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chest； the long supple hand still holding the pan…pipes only just fallen
away from the parted lips； saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs
disposed in majestic ease on the sward； saw； last of all； nestling between
his very hooves； sleeping soundly in entire peace and contentment； the
little； round； podgy； childish form of the baby otter。 All this he saw； for one
moment breathless and intense； vivid on the morning sky； and still； as he
looked； he lived； and still； as he lived； he wondered。
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‘Rat！' he found breath to whisper； shaking。 ‘Are you afraid？'
‘Afraid？' murmured the Rat； his eyes shining with unutterable love。
‘Afraid！ Of HIM？ O； never； never！ And yetand yet O； Mole； I am
afraid！'
Then the two animals； crouching to the earth； bowed their heads and
did worship。
Sudden and magnificent； the sun's broad golden disc showed itself
over the horizon facing them； and the first rays； shooting across the level
water…meadows； took the animals full in the eyes and dazzled them。 When
they were able to look once more； the Vision had vanished； and the air was
full of the carol of birds that hailed the dawn。
As they stared blankly。 in dumb misery deepening as they slowly
realised all they had seen and all they had lost； a capricious little breeze；
dancing up from the surface of the water； tossed the aspens； shook the
dewy roses and blew lightly and caressingly in their faces； and with its
soft touch came instant oblivion。 For this is the last best gift that the kindly
demi… god is careful to bestow on those to whom he has revealed himself
in their helping： the gift of forgetfulness。 Lest the awful remembrance
should remain and grow； and overshadow mirth and pleasure； and the
great haunting memory should spoil all the after…lives of little animals
helped out of difficulties； in order that they should be happy and
lighthearted as before。
Mole rubbed his eyes and stared at Rat； who was looking about him in
a puzzled sort of way。 ‘I beg your pardon； what did you say； Rat？' he
asked。
‘I think I was only remarking；' said Rat slowly； ‘that this was the right
sort of place； and that here； if anywhere； we should find him。 And look！
Why； there he is； the little fellow！' And with a cry of delight he ran
towards the slumbering Portly。
But Mole stood still a moment； held in thought。 As one wakened
suddenly from a beautiful dream； who struggles to recall it； and can re…
capture nothing but a dim sense of the beauty of it； the beauty！ Till that；
too； fades away in its turn； and the dreamer bitterly accepts the hard； cold
waking and all its penalties； so Mole； after struggling with his memory for
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a brief space； shook his head sadly and followed the Rat。
Portly woke up with a joyous squeak； and wriggled with pleasure at
the sight of his father's friends； who had played with him so often in past
days。 In a moment； however； his face grew blank； and he fell to hunting
round in a circle with pleading whine。 As a child that has fallen happily
asleep in its nurse's arms； and wakes to find itself alone and laid in a
strange place； and searches corners and cupboards； and runs from room to
room； despair growing silently in its heart； even so Portly searched the
island and searched； dogged and unwearying； till at last the black moment
came for giving it up； and sitting down and crying bitterly。
The Mole ran quickly to comfort the little animal； but Rat； lingering；
looked long and doubtfully at certain hoof…marks deep in the sward。
‘Somegreatanimalhas been here；' he murmured slowly and
thoughtfully； and stood musing； musing； his mind strangely stirred。
‘Come along； Rat！' called the Mole。 ‘Think of poor Otter； waiting up
there by the ford！'
Portly had soon been comforted by the promise of a treata jaunt on
the river in Mr。 Rat's real boat； and the two animals conducted him to the
water's side； placed him securely between them in the bottom of the boat；
and paddled off down the backwater。 The sun was fully up by now； and
hot on them； birds sang lustily and without restraint； and flowers smiled
and nodded from either bank； but somehowso thought the animalswith
less of richness and blaze of colour than they seemed to remember seeing
quite recently somewherethey wondered where。
The main river reached again； they turned the boat's head upstream；
towards the point where they knew their friend was keeping his lonely
vigil。 As they drew near the familiar ford； the Mole took the boat in to the
bank； and they lifted Portly out and set him on his legs on the tow…path；
gave him his marching orders and a friendly farewell pat on the back； and
shoved out into mid…stream。 They watched the little animal as he waddled
along the path contentedly and with importance； watched him till they saw
his muzzle suddenly lift and his waddle break into a clumsy amble as he
quickened his pace with shrill whines and wriggles of recognition。
Looking up the river； they could see Otter start up； tense and rigid； from
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out of the shallows where he crouched in dumb patience； and could hear
his amazed and joyous bark as he bounded up through the osiers on to the
path。 Then the Mole； with a strong pull on one oar； swung the boat round
and let the full stream bear them down again whither it would； their quest
now happily ended。
‘I feel strangely tired； Rat；' said the Mole； leaning wearily over his oars
as the boat drifted。 ‘It's being up all night； you'll say； perhaps； but that's
nothing。 We do as much half the nights of the week； at this time of the
year。 No； I feel as if I had been through something very exciting and rather
terrible； and it was just over； and yet nothing particular has happened。'
‘Or something very surprising and splendid and beautiful；' murmured
the Rat； leaning back and closing his eyes。 ‘I feel just as you do； Mole；
simply dead tired； though not body tired。 It's lucky we've got the stream
with us； to take us home。 Isn't it jolly to feel the sun again； soaking into
one's bones！ And hark to the wind playing in the reeds！'
‘It's like musicfar away music；' said the Mole nodding drowsily。
‘So I was thinking；' murmured the Rat； dreamful and languid。 ‘Dance…
musicthe lilting sort that runs on without a stopbut with words in it；
tooit passes into words and out of them againI catch them at intervals
then it is dance…music once more； and then nothing but the reeds' soft thin
whispering。'
‘You hear better than I；' said the Mole sadly。 ‘I cannot catch the words。'
‘Let me try and give you them；' said the Rat softly； his eyes still closed。
‘Now it is turning into words againfaint but clear Lest the awe should
dwellAnd turn your frolic to fretYou shall look on my power at the
helping hourBut then you shall forget！ Now the reeds take it upforget；
forget； they sigh； and it dies away in a rustle and a whisper。 Then the voice
returns
‘Lest limbs be reddened and rentI spring the trap that is setAs I
loose the snare you may glimpse me thereFor surely you shall forget！
Row nearer； Mole； nearer to the reeds！ It is hard to catch； and grows each
minute fainter。
‘Helper and healer； I cheerSmall waifs in the woodland wet Strays I
find in it； wounds I bind in itBidding them all forget！ Nearer； Mole；
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nearer！ No； it is no good； the song has died away into reed…talk。'
‘But what do the words mean？' asked the wondering Mole。
‘That I do not know；' said the Rat simply。 ‘I passed them on to you as
they reached me。 Ah！ now they return again； and this time full and clear！
This time； at last； it is the real； the unmistakable thing； simplepassionate…
…perfect'
‘Wel