance so majestic, so
noble, and at the same time so winning, that the heart of Smith
throbbed with new emotions, nor did he cease to gaze earnestly at
the sacred maiden during the whole time of her discourse. In fact, I
believe that, almost unconsciously to himself, a fervent desire that
Bertha the Druidess should become Mrs. Smith took possession of
our hero’s soul, and he fell a hopeless victim to “Love at first sight”
without being aware of the fact.
Any friendly feeling, moreover, which might have been suggested
by the outward appearance of the holy maid was tenfold increased
when her words gave evidence that she was ready to help his
accomplishment of that great object to which he had devoted his
life. To be singled out from the crowd for praise, compliment, and
prophecy of future distinction is an honour of which any man may be
proud under general circumstances; but when the person who
singles you out happens to be young and lovely, the flattery is not
unfrequently of double sweetness, and tends to evoke a feeling
which, if it takes its origin in gratitude, is not unlikely to become
something warmer. Be this as it may, Smith felt towards the young
Druidess as he had never felt before, and was by no means sorry
that the circumstances in which he found himself rendered it
absolutely necessary that he should seek a private interview with her
as soon as possible. For, as no one but he himself could know that
her words referred unmistakably to him, it was unlikely that he
would be recognised as a leader or clothed with any authority unless
some further steps were taken in the matter.
After having pronounced the last words, Bertha had hastily
retreated behind the oak, and there was little chance that she would
show herself again upon that occasion.. But Smith had underrated
both the foresight of the Druidess and the intelligence of her
hearers. Many of these had observed the presence amongst them of
an entire stranger, and as, from a very early period of their history,
Britons have been tolerably good hands at “putting two and two
together,” they had arrived at the conclusion that this individual was
extremely likely to be the deliverer whom the Priestess had declared
she saw amid the throng below.
 In those days, bashful modesty was not, as now, the characteristic
of a British crowd. Instinctively they pressed around the stranger,
and addressed to him several observations which savoured more of
curiosity than politeness. They were good-natured, to be sure, as
British crowds are even to the present day; but not recognising in
him at once the qualities which had been so easily perceptible to the
inspired Bertha, they questioned him familiarly and as one of
themselves. It was not long, however, before their manner changed.
Smith told them plainly that he came from the forest, that toads and
toad-mysteries were known to him, and that so far at least he
answered to the description which they had lately heard as that of
their deliverer.
As they listened to his words, the respect of the simple rustics for
the speaker greatly increased; his answers were whispered from one
to the other, and there appeared a general disposition to welcome
him as their leader, if leader indeed there was to be. Seeing that the
opportunity was favourable, but yet too cautious to push matters far
upon the first onset, Smith begged the crowd to disperse, but
promised that, if they were of the same mind three days hence, he
would meet them upon the heath at that time. To this they agreed;
and having with some difficulty escaped from sundry loiterers who
followed him, gaping and staring as if he had been some newly
discovered monster, our hero returned to the forest and reported his
adventures to his friends the toads. The latter listened with much
satisfaction to his account of all that had happened, and gave him
valuable advice as to his future proceedings. In accordance with
their instructions, he again journeyed to the oak of Ascot Heath
upon the next evening, and sought an interview with the Priestess
upon whom his hopes were centred.
Interviews with Druidesses were not, in those days, very easy of
accomplishment, and were not unattended with danger. For, if the
Druids did not happen to approve, and did happen to discover the
fact, the culprit stood an excellent chance of being speedily
sacrificed. Smith, however, had no fear, and, as is proverbially the
case, fortune favoured the brave. He met the holy maiden walking in
the forest before he reached the oak. I really cannot tell you exactly
what passed at the interview, but I know it resulted (as such
interviews not unfrequently do) in the appointment of another. This
also took place without any obstacle arising, and the result was that,
when the time appointed for the reassembling of the people had
arrived, Smith’s plans were pretty well matured.
Standing near the sacred oak, he addressed the crowd before him
in brief but energetic words. He pointed out to them the misery
which their country had so long endured through the ravages of the
Great Boar. He declared that the thing, was intolerable, and that it
only rested with themselves to put an end to it by a great and united
effort. He professed himself willing to lead them if they would only
engage to follow him, and was confident that, if he were obeyed, all
would go well. If, indeed, they had any doubt about his being a fit
person to lead them, let them only say so and he would at once
yield to another. These words were received with much favour by
many of his audience, but some of the more timid and doubtful still
hesitated as to their course, when suddenly a voice spoke from the
old oak in words of unmistakable import:—

“This is the man and this the hour

To break the tyrant’s hateful power.
No longer, Englishmen, delay;
Choose—listen—follow—and obey!”

