How to describe the music?
It sang in our ears, promising everything we'd never had and always wanted. It promised ice-cream and cake for breakfast, lunch and tea. It contained the faint clip-clop of endless pony rides, the yapping of the puppy Mother had never allowed us to have, the meows of the kittens which Father took away. There was the gentle trickle of streams to play in and dam without anyone being annoyed about the subsequent flood, the rustle of leaves from trees far too tall for us to be allowed to climb. Behind it all, there was even the slightest jingle of sleighbells, as though Father Christmas himself would be waiting at the end of that dance.
Do you understand? It promised everything a child had ever longed for. Do not blame us for following - we were children, we knew no better!
And the music lent our bodies energy and grace, allowing us to dance further and better than we ever could have behind it. Even those of us who were clumsy gambolled as well as the rest, and laughed in delight at suddenly possessing a body which would not stumble and trip, sending us to the ground.
Do you wonder why we did not see our parents standing by, silent and disapproving? Our parents who, we felt now, had always forbidden everything fun, everything enjoyable, everything worth having. We saw them, and more than one child, I think, expected to be called back from the fascinating man who promised such glories. When they did not, we took it as a once in a lifetime gift, and danced all the faster before they changed their minds.
We did not wonder about the things the music did not promise us - a mother's hug, a father's firm clap on the back, our own homes, the smell of fresh bread baking in the kitchen and our own soft, comfortable little beds. Why should we wonder or long for such things when we already had them, taking them as much for granted as breathing?
So we danced, laughing in delight at our unbelievable luck, through the village, past our parents, and after the wonderful man who played such sweet music and led us into the mountain.
It wasn't until the mountain closed behind us that we understood everything truly worth having was on the other side.