Part 2 — THE WIND KING
Reading edition
Louis loved stories.
His mother and his nurse told him many wonderful tales.
When Louis was alone he often thought of these stories.
He sometimes played that the stories were all true.
At night, when the moon and stars were hidden, he listened to the wind.
“It is a man riding by in the dark and wet, Nursie,” he would say.
“All night long he rides.
Do you not hear him galloping by?”
I think his mother or nurse may have told him the story of the Wind King.
Perhaps that is why he said he heard a man galloping by.
Do you know the story of the Wind King?
Mothers away across the sea tell it to their children.
“Listen to the wind, little ones!” say the mothers.
“When the wind is high the Wind King is galloping by.
He gallops over the land and the sea.
He rocks the birds in their nests in the high trees.
He tosses the ships on the sea.
All night he gallops about.
He rides a big black horse.
Good children never see him.
They hear only the galloping of his horse as he rides by.
But once long, long ago, there lived a very wicked man.
He did many wicked things.
Everyone feared him; nobody loved him.
One day he went into the woods.
He went from tree to tree, breaking the eggs in the pretty nests.
‘You will be punished for this!’ hooted a wise old owl.
‘The Wind King will punish you.’
‘Who is afraid of the Wind King? Not I!’ answered the man.
And on he went through the woods.
By and by it grew dark.
‘It can’t be night so soon,’ said the man.
‘It is going to rain, I fear.’
Just then he heard the loud roar of the thunder; then he saw the bright lightning.
‘I must get out of here quickly,’ he thought.
It grew darker and darker in the woods.
The faster the man hurried, the worse grew the storm.
He began to run.
He could not see where he was going, so he ran into the trees and hurt himself.
At last, tired out, he fell to the ground.
As he lay there, frightened and wet, he heard the galloping of a horse.
‘Here comes a man riding a horse; he will help me out,’ he thought.
Nearer and nearer came the rider.
Now the galloping sounded over his head.
The man looked up.
There, in the air, he saw a great black horse!
On his back rode a very tall man with shining black eyes and long dark hair.
On his head he wore a crown that flashed like lightning.
Quickly the horse came down to the ground.
Then the rider spoke in a deep voice that sounded like the roaring of the thunder.
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Yes,’ answered the frightened man; ‘you are the Wind King.’
‘And do you know why I have come for you?’
‘Why?’ cried the man.
‘I have come to take you for a ride on my horse.
Hurry and climb up behind me.’
The frightened man did as he was told.
As soon as he had climbed to the horse’s back, he rose swiftly into the air.
How he galloped and galloped!
The man was too frightened to speak.
Soon they alighted on a high mountain.
The horse stamped with his great hoofs, the thunder roared, and the lightning flashed.
Then a door opened into the mountain.
In they galloped and the door closed with a noise like thunder.
‘Get down!’ thundered the Wind King.
The man did so, and looked about him.
He was in a large cave lighted by the flashing lightning.
The cave was almost filled with birds.
They were all sorrowing.
‘Why do you sorrow, my little birds?’ asked the Wind King.
‘Should we not sorrow, O King?’ answered the birds.
‘A wicked man has broken all our beautiful eggs.
There are no more happy nests in the woods.
We are man’s friends; we sing for him; we kill insects that harm his plants; we never do man any harm.
But one man has brought great sorrow to us.’
‘Which man?’ asked the Wind King.
‘The man you just brought into the cave,’ cried all the birds.
And every bird looked at the frightened man.
How sorry he was now!
How he wished he had never harmed the birds!
The Wind King spoke again in his deep, gruff voice.
‘Wicked man, why did you do this?’
The man was too frightened to answer, so the Wind King spoke to the birds.
‘Because this man has been so wicked, I will shut him up in this mountain.
Here he shall stay until he is sorry for what he has done.’
The man fell on his knees.
‘O Wind King! O dear little birds! I am sorry now!
Let me out and I will help the birds make new nests.
I will always be kind to the birds and I will tell others how to help them.
Forgive me, dear little birds, and after this I will be your friend, indeed!’
‘What shall we do with him?’ asked the King.
‘Let him go,’ sang all the birds; ‘we forgive him.
We think he will never be so wicked again.
And we love to see everyone happy.’
Before the man could thank them, the birds had all flown away.
The Wind King touched the man’s eyes and he fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke he was in the woods once more.
Green trees were bending over him.
A bluebird sang as he built a new nest.
In every tree birds were busy at work.
‘How happy and beautiful they are!’ thought the man.
‘How could I ever have hurt such little things?
Hereafter I shall be the birds’ best friend.’
And, little ones, he kept his promise.”
THE WIND
I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all along I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!