These words at once reassured every one, and effectually settled

the question. Smith was unanimously elected leader, and, like other
leaders, proceeded at once to declare his policy. He told his followers
that the first thing to be done was to make a good road right into
the heart of the forest. People are apt to magnify dangers about
which they know little, and the thick and impenetrable nature of the
Boar’s retreat greatly added to the idea of his wondrous power. The
first thing, then, was to let the light of day in upon him, and,
accordingly, the very next morning, a strong body of labourers
commenced to work at a good, broad road, which should penetrate
the heart of the forest.
 Of course this undertaking occupied some time, during which the
secret interviews between Smith and the fair Druidess were not
unfrequent, and the brave young leader obtained much good advice
as to his mode of procedure.
The most extraordinary part of the story is that, all this time, no
one heard or saw anything of the Boar. Whether he knew less of
magic than was supposed, and, being engaged on the other side of
the forest, did not know what was going on near Ascot Heath—or
whether he knew and didn’t think it worth while to interfere—or
whether he was idle, sleepy, ill, or anything else—I don’t know; but
he never interfered at all until a long length of road had been made,
and a gang of labourers had got very near his lair.

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Then, one fine morning, he rushed out with a number of his

followers, ripping and goring right and left, and driving everything
before him. It so happened that Smith was not with the workmen
that day. Probably he had gone on some errand for the Druidess;
but, however this may have been, the result was the same, and, in
the absence of our hero, the Boar had it all his own way. In
consequence of this triumph, the monster gave a great feast of
hogwash and potatoes to all his subjects, and their grunting
afterwards was so loud and horrible that it was remembered for a
period of many years in the neighbourhood of Windsor.
Smith, as you may suppose, was thoroughly disgusted when he
found what had occurred, and all the more so as he felt that his
presence might, and probably would, have prevented the
misfortune. Nothing daunted, however, he resolved to repair the
mischief as quickly as possible. He sent far and wide throughout the
country for all the white horses which could possibly be secured, and
begged as many of their owners as felt martially inclined to
accompany their steeds. This was done under the sage advice of the
toads, to whom it was well known that to white animals beyond all
others has been given the power of resisting the influences of magic
arts. The knowledge that Smith’s movement was supported by the
Druids materially operated to promote the success of his request.
From all quarters white horses and horsemen came flocking to the
appointed place on Ascot Heath, and upon a certain day which he
had fixed the leader found himself at the head of a numerous body
of cavalry. He next proceeded to arm every man with a long wooden
spear pointed with iron, and having given them their watchword and
rallying cry, “Bacon,” marched boldly towards the forest. And now
began the contest with the powers of magic.
The Boar sent forth his legions, having for the nonce converted
hundreds of pigs into creatures bearing the form of man, whilst his
own regiment of sharp-tusked boars acted as a reserve force in their
own shape and form. They could not, however, prevail against the
white army, protected by the wisdom of the toads and backed by the
incantations of the saintly Druids. After a combat along the whole
line which lasted for some hours, the magic forces of the Boar gave
way on every side. Their resistance, indeed, stout and dogged as it
had been at first, gave way at the sight of an enormous ham, boiled
and ready for use, which at a critical moment of the contest was
displayed by the orders of Smith at the top of a long pole. No
porcine nature could withstand this spell, sure be-tokener of the fate
of every vanquished and slaughtered pig. The enchanted animals (as
the toads had privately told Smith would certainly be the case)
resumed their natural shape by hundreds at the sight of this
wondrous emblem, and fled with wild grunts into the forest, followed
by the victorious army. On every side the white horsemen rode down
the flying porkers, impaling them on their iron-tipped spears, and
shouting “Bacon” until the forest rang again with the martial sound.
Smith himself performed prodigies of valour, overthrowing and
slaying numbers of the foe, and greatly assisting in bringing about
the complete and terrible defeat which befell the forces of the Boar.
So it was that towards eventide the battle was practically over, for
not a pig but had resumed his natural shape, not a foe but had
either fallen or fled into the deep recesses of the forest and sought
safety in ignominious concealment from the face of day. Yet fast
within his lair remained the Great Boar himself, and no one had as
yet beheld him upon that day so fatal to his tribe. Why or wherefore
he had not headed his troops is more than I can say. One would
have supposed that his presence would have encouraged them, and
that his continued seclusion within his lair must have been the most
foolish proceeding on the part of the chief of an army who had so
much at stake. But whatever reason he had, it is certain that he
never appeared, and his people were slaughtered right and left
without his ever coming to the rescue.
Smith, however, was not to be treated in this manner by his
mighty enemy. Unless the latter were dealt with in some satisfactory
way, he knew well enough that his victory would have been all in
vain, and that the evil with which his country had so long been
afflicted would be by no means ended. He hesitated not, therefore,
to push boldly forward into the heart of the forest, and seek the
tyrant in his lair. The wood was uncommonly thick, and progress
extremely difficult. Gigantic brambles formed an almost insuperable
barrier, twining round the legs of the traveller in a manner
remarkably disagreeable, and forming at certain places an almost
impregnable network of defence. The bushes, too, grew thickly
where the brambles did not, huge oaks stood about wherever there
was any space clear from bush and bramble, strange weeds cropped
up around, and altogether the place was as wild and difficult of
access as you can well imagine. Yet Smith pushed bravely on, with
some of his chosen companions, until he suddenly found himself in
an open space some sixty feet square, almost entirely surrounded by
oak-trees, plentifully encircled by ivy of the most luxuriant growth.
As he entered this space, a deep voice uttered these words in
terrible accents:—

