 Section 10. The Treasure and the Law, from Puck of Pooks Hill. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Icy Jumbo. Puck of Pooks Hill by Rudyard Kipling. Section 10. The Treasure and the Law. A three-part song. I'm just in love with all these three, the Weald and the Marsh and the Down Country. Nor I don't know which I love the most, the Weald or the Marsh or the White Chalk Coast. I've buried my heart in a ferny hill, twix a little low shore and a great high gill. O hop-vine yalla and wood-smoke blue, I reckon you'll keep her middling true. I've loosed my mind for to out and run on a marsh that was old when the kings began. O Romney level and Benzett reeds, I reckon you know what my mind needs. I've given my soul to the south-down grass and sheep-bells tinkled where you pass. O furl and titulin and sails at sea, I reckon you'll keep my soul or me. Song of the Fifth River. When first by Eden Tree the four great rivers ran, to each was appointed a man, her prince and ruler to be. But after this was ordained, the ancient legends tell, there came dark Israel, for whom no river remained. Then he that is holy just said to him, fling on the ground a handful of yellow dust and a fifth great river shall run, mightier than these four, in secret the earth around, and her secret evermore shall be shown to thee and thy race. So it was said and done, and deep in the veins of the earth, and fed by a thousand springs that comfort the marketplace, or sap the power of kings, the great fifth river had birth, even as it was foretold the secret river of gold. And Israel laid down his scepter and his crown to brood on that river bank, where the waters flashed and sank, and burrowed in earth and fell, and bided a season below, for reason that none might know save only Israel. He is Lord of the last, the fifth most wonderful flood. He hears her thunder past, and her song is in his blood. He can forsay, she will fall, for he knows which fountain dries, behind which desert bells a thousand leagues to the south. He can forsay, she will rise, he knows what fast knows melt, along what mountain wall a thousand leagues to the north. He snuffs the coming drought, as he snuffs the coming rain, he knows what each will bring forth, and he turns it to his gain. A prince without a sword, a ruler without a throne, Israel follows his quest in every land a guest of many lands the Lord, in no land king is he. But the fifth great river keeps the secret of her deeps for Israel alone, as it was ordered to be. The Treasure and the Law Now it was the third week in November, and the woods rang with the noise of pheasant shooting. No one hunted that steep, cramped country except the village beagles, who, as often as not, escaped from their kennels and made a day of their own. Dan and Yuna found a couple of them towling around the kitchen garden after the laundry-cat. The little brits were only too pleased to go rabbiting, so the children ran them all along the brook pastures and into little Linden's farm-yard, where the old sow vanquished them, and up into the quarry-hole where they started a fox. He headed for far wood, and there they frightened out all the pheasants who were sheltering from a big beat across the valley. Then the cruel guns began again, and they grabbed the beagles, lest they should stray and get hurt. I wouldn't be a pheasant in November for a lot, Dan panted, as he caught folly by the neck. Why did you laugh that horrid way? I didn't," said Yuna, sitting on flora, the fat lady-dog. Oh, look! The silly birds are going back to their own woods instead of ours, where they would be safe. Safe till it pleased you to kill them. An old man so tall he was almost a giant, stepped from behind the clump of hollies by Volaterai. The children jumped, and the dogs dropped like setters. He wore a sweeping gown of dark, thick stuff, lined and edged with yellowish fur, and he bowed a bent-down bow that made them feel both proud and ashamed. Then he looked at them steadily, and they stared back without doubt or fear. You are not afraid," he said, running his hands through his splendid grey beard. Not afraid that those men yonder, he jerked his head towards the incessant pop-pop of the guns from the lower woods, will do you hurt? Well, Dan liked to be accurate, especially when he was shy. Oh, hold! A friend of mine told me that one of the beaters got peppered last week, hitting the leg, I mean. See, Mr. Myer will fire at rabbits. But he gave Waxy Garnet a quid—Solfin, I mean—and Waxy told Hobdon he'd have stood both barrels for half the money. He doesn't understand, Euna cried, watching the pale troubled face. Oh, I wish! She had scarcely said it when Puck rustled out of the hollies and spoke to the man quickly in foreign