(Could it be that they believed Peter Minuit’s glass
baubles possessed the same worth as the Alven’ s
Treasure-Stone?)
For slow centuries, the exotic Dracs and Fadas
from the Riviera had sported and dozed on the
beaches of newfound Florida. Perhaps the metal-
clashing landfall of the Conquistadores took them
by surprise, and they fled without taking time to
disenchant their Fountain of Youth ….
Can you imagine the host of Fair People in flight
across the wide, wild continent, scuttling inland like
crabs from the rising tide, dashing like foxes before
an inexorable pack of hounds?
Can you picture Yo-Rib and his companions
standing, at length, in a few small, heartbroken
bands, their backs to the Pacific, as the sky darkens
with the oncoming smoke of trains, and trade, and
towns until the last of the Fair People vanish from
the New World, as they had from the Old?
No. Of course not. Eagles and cougars and buf-
falo may die. Pawnee, Cheyenne, and Apache may
die. Rivers and forests and mountains may die. But
Fairies live on!
The Fair People of the first Passage simply
vanished from the eyes of Man into the environ-
ment, determined to reside unseen in the safety of
the great wilderness of the New World-mountain,
desert, everglade, forest.
With· these original emigres went the Fair Peo-
ple’s treasure: the wonderstohes of their Litany,
encased and protected in treasure casques
fashioned by the Nordic Elves. These too would be
hidden from the eyes of Man.

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