“How dares the child of loathsome toad.

Unasked to enter this abode?
No longer press thy childish whim,
Back! or I tear thee limb from limb.”

The followers of the great deliverer were visibly staggered by

these awful words, more especially as the speaker was nowhere to
be seen. Smith himself, however, being perfectly prepared for some
such proceeding on the part of his enemy, was not for a moment
disconcerted in the smallest degree. By the advice of the powers
which had directed and shielded him throughout the whole of his
arduous enterprise, he had armed himself with an oaken staff, cut
from a sacred tree which grew near to my banks, and which was
held in peculiar estimation by the people. This staff, having been
dipped in my river, and afterwards heavily tipped with lead, was a
weapon of considerable power, and the gallant Smith brandished it
on high above his head as he replied to his invisible enemy in the
following words:—

“Boast loud and long, thou villain Boar,

And trust in dealings magic;
More humbly shalt thou shortly roar,
And meet an ending tragic.

Come forth and try! I thee defy,

By mighty aid of Druid,
And this good staff, which lately I
Have dipt in Thames’s fluid.

Come forth, I say! No more delay!

You rascal! what, you won’t stir?
I brand thee, in the face of day,
A vile and hideous monster! ”

The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when a horrible noise
between a grunt and a roar burst upon the ears of the attacking
party, and the Great Boar of Windsor broke from his lair and rushed
furiously upon his enemies. His eyes glared like fireballs—his bristles
were erect and awful to see—his tusks seemed sharper and more
enormous than any one would have supposed possible—and his
whole appearance evinced such a mixture of strength and ferocity as
might well have caused the stoutest heart to quail before his
approach. Fury was in his countenance, and frightful was the
expression of his face as he charged headlong down upon Smith,
with a force which it seemed impossible to withstand. Uttering his
war-cry in the shape of a suppressed but horrid grunt, he held his
head low, and was evidently bent upon ripping up the intruder with
the least possible delay.
To be ripped up, however, was by no means Smith’s intention.
Springing hastily aside, he dealt the Boar a blow with his staff as he
passed in the mad career which he was unable to check. The blow,
dealt with the hero’s full force upon the back of the monster’s head,
changed his grunt into a squeak of pain, but otherwise had no
visible effect upon him. Rendered doubly furious by the failure of his
first rush, the Boar now turned upon some of Smith’s companions,
upon whom he trusted to have wreaked an easy vengeance. But,
with admirable sagacity, Smith had foreseen the possibility of such
an occurrence, and, instructed by the toads, had carefully provided
against it. Each of his followers who had entered the lair, besides
being armed with spears as I have described, had in his hand a
short stick upon the end of which was fastened a sausage.
The order given was, that, if the Boar attacked, this should simply
be held out in front of the person in danger, which order you may
well believe was faithfully obeyed. The effect was certainly
marvellous. At the sight of each sausage the Boar’s powers appeared
to fail him, and he turned with a disappointed groan to find another
victim. One man, indeed, found the protection useless, and was
miserably ripped up and destroyed by the monster. A momentary
panic prevailed, but it was fortunately remembered that the luckless