words. Puck wore a long cloak, too. The afternoon was just frosting down, and it changed his appearance altogether. Nay, nay, he said at last. You did not understand the boy. A freeman was a little hurt by pure mischance at the hunting. I know that mischance. What did his lord do? Laugh and ride over him? The old man sneered. It was one of your people did the hurt, Cadmiel. Puck's eyes twinkled maliciously. So he gave the freeman a piece of gold, and no more was said. A Jew drew blood from a Christian, and no more was said. Cadmiel cried. Never! When did they torture him? No man may be bound or fined or slain till he has been judged by his peers, Puck insisted. There is but one law in Old England for Jew or Christian—the law that was signed at Runnymede. Why, that's Magna Charter, Dan whispered. It was one of the few history dates that he could remember. Cadmiel turned on him with a sweep and a whir of his spicy scented gown. Just thou know of that, babe? he cried, and lifted his hands in wonder. Yes, said Dan, firmly. Magna Charter was signed by John that Henry III put his heel upon. And Old Hobton says that if it hadn't been for her—he calls everything her, you know—the keepers would have him clapped in Lewis jail all year round. Again Puck translated to Cadmiel in the strange solemn-sounding language, and at last Cadmiel laughed. Out of the mouths of babes do we learn, said he. But tell me now, and I will not call you a babe, but a rabbi. Why did the king sign the role of the new law at Runnymede? For he was a king. Dan looked sideways at his sister. It was her turn. Because he jolly well had to, said Euna, softly. The barons made him. Nay, Cadmiel answered, shaking his head. New Christians always forget that gold does more than the sword. Our good king signed because he could not borrow more money from us bad Jews. He curved his shoulders as he spoke. A king without gold is a snake with a broken back, and his nose sneered up and his nose frowned down. It is a good deed to break a snake's back. That was my work, he cried triumphantly to Puck. Spirit of earth bear witness that that was my work. He shot up to his full towering height, and his words rang like a trumpet. He had a voice that changed its tone almost as an opal changed his colour, sometimes deep and thundery, sometimes thin and waily, but always it made you listen. Many people can bear witness to that, Puck answered. Tell these babes how it was done. Remember, master, they do not know doubt or fear. So I saw in their faces when we met, said Cadmiel. Yet surely, surely they are taught to spit upon Jews. Are they? said Dan, much interested. Where at? Puck fell back a pace, laughing. Cadmiel is thinking of King John's reign, he explained. His people were badly treated then. Oh, we know that, they answered, and it was very rude of them, but they could not help it. They stared straight at Cadmiel's mouth to see if his teeth were all there. It stuck in their lesson memory that King John used to pull out Jews' teeth to make them lend him money. Cadmiel understood the look and smiled bitterly. No, your king never drew my teeth. I think perhaps I drew his. Listen, I was not born among Christians, but among Moors, in Spain, in a little white town under the mountains. Yes, the Moors are cruel, but at least their learned men dare to think. It was prophesied of me at my birth that I should be a law giver to a people of a strange speech and a hard language. We Jews are always looking for the prince and the law giver to come. Why not? My people in the town, we were very few, set me apart as a child of the prophecy, the chosen of the chosen. We Jews dream so many dreams. You would never guess it to see a slink about the rubbish heaps in our quarter, but at the day's end, doors shut, candles lit, aha, then we become the chosen again. He paced back and forth through the wood as he talked. The rattle of the shotguns never ceased, and the dogs whimpered a little and lay flat on the leaves. I was a prince. Yes, think of a little prince who had never known rough words in his own house, handed over to shouting bearded rabbis, who pulled his ears and phillipped his nose, all that he might learn. Learn, learn to be king when his time came. Eh, such a little prince it was. One eye he kept on the stone-throwing Moorish boys, and the other it roved about the streets looking for his kingdom. Yes, and he learned to cry softly when he was hunted up and down those streets. He learned to do all things without noise. He played beneath his father's table when the great candle was lit, and he listened as children listened to the talk of his father's friends above the table. They came across the mountains from out of all the world. From my prince's father was