the blue flower-第3章

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streets　of　the　city；　men　and　women　and　children　have　gone　up
the　mountain…path　with　singing；　to　rejoice　beside　the　spring
from　which　the　river　flows　and　to　remember　the　one　who　opened　it。
We　call　it　the　River　Carita。　　And　the　name　of　the　city　is　no　more
Ablis；　but　Saloma；　which　is　Peace。　　And　the　name　of　him　who　died
to　find　the　Source　for　us　is　so　dear　that　we　speak　it　only　when
we　pray。

〃But　there　are　many　things　yet　to　learn　about　our　city；
and　some　that　seem　dark　and　cast　a　shadow　on　my　thoughts。
Therefore；　my　son；　I　bid　you　to　be　my　guest；　for　there　is　a
room　in　my　house　for　the　stranger；　and　to…morrow　and　on　the
following　days　you　shall　see　how　life　goes　with　us；　and　read；
if　you　can；　the　secret　of　the　city。〃

That　night　I　slept　well；　as　one　who　has　heard　a　pleasant
tale；　with　the　murmur　of　running　water　woven　through　my
dreams；　and　the　next　day　I　went　out　early　into　the　streets；
for　I　was　curious　to　see　the　manner　of　the　visitation　of　the
Source。

Already　the　people　were　coming　forth　and　turning　their
steps　upward　in　the　mountain…path　beside　the　river。　　Some　of
them　went　alone；　swiftly　and　in　silence；　others　were　in　groups
of　two　or　three；　talking　as　they　went；　others　were　in　larger
companies；　and　they　sang　together　very　gladly　and　sweetly。
But　there　were　many　people　who　remained　working
in　their　fields　or　in　their　houses；　or　stayed　talking　on　the
corners　of　the　streets。　　Therefore　I　joined　myself　to　one　of
the　men　who　walked　alone　and　asked　him　why　all　the　people　did
not　go　to　the　spring；　since　the　life　of　the　city　depended　upon
it；　and　whether；　perhaps；　the　way　was　so　long　and　so　hard　that
none　but　the　strongest　could　undertake　it。

〃Sir；〃　said　he；　〃I　perceive　that　you　are　a　stranger；　for
the　way　is　both　short　and　easy；　so　that　the　children　are　those
who　most　delight　in　it；　and　if　a　man　were　in　great　haste　he
could　go　there　and　return　in　a　little　while。　　But　of　those　who
remain　behind；　some　are　the　busy　ones　who　must　visit　the
fountain　at　another　hour；　and　some　are　the　careless　ones　who
take　life　as　it　comes　and　never　think　where　it　comes　from；　and
some　are　those　who　do　not　believe　in　the　Source　and　will　hear
nothing　about　it。〃

〃How　can　that　be？〃　I　said；　〃do　they　not　drink　of　the
water；　and　does　it　not　make　their　fields　green？〃

〃It　is　true；〃　he　said；　〃but　these　men　have　made　wells
close　by　the　river；　and　they　say　that　these　wells　fill
themselves；　and　they　have　digged　channels　through　their
gardens；　and　they　say　that　these　channels　would　always　have
water　in　them　even　though　the　spring　should　cease　to　flow。
Some　of　them　say　also　that　it　is　an　unworthy　thing　to　drink
from　a　source　that　another　has　opened；　and　that　every　man
ought　to　find　a　new　spring　for　himself；　so　they　spend　the　hour
of　the　visitation；　and　many　more；　in　searching　among　the
mountains　where　there　is　no　path。〃

While　I　wondered　over　this；　we　kept　on　in　the　way。　　There
was　already　quite　a　throng　of　people　all　going　in　the　same
direction。　　And　when　we　came　to　the　Source；　which　flowed　from
an　opening　in　a　cliff；　almost　like　a　chamber　hewn　in　the　rock；
and　made　a　little　garden　of　wild…flowers　around　it　as　it　fell；
I　heard　the　music　of　many　voices　and　the　beautiful　name　of　him
who　had　given　his　life　to　find　the　forgotten　spring。

Then　we　came　down　again；　singly　and　in　groups；　following
the　river。　　It　seemed　already　more　bright
and　full　and　joyous。　　As　we　passed　through　the　gardens　I　saw
men　turning　aside　to　make　new　channels　through　fields　which
were　not　yet　cultivated。　　And　as　we　entered　the　city　I　saw　the
wheels　of　the　mills　that　ground　the　corn　whirling　more
swiftly；　and　the　maidens　coming　with　their　pitchers　to　draw
from　the　brimming　basins　at　the　street　corners；　and　the
children　laughing　because　the　marble　pools　were　so　full　that
they　could　swim　in　them。　　There　was　plenty　of　water
everywhere。

For　many　weeks　I　stayed　in　the　city　of　Saloma；　going　up
the　mountain…path　in　the　morning；　and　returning　to　the　day　of
work　and　the　evening　of　play。　　I　found　friends　among　the
people　of　the　city；　not　only　among　those　who　walked　together
in　the　visitation　of　the　Source；　but　also　among　those　who
remained　behind；　for　many　of　them　were　kind　and　generous；
faithful　in　their　work；　and　very　pleasant　in　their
conversation。

