Rootabaga Stories

Fire t

the

ad

Flat

ut. Stub pines stood over them. And away

The floor of the sand flat ran straigh

igh room where the mist people were making pictures. Gray pictures, b

ere the mist people were making pic

ways last and highest

sleep," they said to each other, "here in the stub pines on the sand flats next to the

eir fingers for luck and lay down and went to sleep and slept. And while they slept the mist people went on making pictures. Gray pictures, blue and sometimes a little gold but more often

ok his horns out and put them

gs out and put them on. "It

across the rim curve of the Big Lake of the Booming Rollers, along the whole line of the

open, ears laid back, front legs thro

slow and grand like he had all the time o

. There were many cows. There was a man with a club over hi

ing slow. They had plenty of time. There was nothing else to do. It was f

e man's shoulder got bigger and heavier and the man staggered under it and then his legs got bigger and stronger and he steadied himself and went on. And again sometimes the bundle

ular circus that passed on the east sky before

and why do they come?" Flim t

he sun was comin

and a

you wish me to tell you

stion to which I wa

e or aunt nor the kith and kin of Flim the G

is which been put here th

gers and said, "I don't talk t

ut the show, the hippodrome, the mastodonic cyclopean spectacle

re the Goat. "That is a name, a word, a

s breath. The breath comes out and it is nothing. It is like air and nobody can make it into a package and car

are other people who understand shadows. The fire-born understa

e came when they were ready to make the animals to put on the earth. They were no

. And these shapes were shadows, shadows like these you and I, Fire the Goat and Flim the Goose,

e was one they made long ago when they were practising to make a real horse. That shadow horse was a mistake and they threw him away. Never will you see two shad

orns in front and behind-they are all mistakes, they were all thrown away because they were not made good enough to be real elephants, real cows, real camel

nd sometimes his hands drag below his feet. See how heavy the club on his shoulders loads him down and drags him

e back of her neck a bundle. Sometimes the bundle gets bigger. The woman staggers. Her legs get bigger and stronger. She picks herself up and goes along shaking

u understand. We have slept together a night on the sand flats next to the booming rollers, under the

day, with a fire-blue of the sun mixing itself in the air and the water. Off to the north the booming rollers were blue sea-green. T

ed on the east sky that morning w

t before they slept on a sand flat. And again Fire the Goat took off his horns and laid them under his

spered in his sleep, whispered to the sta