their counsellor. They came from behind the armies of Salah Bin, from Rome, from Venice, from England. They stole down our alley. They tapped secretly at our door. They took off their rags. They arrayed themselves, and they talked to my father at the wine. All over the world the heathen fought each other. They brought news of these wars, and while he played beneath my table, my prince heard these meanly dressed ones decide between themselves how and when, and for how long king should draw sword against king and people rise up against people. Why not? There can be no war without gold, and we Jews know how the earth's gold moves with the seasons and the crops and the winds, circling and looping and rising and sinking away like a river, a wonderful underground river. How should the foolish kings know that while they fight and steal and kill? The children's faces show that they knew nothing at all as, with open eyes, they trotted and turned beside the long striding old man. He twitched his gown over his shoulders, and a square plate of gold, studded with jewels, gleamed for an instant through the fur, like a star through flying snow. No matter, he said, but credit me, my prince saw peace or war decided not once, but many times, by the fall of a coin spun between a Jew from Berry and a Jewess from Alexandria in his father's house when the great candle was lit. Such power had we Jews among the Gentiles. Ah, my little prince, do you wonder that he learned quickly? Why not? He muttered to himself and went on. My trade was that of a physician. When I had learned it in Spain I went to the east to find my kingdom. Why not? A Jew is as free as a sparrow or a dog. He goes where he is hunted. In the east I found libraries where men dared to think. Schools of medicine where they dared to learn. I was diligent in my business. Therefore I stood before kings. I have been a brother to princes and a companion to beggars, and I have walked between the living and the dead. There was no profit in it. I did not find my kingdom. So in the tenth year of my travels, when I had reached the uttermost eastern sea, I returned to my father's house. God had wonderfully preserved my people. None had been slain. None even wounded, and only a few scourged. I became once more a son in my father's house. Again the great candle was lit. Again the meanly apparelled ones tapped on our door after dusk, and again I heard them weigh out peace and war as they weighed out the gold on the table. But I was not rich, not very rich. Therefore when those that had power and knowledge and wealth talked together I sat in the shadow. Why not? Yet all my wonderings had shown me one sure thing, which is that a king without money is like a spear without a head. He cannot do much harm. I said therefore to Elias of Berry, a great one among our people, why do our people lend any more to the kings that oppress us? Because, said Elias, if we refuse, they stir up their people against us, and the people attendfold more cruel than kings. If thou doubtest, come with me to Berry in England and live as I live. I saw my mother's face across the candle flame, and I said, I will come with thee to Berry. Maybe thy kingdom shall be there. So I sailed with Elias to the darkness and the cruelty of Berry in England, where there are no learned men. How can a man be wise if he hate? At Berry I kept his accounts for Elias, and I saw men kill Jews there by the tower. No, none laid hands on Elias. He lent money to the king and the king's favour was about him. A king will not take the life so long as there is any gold. This king, yes John, oppressed his people bitterly because they would not give him money. Yet his land was a good land. If only he had given it rest he might have cropped it as a Christian crops his beard. But even that little did he not know. For God had deprived him of all understanding and had multiplied pestilence and famine and despair upon the people. Therefore his people turned against us Jews who are all people's dogs. Why not? Lastly the barons and the people rose together against the king because of his cruelties. Nay, nay, the barons did not love the people, but they saw that if the king ate up and destroyed the common people he would presently destroy the barons. They joined then as cats and pigs will join to slay a snake. I kept the accounts and I watched all these things for I remembered the prophecy. A great gathering of barons to most of whom we had lent money came to Berry and there after much talk and a thousand runnings about they made a role of the new laws that they would force on the king. If he swore to keep those laws they would allow him a little money. That was the king's God, money to waste. They showed us the role of the new laws. Why