Yet　there　was　something　lacking　between　me　and　them。　　I
came　not　onto　firm　ground　with　them；　for　all　their　warmth　of
welcome　and　their　pleasant　ways。　　They　were　by　nature　of　the
race　of　those　who　dwell　ever　in　one　place；　even　in　their　thoughts
they　went　not　far　abroad。　　But　I　have　been　ever　a　seeker；　and　the
world　seems　to　me　made　to　wander　in；　rather　than　to　abide　in　one
corner　of　it　and　never　see　what　the　rest　has　in　store。　　Now
this　was　what　the　people　of　Saloma　could　not　understand；　and
for　this　reason　I　seemed　to　them　always　a　stranger；　an　alien；
a　guest。　　The　fixed　circle　of　their　life　was　like　an　invisible
wall；　and　with　the　best　will　in　the　world　they　knew　not　how　to
draw　me　within　it。　　And　I；　for　my　part；　while　I　understood
well　their　wish　to　rest　and　be　at　peace；　could　not　quite
understand　the　way　in　which　it　found　fulfilment；　nor　share　the
repose　which　seemed　to　them　all…sufficient　and　lasting。　　In
their　gardens　I　saw　ever　the　same　flowers；　and　none　perfect。
At　their　feasts　I　tasted　ever　the　same　food；　and　none　that
made　an　end　of　hunger。　　In　their　talk　I　heard　ever　the　same
words；　and　none　that　went　to　the　depth　of　thought。　　The　very
quietude　and　fixity　of　their　being　perplexed　and　estranged　me。
What　to　them　was　permanent；　to　me　was　transient。　　They　were
inhabitants：　　I　was　a　visitor。

The　one　in　all　the　city　of　Saloma　with　whom　was　most　at　home
was　Ruamie；　the　little　granddaughter　of　the　old　man　with　whom
I　lodged。　　To　her；　a　girl　of　thirteen；　fair…eyed　and　full　of
joy；　the　wonted　round　of　life　had　not　yet　grown　to　be　a　matter　of
course。　　She　was　quick　to　feel　and　answer　the　newness　of　every
day　that　dawned。　　When　a　strange　bird　flew　down　from　the
mountains　into　the　gardens；　it　was　she　that　saw　it　and　wondered
at　it。　　It　was　she　that　walked　with　me　most　often　in　the　path　to
the　Source。　　She　went　out　with　me　to　the　fields　in　the　morning
and　almost　every　day　found　wild…flowers　that　were　new　to　me。
At　sunset　she　drew　me　to　happy　games　of　youths　and　children；
where　her　fancy　was　never　tired　of　weaving　new　turns　to　the
familiar　pastimes。　　In　the　dusk　she　would　sit　beside　me　in　an
arbour　of　honeysuckle　and　question　me　about　the　flower　that　I
was　seeking；for　to　her　I　had　often　spoken　of　my　quest。

〃Is　it　blue；〃　she　asked；　〃as　blue　as　the　speedwell　that
grows　beside　the　brook？〃

〃Yes；　it　is　as　much　bluer　than　the　speedwell；　as　the　river
is　deeper　than　the　brook。〃

〃And　is　it　she　asked；　〃as　bright　as　the　drops　of　dew　in
the　moonlight？〃

〃Yes；　it　is　brighter　than　the　drops　of　dew　as　the　sun　is
clearer　than　the　moon。〃

〃And　is　it　sweet；〃　she　asked；　〃as　sweet　as　the　honeysuckle
when　the　day　is　warm　and　still？〃

〃Yes；　it　is　as　much　sweeter　than　the　honeysuckle　as　the
night　is　stiller　and　more　sweet　than　the　day。〃

〃Tell　me　again；〃　she　asked；　〃when　you　saw　it；　and　why　do
you　seek　it？〃

〃Once　I　saw　it　when　I　was　a　boy；　no　older　than　you。　　Our
house　looked　out　toward　the　hills；　far　away　and　at　sunset
softly　blue　against　the　eastern　sky。　　It　was　the　day　that　we
laid　my　father　to　rest　in　the　little　burying…ground　among　the
cedar…trees。　　There　was　his　father's　grave；　and　his　father's
father's　grave；　and　there　were　the　places　for　my　mother　and
for　my　two　brothers　and　for　my　sister　and　for　me。　　I　counted
them　all；　when　the　others　had　gone　back　to　the　house。　　I　paced
up　and　down　alone；　measuring　the　ground；　there　was
room　enough　for　us　all；　and　in　the　western　corner　where　a
young　elm…tree　was　growing；that　would　be　my　place；　for　I　was
the　youngest。　　How　tall　would　the　elm…tree　be　then？　　I　had
never　thought　of　it　before。　　It　seemed　to　make　me　sad　and
restless；wishing　for　something；　I　knew　not　what；longing　to
see　the　world　and　to　taste　happiness　before　I　must　sleep
beneath　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　c