THE MARSH KING'S DAUGHTER [1]
"You must know it at once," said he. "The daughter of our host
in Egypt has arrived here. She has ventured to take this journey,
and now she is lost."
"She who sprung from the race of the fairies, is it?" cried the
mother stork. "Oh, tell me all about it; you know I cannot bear to
be kept waiting at a time when I am hatching eggs."
"Well, you see, mother," he replied, "she believed what the
doctors said, and what I have heard you state also, that the
moor-flowers which grow about here would heal her sick father; and she
has flown to the north in swan's plumage, in company with some other
swan-princesses, who come to these parts every year to renew their
youth. She came, and where is she now!"
"You enter into particulars too much," said the mamma stork,
"and the eggs may take cold; I cannot bear such suspense as this."
"Well," said he, "I have kept watch; and this evening I went among
the rushes where I thought the marshy ground would bear me, and
while I was there three swans came. Something in their manner of
flying seemed to say to me, 'Look carefully now; there is one not
all swan, only swan's feathers.' You know, mother, you have the same
intuitive feeling that I have; you know whether a thing is right or
not immediately."
"Yes, of course," said she; "but tell me about the princess; I
am tired of hearing about the swan's feathers."
"Well, you know that in the middle of the moor there is
something like a lake," said the stork-papa. "You can see the edge
of it if you raise yourself a little. Just there, by the reeds and the
green banks, lay the trunk of an elder-tree; upon this the three swans
stood flapping their wings, and looking about them; one of them
threw off her plumage, and I immediately recognized her as one of
the princesses of our home in Egypt. There she sat, without any
covering but her long, black hair. I heard her tell the two others
to take great care of the swan's plumage, while she dipped down into
the water to pluck the flowers which she fancied she saw there. The
others nodded, and picked up the feather dress, and took possession of
it. I wonder what will become of it? thought I, and she most likely
asked herself the same question. If so, she received an answer, a very
practical one; for the two swans rose up and flew away with her swan's
plumage. 'Dive down now!' they cried; 'thou shalt never more fly in
the swan's plumage, thou shalt never again see Egypt; here, on the
moor, thou wilt remain.' So saying, they tore the swan's plumage
into a thousand pieces, the feathers drifted about like a snow-shower,
and then the two deceitful princesses flew away."
"Why, that is terrible," said the stork-mamma; "I feel as if I
could hardly bear to hear any more, but you must tell me what happened
next."
"The princess wept and lamented aloud; her tears moistened the
elder stump, which was really not an elder stump but the Marsh King
himself, he who in marshy ground lives and rules. I saw myself how the
stump of the tree turned round, and was a tree no more, while long,
clammy branches like arms, were extended from it. Then the poor
child was terribly frightened, and started up to run away. She
hastened to cross the green, slimy ground; but it will not bear any
weight, much less hers. She quickly sank, and the elder stump dived
immediately after her; in fact, it was he who drew her down. Great
black bubbles rose up out of the moor-slime, and with these every
trace of the two vanished. And now the princess is buried in the
wild marsh, she will never now carry flowers to Egypt to cure her
father. It would have broken your heart, mother, had you seen it."
"You ought not to have told me," said she, "at such a time as
this; the eggs might suffer. But I think the princess will soon find
help; some one will rise up to help her. Ah! if it had been you or
I, or one of our people, it would have been all over with us."
I mean to go every day," said he, "to see
in Egypt has arrived here. She has ventured to take this journey,
and now she is lost."
"She who sprung from the race of the fairies, is it?" cried the
mother stork. "Oh, tell me all about it; you know I cannot bear to
be kept waiting at a time when I am hatching eggs."
"Well, you see, mother," he replied, "she believed what the
doctors said, and what I have heard you state also, that the
moor-flowers which grow about here would heal her sick father; and she
has flown to the north in swan's plumage, in company with some other
swan-princesses, who come to these parts every year to renew their
youth. She came, and where is she now!"
"You enter into particulars too much," said the mamma stork,
"and the eggs may take cold; I cannot bear such suspense as this."
"Well," said he, "I have kept watch; and this evening I went among
the rushes where I thought the marshy ground would bear me, and
while I was there three swans came. Something in their manner of
flying seemed to say to me, 'Look carefully now; there is one not
all swan, only swan's feathers.' You know, mother, you have the same
intuitive feeling that I have; you know whether a thing is right or
not immediately."
"Yes, of course," said she; "but tell me about the princess; I
am tired of hearing about the swan's feathers."
"Well, you know that in the middle of the moor there is
something like a lake," said the stork-papa. "You can see the edge
of it if you raise yourself a little. Just there, by the reeds and the
green banks, lay the trunk of an elder-tree; upon this the three swans
stood flapping their wings, and looking about them; one of them
threw off her plumage, and I immediately recognized her as one of
the princesses of our home in Egypt. There she sat, without any
covering but her long, black hair. I heard her tell the two others
to take great care of the swan's plumage, while she dipped down into
the water to pluck the flowers which she fancied she saw there. The
others nodded, and picked up the feather dress, and took possession of
it. I wonder what will become of it? thought I, and she most likely
asked herself the same question. If so, she received an answer, a very
practical one; for the two swans rose up and flew away with her swan's
plumage. 'Dive down now!' they cried; 'thou shalt never more fly in
the swan's plumage, thou shalt never again see Egypt; here, on the
moor, thou wilt remain.' So saying, they tore the swan's plumage
into a thousand pieces, the feathers drifted about like a snow-shower,
and then the two deceitful princesses flew away."
"Why, that is terrible," said the stork-mamma; "I feel as if I
could hardly bear to hear any more, but you must tell me what happened
next."
"The princess wept and lamented aloud; her tears moistened the
elder stump, which was really not an elder stump but the Marsh King
himself, he who in marshy ground lives and rules. I saw myself how the
stump of the tree turned round, and was a tree no more, while long,
clammy branches like arms, were extended from it. Then the poor
child was terribly frightened, and started up to run away. She
hastened to cross the green, slimy ground; but it will not bear any
weight, much less hers. She quickly sank, and the elder stump dived
immediately after her; in fact, it was he who drew her down. Great
black bubbles rose up out of the moor-slime, and with these every
trace of the two vanished. And now the princess is buried in the
wild marsh, she will never now carry flowers to Egypt to cure her
father. It would have broken your heart, mother, had you seen it."
"You ought not to have told me," said she, "at such a time as
this; the eggs might suffer. But I think the princess will soon find
help; some one will rise up to help her. Ah! if it had been you or
I, or one of our people, it would have been all over with us."
I mean to go every day," said he, "to see