not? We had lent them money. We knew all their councils. We Jews shivering behind our doors in Berry. He threw out his hands suddenly. We did not seek to be paid all in money. We sought power. Power! Power! That is our God in our captivity. Power to use. I said to Elias these new laws are good. Lend no more money to the king. So long as he has money he will lie and slay the people. Nay, said Elias. I know these people. They are madly cruel. Better one king than a thousand butchers. I have lent a little money to the barons or they would torture us but my most I will lend to the king. He hath promised me a place near him at court where my wife and I shall be safe. But if the king be made to keep these new laws, I said, the lend will have peace and our trade will grow. If we lend he will fight again. Who hath made thee a law-giver in England? said Elias. I know these people. Let the dogs tear one another. I will lend the king ten thousand pieces of gold and he can fight the barons at his pleasure. There are not two thousand pieces of gold in all England this summer, I said, for I kept the accounts and I knew how the earth's gold moved. That wonderful underground river. Elias barred home the windows and, his hands about his mouth, he told me how, when he was trading with small wares in a French ship, he had come to the castle of Pevensey. Oh! said Dan, Pevensey again, and looked at Euna who nodded and skipped. There, after they had scattered his pack up and down the Great Hall, some young knights carried him to an upper room and dropped him into a well in a wall that rose and fell with the tide. They called him Joseph, and they threw torches at his wet head. Why not? I, of course, cried Dan, didn't you know it was a— Puck held up his hand to stop him, and Cadmeal, who never noticed, went on. When the tide dropped he thought he stood on old armour, but feeling with his toes he raked up bar upon bar of soft gold. Some wicked treasure of the old days put away, and the secret cut off by the sword, I have heard the like before. So have we, Euna whispered, but it wasn't wicked a bit. Elias took a morsel of the stuff with him, and thrice-yearly he would return to Pevensey as a Chapman, selling at no price or profit, till they suffered him to sleep in the empty room, where he would plumb and grope and steal away a few bars. The great store of it still remained, and by long brooding he had come to look on it as his own. Yet when we thought how we should lift and convey it, we saw no way. This was before the word of the Lord had come to me. A walled fortress possessed by Normans, in the midst of forty-foot tidewell, out of which to remove secretly many horse-loads of gold. Hopeless! so Elias wept. Adar, his wife, wept too. She had hoped to stand beside the queen's Christian tiring-maids at court, when the king should give them that place at court which he had promised. Why not? She was born in England. An odious woman. The present evil to us was that Elias, out of his strong folly, had, as it were, promised the king that he would arm him with more gold. Wherefore the king in his camp stopped his ears against the barons and the people. Wherefore men died daily. Adar so desired her place at court she besought Elias to tell the king where the treasure lay, that the king might take it by force, and they would trust in his gratitude. Why not? This Elias refused to do, for he looked on the gold as his own. They quarreled, and they wept at the evening meal, and late in the night came one Langton, a priest, almost learned, to borrow more money for the barons. Elias and Adar went to their chamber. Cadmille laughed scornfully in his beard. The shots across the valley stopped as the shooting party changed their ground for the last beat. So it was I, not Elias, he went on quietly, that made terms with Langton touching the fortieth of the new laws. What turns? said Puck quickly. The fortieth of the great charter say, to none will we sell, refuse, or deny right or justice. True, but the barons had written first, to no free man. It cost me two hundred broad pieces of gold to change those narrow words. Langton, the priest, understood. Do though thou art, said he, the change is just, and if ever Christian and Jew come to be equal in England, thy people may thank thee. Then he went out stealthily, as men do, who deal with Israel by night. I think he spent my gift upon his altar. Why not? I have spoken with Langton. He was such a man as I might have been if we Jews had been a people, but yet in many things a child. I heard Elias and Adar above stairs, quarrel, and knowing the woman was the stronger, I saw that Elias would tell the king of the gold, and that the king would continue in his stubbornness. Therefore I saw