Personally he
had little to fear, but the punishment for mortals entering Frozen
Nose's realm was death, and Flax-Flower was mortal.
With the speed for which he was so celebrated, Boreas slid over the
ground in a southerly direction, never stopping until he had come upon
what seemed to be a river which led down to a dark forest of pine-trees.
He was now at least three thousand miles from the Storm King's palace,
and could afford to rest Wiping his brow, and panting still with his
recent efforts, Boreas drew a corner of the bundle of furs away from the
face of Flax-Flower, and looked at the sleeping child. As he did so a
thrill of tenderness made him long to kiss her, but he knew that his
rough caress would chill her with fear. So, softly wrapping her up
again, he plunged into the pine forest. Stopping again when in the
middle of it, he gave a shrill whistle, which was responded to by one
fainter and farther away, and presently a dwarf in the garb of an
Esquimau emerged from the dusky gloom, and bending low, said,
"What will you, my master?"
"I would see thy lord, the good St. Nicholas--the Storm King's enemy. Is
he at home?"
"He is at home, but he is no man's enemy. What message shall I bear
him?"
"Tell him that Boreas, of the Frozen Noses, awaits him." The dwarf
vanished, and returned.
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