individual had brought his own sausage from his own manufactory,
and that sundry of his neighbours who had lost their cats had more
than once thrown the darkest suspicion upon the character and
quality of the article which he supplied. It is therefore probable that
the virtue inherent in sausages made from the lawful animal was
wanting in his case, and that he perished justly as a deceiver of his
fellow-men.
But the Boar could make no head against a body of men so well
prepared for his assault. He foamed at the mouth—he roared—he
grunted—he howled—he rushed madly to and fro—but all his efforts
were useless. Then once more he turned himself round and rushed
with a frantic force upon the leader of his foes. Smith was at that
instant standing close to an oak-tree, and so sudden was the Boar’s
attack that he had barely time to avoid it by a vigorous spring which
he made, catching as he did so a branch above his head, and
swinging himself up out of harm’s way.
The Boar, meanwhile, unable to stop himself, rushed with great
force against the tree. To his infinite surprise, and indeed to the
astonishment of all who saw it, the hard surface of the oak yielded
to his touch, his tusks penetrated the bark, and he remained there
firm and fast, caught by the head and held as if by a vice. At the
same moment a strain of sweet and solemn music burst upon the
ears of those who were present, and from behind the oak-tree
stepped the figure of the Priestess Bertha, clad as she had been on
the previous occasion of her addressing the people, save that she
wore upon her head a wreath of mistletoe, bright and glistening with
berries. Walking up to the still struggling Boar, she calmly sat down
upon him, just as if he had been a camp-stool, upon which he
groaned audibly, but remained perfectly still. Then the Priestess
proceeded to speak:—

“The Boar is vanquished in the fight,

And ended is his former might.
Cursed by his yoke no more ye be,
But Windsor’s children shall be free.

Yet be ye cautious, firm, and wise,

Or other foes may still arise,
And ye may scarcely yet escape
From boars in brute or human shape.

Still, good advice I give to you:

Be honest, loyal, just, and true;
Drink not the wine that tastes of cork;
Keep down the pigs by eating pork;

Love sausages (avoiding shams);

And don’t forget to cure your hams.
So, if your lives are good and pure,
Your happiness shall be secure;

Windsor to high renown shall soar,

And ne’er again be spoiled by boar.
Meanwhile, ’tis time I play my part,
And banish hence foul magic art!”

Then, slowly rising from her strange seat, and extending her arm
high in the air above the miserable Boar, She began to mutter to
herself in a low tone mystic words of dark and wondrous import,
which had all the more effect upon her hearers because nobody
understood them. Presently she turned again to the listening army,
and thus addressed the Boar, her countenance bearing a stern
expression and her whole appearance being one of queenly dignity:
—

“Foul beast! henceforth thy power is stayed,

Thy former vassals shall be free;
Thine art no more shall be displayed,
But Windsor Forest boarless be!

Yet must thou not this forest leave,

Or quit the place, alive or dead,
Whence thou hast caused the land to grieve,
And tears in oceans to be shed.

In altered form remaining here,

Receive, vile tyrant, this thy ban:
Be filled henceforth with timid fear,
And tremble at the sight of man.

Henceforth on roots and insects feed;

And yet, when nobler creatures die,
Be thou suspected of the deed,
A hated sight to keeper’s eye!”