that the gold must be put away from the reach of any man. All of a sudden the word of the Lord came to me, saying, The morning is come, O thou that dwellest in the land. Cadmiel halted, all black against the pale green sky beyond the wood, a huge robed figure like the Moses in the picture Bible. I rose, I went out, and as I shut the door on that house of foolishness, the woman looked from the window and whispered, I have prevailed upon my husband to tell the king. I answered, There is no need, the Lord is with me. In that hour the Lord gave me full understanding of all that I must do, and his hand covered me in my ways. First I went to London, to a physician of our people who sold me certain drugs that I needed. You shall see why. Thence I went swiftly to Pevensey. Men fought all around me, for there were neither rulers nor judges in the abominable land. Yet when I walked by them they cried out that I was one a herceurus, a Jew, condemned, as they believe, to live for ever, and they fled from me every ways. Thus the Lord saved me for my work, and at Pevensey I bought me a little boat, and moored it on the mud beneath the marge gate of the castle. That also God showed me. He was as calm as though he were speaking of some stranger, and his voice filled the little bare wood with rolling music. I cast, his hand went to his breast, and again the strange jewel gleamed. I cast the drugs which I had prepared into the common well of the castle. Nay, I did no harm. The more we physicians know, the less we do. Only the fool says, I dare. I caused a blotched and itching rush to break out upon their skins, but I knew it would fade in fifteen days. I did not stretch out my hand against their life. They in the castle thought it was the plague, and they ran forth, taking with them their very dogs. A Christian physician, seeing that I was a Jew and a stranger, vowed that I had brought the sickness from London. This is the one time I have ever heard a Christian leech speak truth of any disease. Therefore the people beat me, but a merciful woman said, Do not kill him now, push him into our castle with his plague, and if, as he says, it will abate on the fifteenth day, we can kill him then. Why not? They drove me across the drawbridge of the castle, and fled back to their booth. Thus I came to be alone with the treasure. But did you know this was all going to happen just right? said Euna. My prophecy was that I should be a law-giver to a people of a strange land and a hard speech. I knew I should not die. I washed my cuts. I found the Tidewell in the wall, and from Sabbath to Sabbath I dove and dug there in that empty Christian-smelling fortress. Hey! I spoiled the Egyptians. Hey! If they had only known it, I drew up many good loads of gold which I loaded by night into my boat. There had been gold dust, too, but that had been washed away by the tides. Didn't you ever wonder who had put it there? said Dan, stealing a glance at Puck's calm, dark face under the hood of his gown. Puck shook his head and pursed his lips. Often, for the gold was new to me, Cadmiel replied. I know the golds. I can judge them in the dark, but this was heavier and redder than any we-dealing. Perhaps it was the very gold of Parvain. Hey! Why not? It went to my heart to heave it onto the mud, and I saw well that if the evil thing remained, or if even the hope of finding it remained, the king would not sign the new laws, and the land would perish. Oh! Marvel! said Puck, beneath his breath, rustling in the dead leaves. When the boat was loaded I washed my hands seven times and peered beneath my nails, for I would not keep one grain. I went out by the little gate where the castle's refuse is thrown. I dared not hoist sail, lest men should see me, but the Lord commanded the tide to bear me carefully, and I was far from land before the morning. Weren't you afraid? said Euna. Why? There were no Christians in the boat. At sunrise I made my prayer and cast the gold, all, all that gold into the deep sea. A king's ransom. No, the ransom of a people. When I had loosed hold of the last bars, the Lord commanded the tide to return me to a haven at the mouth of a river, and thence I walked across a wilderness to Lewis, where I had brethren. They opened the door to me, and they say—I had not eaten for two days— they say that I fell across the threshold, crying, I have sunk an army with horsemen in the sea. But you hadn't, said Euna. Oh, yes, I see. You meant that King John might have spent it on that. Even so, said Cadmille. The firing broke out again close behind them. The pheasants poured over the top of a belt of tall furs. They could see young Mr. Meyer in his new yellow gaiters, very busy and excited at the end of the line, and they could hear