128 lines
6.4 KiB
Standard ML
128 lines
6.4 KiB
Standard ML
HOW THE ELVES FIRST MET SANTA.....
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______________________________________________________________________________
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Limlim the Hunter dwelt with his people in the farthest reaches of the
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Canadian forst. Every day he went forth to find food for all the others.
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They ate well because of Limlim's skill, enjoying the juiciest meat, the
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plumpest berries, the tastiest spring water.
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The elves were happy, and they were safe.
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Then one day a fire raged through their forest. The elves fled before it --
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and when they returned a charred blackness was all that remained.
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Limlim sat down on a blackened stump and wept. The elves' home was gone.
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Their animal friends were all dead. Nothing remained but sorrow.
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But when Limlim finally raised his weeping, downcast eyes, he saw that the
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others had little sorrow. His wife came close and tugged his beard impishly.
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"Life was meant to be merry," she cried. "Find us meat, Limlim, and we'll
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all rejoice that at least we can eat!"
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Limlim stood steadfastly before them and made a vow, tweaking his ears in
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emphasis, as is the elvish custom: "I will find meat for my people. I will
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not return unsuccessful."
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The people began to rebuild their homes, and Limlim set off alone through
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what remained of the forest. Where before he had seen lush greenness all
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around, now there was only death and destruction from the fire. Where
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before there had been rabbits and squirrels and deer all around, now Limlim
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could find only burnt carcasses.
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He hunted through the day -- and saw no game. That night he went to bed
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hungry, worried about his people, sick at the devastation he saw in
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every direction.
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The next day he arose and continued his search, and the next -- and the
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next. Each day he grew weaker and weaker. He began to despair of ever
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finding anything for his people. He began to fear that even if he did
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find food, he would arrive back too late.
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Then he saw the tracks. An enormous snow deer! Limlim had never seen
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such huge tracks before. He knelt close to the ground and thrust his
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nose right up to one of the tracks. It was fresh! The deer had passed
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only moments before!
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Knowing that game was near gave Limlim new strength. He knew that he
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was right on the edge of the frozen snow country, but he paid no heed.
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He quickly followed the deer out onto the snow and began to track it
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across the rolling hills that led ever farther north. For two days
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Limlim followed the deer. It was always just beyond him, always just
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over the next rise.
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Finally dusk cane on that second day and Limlim knew he could go no
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farther. He went for more than a mile on his hands and knees, crawling
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painfully over the hard, crusted snow. The bitter chill bit through his
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clothes, making him shiver violently, and the snow cut his hands.
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"I'll die in this frozen wasteland," he cried hoarsely, and then his
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strength left him and he fell on his face into the snow.
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That night a fierce storm arose. Wind blew harshly across Limlim's still body.
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Snow began to drift onto his near-frozen hands and face, covering them. The
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smow felt strangely warm to Limlim. "Wonderful, wonderful," he muttered, and
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he slipped into a dream.
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He saw himself sitting by a comfortable hearth, warming his hands at the hot
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fire. Right beside him was a drink of hot brew someone had prepared for him.
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On his feet were thick and heavy skins, expertly wrapped.
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"Ah," he smiled to himself. "May I ever sit warmly by this fire, drinking
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hot brew. If this is heaven, it's even better than I'd hoped! All I lack is
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some steaming meat, my family, and a few friends."
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The thought of his family and friends, stopped the dream. Limlim woke up,
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feeling stiff and numb. He slowly opened his eyes, groggy, and looked around
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him. The wind had stopped and the moon shone above, shining clear and bright
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across the new-fallen snow. And there, far on the horizon, was SOMEONE ELSE!
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Limlim tried to rise, tried to raise his hand to hail the man, tried to shout
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for help. But the effort was too great. All he could do was get his frozen
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fingers to twitch. All he could do was croak out a sound. Utterly weak and
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nearly dead, Limlim fell back into the snow.
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The next thing he knew he was riding on a burly back through the deep snow.
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Wrapped around him was the man's own coat. His stomach gnawed with hunger --
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but his coldness was gone. Instead he felt marvelous warmth radiating from
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the man who had saved him from death.
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"My friends, my friends," Limlim suddenly whispered, tears welling in his
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cold eyes. He realized that the man had saved him, but that his friends
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were probably near death themselves.
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The man heard his whisper. "Your friends are safe," the man said in a
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deep, rich voice. "I have sent help." Nothing more was said. Limlim
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let himself go limp on the man's back. After many hours they entered a
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broad valley with buildings. The valley radiated warmth in the same way
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the man did. In the center of the valley stood a pole. Limlim had
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heard of it in talks over the campfire at night: the North Pole.
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And then he knew. The man was Santa Claus.
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"I thought you were only a story!" Limlim said, his voice full of amazement.
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"A story!" Santa bellowed. "Only a story! You'd better be thankful this
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man who is only a story was around to save your life!" And then he laughed
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so hard Limlim was afraid he would fall off.
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Santa and Mrs. Claus nursed Limlim back to health, first feeding him some
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warm broth and gradually working up to specially aged meat. It was three
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weeks before he felt he could travel again. But he didn't want to leave.
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Santa had found a new forest for his people, and Limlim knew they could
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find a new Hunter.
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"I want to stay with you forever, Santa," Limlim said. "I pledge my
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life to your service. I pledge the service of my family. We will be with
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you as long as the world is. Such is the only way an elf can repay a debt
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of life. You gave me my life when I was frozen in the snow, and now I
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give you my life."
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And so it was that the elves began to serve Santa. Limlim was the first.
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He lived very long, even for an elf, until he was 452. But then he grew
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old and died. After him, his sons served; and then their sons. They find
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great joy in serving Santa Claus. And they love to repeat the story of
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how Santa saved Limlim by carrying him on his back. No story is more often
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told among Santa's elves.
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They are there -- Limlim's great family of elves -- serving Santa to this
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very day.
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