She spoke; and as the words fell from her inspired lips, a
wondrous and melancholy change came over the unhappy animal to
whom they were addressed. His tusks fell off, his head diminished,
his body grew smaller even while she was speaking, and, as she
ceased, the once great Boar stood there in the presence of his
enemies, neither more nor less than an unusually large hedgehog.
Shouts of mingled joy and astonishment broke from the surrounding
peasants as they perceived this highly satisfactory transformation
taking place upon their dreaded foe. There he stood, trembling and
shivering before them, furtively casting his eyes right and left as if in
search of some hiding-place to which he might betake himself at
once. Then, after a moment or two, he curled himself up after the
general manner of hedgehogs into a round, impenetrable ball, a
proceeding which evoked shouts of laughter from those who had
lately trembled at his very glance, but who now felt the most
supreme contempt for their vanquished enemy. As they stood and
gazed upon him, the transformed animal presently unrolled himself
again, and scuttled away as fast as he could among the dry leaves,
making, with a new but natural instinct, for a place of concealment
beneath the roots of the enormous trees which grew around the
spot. And in fact, so far as this history concerns the Great Boar of
Windsor, Brother Rhine, I might as well bring it to a close at once,
for little more was ever heard of him. The blow struck at Boardom
throughout the kingdom by the destruction of his power was very
great, and the race gradually died away and became extinct. Not so
by any means the hedgehogs, who from that time forth mightily
increased all over England, and who down to the present day love to
make it their boast that they are lineally descended from the Great
Boar of Windsor. So proud of ancient ancestry are even the brute
beasts of creation, aping that arrant fool, man, in this as well as
sundry other follies.
It is curious to observe how exactly the prophecy of the Druidess
has been fulfilled with regard to these hedgehogs. They live, as we
know, upon roots and insects, and it has been over and over again
demonstrated by learned naturalists that their physical formation is
such as to preclude the possibility of their being carnivorous animals.
But tell a gamekeeper this, and he will laugh you to scorn. The
words of the Druidess have come true enough in this instance; and if
a nest of eggs is found destroyed, or a young pheasant torn or slain,
the hedgehog is declared to be the culprit, and his unhappy race is
persecuted even unto death.
Tradition says, however, that death has never fallen upon the
Great Boar himself, or that if his body has really perished, as one
would suppose to have been the case long ago, his spirit still haunts
the locality which his power and his crimes rendered so celebrated in
those days of yore. Certain it is, that if you happen to know the site
of the Boar’s lair, which of course I know, Brother Rhine, but which is
hidden from the knowledge of all mortals save those favoured by
Fairyland power, you may sometimes hear tidings of its former
occupant. Wander forth on a clear moonlight night, hide yourself
securely among the brushwood or behind the gigantic oaks which
still exist, and you will see all that is left of the monster who was so
long the scourge and terror of the place. A large hedgehog, bearing
the weight of many years upon his back, will issue from beneath the
roots of some of the old trees, followed by several smaller beings of
the same species. Slowly and sadly he will creep, with feeble steps
and decrepit gait, down the open space in front of the trees, and
pass before you, uttering a low grunt of retrospective misery as he
crawls over the altered scenes of his departed greatness. Move not;
raise not a finger; keep entire silence; and as you gaze upon the
unhappy wretch, let pity rather than scorn take possession of your
heart; and when after his short walk he returns shaking with age
and sorrow, and once more creeps into his humble hiding-place,
ponder over the shortness and instability of earthly power and
wealth, and remember that you have beheld all that remains of that
terrible being who was once so infamously notorious as the Great
Boar of Windsor.
 Original Size -- Medium-Size