the thud of the falling birds. But what did Elias of Berry do? demanded Puck. He had promised money to the king. Cadmille smiled grimly. I sent him word from London that the Lord was on my side. When he heard that the plague had broken out in pevency, and that a Jew had been thrust into the castle to cure it, he understood my word was true. He and Adar hurried to Lewis and asked me for an accounting. He still looked on the gold as his own. I told them where I had laid it, and I gave them full leave to pick it up. Eh, well, the curses of a fool and the dust of a journey, are two things no wise man can escape. But I pitied Elias. The king was roth at him because he could not lend. The barons were roth at him because they had heard that he would have lent to the king. And Adar was roth at him because she was an odious woman. They took ship from Lewis to Spain. That was wise. And you? Did you see the signing of the law at Runnymede? Said Puck, as Cadmille laughed noiselessly. Nay! Who am I to meddle with things too high for me? I returned to Berry and lent money on the autumn crops. Why not? There was a crackle overhead, a cock pheasant that had cheered aside after being hit, spattered down almost on top of them, driving up the dry leaves like a shell. Flora and Folly threw themselves at it. The children rushed forward, and when they had beaten them off and smoothed down the plumage Cadmille had disappeared. Well, said Puck calmly, what did you think of it? Whelan gave the sword, the sword gave the treasure, and the treasure gave the law. It's as natural as an oak growing. I don't understand. Didn't he know it was Sir Richard's old treasure? Said Dan. And why did Sir Richard and Brother Hugh leave it lying about? And— And— Never mind, said Euna politely. He'll let us come and go and look and know another time. Won't you, Puck? Another time may be, Puck answered. It's cold and late. I'll race you towards home. They hurried down into the sheltered valley. The sun had almost sunk behind Cherry Clack. The trodden ground by the cattle gates was freezing at the edges, and the new-waked north wind blew the night on them from over the hills. They picked up their feet and flew across the browned pastures, and when they halted, panting in the steam of their own breath, the dead leaves whirled up behind them. There was oak and ash and thorn enough in that year-end shower to magic away a thousand memories. So they trotted to the brook at the bottom of the lawn, wondering why Flora and Folly had missed the quarry-hole fox. Old Hobdon was just finishing some hedgework. They saw his white-smock glimmer in the twilight where he faggoted the rubbish. Winter, he's come, I reckon, Mustan, he called. Hard times now till Hethel Cuckoo Fair. Yes, we'll all be glad to see the old woman let the cuckoo out of the basket for her to start lawful spring in England. They heard a crash and a stamp and a splash of water as though a heavy old cow were crossing almost under their noses. Hobdon ran forward angrily to the ford. Gleason bull again, playing robin all over the farm. Oh, look, Mustan, his great footmark as big as a trencher, no bound to his impudence. He might count himself to be a man or somebody. A voice the other side of the brook boomed. I marvel who his cloak would turn when Puck had led him round or where those waking fires would burn. Then the children went in singing farewell rewards and fairies at the tops of their voices. They had forgotten that they had not even said good night to Puck. The children's song. Land of our birth we pledge to thee our love and toil in the years to be when we are grown and take our place as men and women with our race. Father in heaven who lovest all O help thy children when they call that they may build from age to age an undefiled heritage. Teach us to bear the yoke in youth with steadfastness and careful truth that in our time thy grace may give the truth whereby the nations live. Teach us to rule ourselves all way controlled and cleanly night and day that we may bring if need arise no maimed or worthless sacrifice. Teach us to look in all our ends on thee for judge and not our friends that we with thee may walk uncow'd by fear or favour of the crowd. Teach us the strength that cannot seek by deed or thought to hurt the weak that under thee we may possess man's strength to comfort man's distress. Teach us delight in simple things and mirth that has no bitter springs forgiveness free of evil done and love to all men neath the sun. Land of our birth, our faith our pride for whose dear sake our fathers died O motherland, we pledge to thee head, heart and hand through the years to be. End of Section 10, The Treasure and the Law and End of Puck of Pooke's Hill by Rudyard Kipling.