But although I told you that, so far as the Boar was concerned,
my story might very well have ended here, you cannot have listened
to me with the attention which you have deigned to bestow without
wishing to know something more of the fortunes of the other
personages of whom I have spoken. As soon as the hedgehog had
retired, and their apprehensions were once and for all removed, the
worthy peasants broke out into what is nowadays called a “truly
British cheer.” While they did this, the Priestess Bertha took the
opportunity of retiring into the forest, so that when the good people
had cheered enough, and were getting rather hoarse, they found
that she had disappeared. The whole of their attention, therefore,
was concentrated upon Smith, whom they surrounded with
expressions of the warmest gratitude, and overwhelmed with thanks
for the ability, courage, and discretion which he had evinced in the
conduct of the whole affair. Had it been a few centuries later, they
would doubtless have presented him with the freedom of their city,
supposing them to have had one. As it was, they could do little but
thank him, and declare themselves anxious that he should be their
chief, or king, or anything else he pleased. Smith, however, stood
moodily aside, leaning upon his spear, and declined to accept the
offered dignity. The people were still crowding around him and
urging him to complete the good work which he had just begun, by
ruling over those whom he had freed from an intolerable yoke, when
an event took place which entirely changed the character of the
proceedings.
Suddenly there appeared among the trees and amid the people a
number of Druids, clad in the vestments which they habitually wore,
and brandishing the weapons with which they usually perpetrated
the sacrifices which accompanied their most solemn rites. Without
more ado they proceeded to seize upon Smith, and declared to the
astonished people that the gods had intimated their will that he
should be immediately sacrificed.
This was by no means welcome news to those who heard it, nor
could they readily understand why the Druids should desire the life
of one who had hitherto shown the greatest reverence for them and
their religion, and who had, moreover, just rendered a great public
service.
Murmurs began to arise from the crowd, murmurs deep and
angry, to the effect that jealousy of Smith’s influence was at the
bottom of the movement, and that the Druids, who had never been
able to get rid of the Boar until Smith had appeared on the scene,
were ready to kill him out of the way as soon as ever he had
accomplished the task which had been too much for themselves.
Anxious to remove an impression which, if allowed to remain, might
become the source of danger to their authority over the people, one
of the chief Druids jumped upon the trunk of a fallen tree and
begged leave to explain. This having been readily granted, the
venerable man stated that the people ought to know by this time
that reverend ecclesiastics never did anything wrong, and that mean
or ignoble motives were never harboured in their holy hearts. “But,”
he continued, “although Smith had certainly rendered considerable
service to the people (and this the Druids would be the last to deny),
he had nullified all his claims to their gratitude by the commission of
an offence which struck a deep blow at the very root of that religion
which was the sole basis of their social order, and their only hope
alike for the present and the future. He had ventured to speak of
love to the holy Druidess Bertha, and there was every reason to
believe that they were privately married!”
At these words a thrill of horror ran through the crowd, who had
been taught to believe a Druidess to be a species of being superior
to the ordinary feelings of mortals, and one to whom marriage
should have been an entire impossibility. They dared offer no further
opposition to the Druids, and were about to suffer their gallant
defender and deliverer to be dragged away to a cruel death without
further effort to save him. But all was not over yet. Smith had allies
of whom his cowardly followers and his bigoted persecutors were
alike ignorant. With a mighty effort he shook off the priests who held
him, and in a stentorian voice shouted aloud the words of magic
token, “Help, oh, my Toddlekins!” Scarce were the words out of his
mouth when a toad of extraordinary size hopped from the forest into
the open space, and looked around with eyes that sparkled with
angry indignation. At the sight of him the Druids felt their hearts fail;
their arms dropped by their sides, their weapons fell from their
hands, and they lacked alike the will and the power to harm their
intended victim.
Meanwhile the toad who had been adjured under the name of
Toddlekins gave a jerk with his legs right and left, shook off his toad-
skin, and appeared in the shape of a young man of singularly
prepossessing appearance. His form was tall and manly, his
beautifully shaped head was covered with dark hair, and the
remarkably sweet expression of his countenance was enhanced by
the extraordinary beauty and brightness of his eyes. Looking about
him right and left, and waving his hand in a careless manner, he
addressed the people as follows: “My friends,” he said, “you will
excuse me for making the remark that you are a set of very
particular fools. In order to convince you that I have a right to say
this, I will tell you with plain brevity who and what I am. I was born,
never mind when or where, into this world, and being found in all
respects much too good for it, the Fates decided that I should wait
for a certain number of centuries before I again came into it as a
mortal, and should meanwhile pass my time as a powerful fairy. As
such I have lived in Toadland for some time past, and have
especially watched over the education of my friend Smith. That is all
I shall tell you about myself, except that my power has aided you to
achieve your freedom, and will now prevent you from suffering a
crime to be perpetrated which would disgrace you for ever. But I
have something more to tell you about the person called Smith. He
is one for whom I cherish a particular regard, and you ought to do
the same. For has he not delivered you from your ancient enemy?
But he has done more. The very crime of which he is accused, if
crime it be, has been done in your service. He has fulfilled the old
proverb, which it was necessary to do before the Boar’s power could
be destroyed. This proverb declared that the blood of the ‘slayer and
the slain’ must be blended together before the Boar’s reign should
cease. Do you ask how this has been done? I will read you the
riddle. The father of the Priestess Bertha was none other than an old
Druid who sacrificed (most improperly) the male parent of my friend
Smith. He had no right to a daughter at all, but of this I will say
nothing except that the holy maiden has possession of the very
spectacles which he always wore on sacrificing days, and which he
bestowed upon her at his death, conveying to her at the same time
the information respecting her birth which I have just given you.
Thus, then, the blood of the slayer and slain have been blended
together by the marriage of the daughter of the former with the son
of the latter. The Boar has consequently been got rid of, and unless
you are the most ungrateful set of varlets that ever breathed, you
will tell the Druids to go home and mind their own business, will
celebrate the nuptials of the happy couple by a jolly good dinner,
and break up at the close of the evening with ‘three cheers for
Smith!’”
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