THE WILD SWANS [2]
apples grow in the wood, to satisfy the hungry,
and He now led her to one of these trees, which was so loaded with
fruit, that the boughs bent beneath the weight. Here she held her
noonday repast, placed props under the boughs, and then went into
the gloomiest depths of the forest. It was so still that she could
hear the sound of her own footsteps, as well as the rustling of
every withered leaf which she crushed under her feet. Not a bird was
to be seen, not a sunbeam could penetrate through the large, dark
boughs of the trees. Their lofty trunks stood so close together, that,
when she looked before her, it seemed as if she were enclosed within
trellis-work. Such solitude she had never known before. The night
was very dark. Not a single glow-worm glittered in the moss.
Sorrowfully she laid herself down to sleep; and, after a while, it
seemed to her as if the branches of the trees parted over her head,
and that the mild eyes of angels looked down upon her from heaven.
When she awoke in the morning, she knew not whether she had dreamt
this, or if it had really been so. Then she continued her wandering;
but she had not gone many steps forward, when she met an old woman
with berries in her basket, and she gave her a few to eat. Then
Eliza asked her if she had not seen eleven princes riding through
the forest.
"No," replied the old woman, "But I saw yesterday eleven swans,
with gold crowns on their heads, swimming on the river close by." Then
she led Eliza a little distance farther to a sloping bank, and at
the foot of it wound a little river. The trees on its banks
stretched their long leafy branches across the water towards each
other, and where the growth prevented them from meeting naturally, the
roots had torn themselves away from the ground, so that the branches
might mingle their foliage as they hung over the water. Eliza bade the
old woman farewell, and walked by the flowing river, till she
reached the shore of the open sea. And there, before the young
maiden's eyes, lay the glorious ocean, but not a sail appeared on
its surface, not even a boat could be seen. How was she to go farther?
She noticed how the countless pebbles on the sea-shore had been
smoothed and rounded by the action of the water. Glass, iron,
stones, everything that lay there mingled together, had taken its
shape from the same power, and felt as smooth, or even smoother than
her own delicate hand. "The water rolls on without weariness," she
said, till all that is hard becomes smooth; so will I be unwearied
in my task. Thanks for your lessons, bright rolling waves; my heart
tells me you will lead me to my dear brothers." On the foam-covered
sea-weeds, lay eleven white swan feathers, which she gathered up and
placed together. Drops of water lay upon them; whether they were
dew-drops or tears no one could say. Lonely as it was on the
sea-shore, she did not observe it, for the ever-moving sea showed more
changes in a few hours than the most varying lake could produce during
a whole year. If a black heavy cloud arose, it was as if the sea said,
"I can look dark and angry too;" and then the wind blew, and the waves
turned to white foam as they rolled. When the wind slept, and the
clouds glowed with the red sunlight, then the sea looked like a rose
leaf. But however quietly its white glassy surface rested, there was
still a motion on the shore, as its waves rose and fell like the
breast of a sleeping child. When the sun was about to set, Eliza saw
eleven white swans with golden crowns on their heads, flying towards
the land, one behind the other, like a long white ribbon. Then Eliza
went down the slope from the shore, and hid herself behind the bushes.
The swans alighted quite close to her and flapped their great white
wings. As soon as the sun had disappeared under the water, the
feathers of the swans fell off, and eleven beautiful princes,
Eliza's brothers, stood near her. She uttered a loud cry, for,
although they were very much
and He now led her to one of these trees, which was so loaded with
fruit, that the boughs bent beneath the weight. Here she held her
noonday repast, placed props under the boughs, and then went into
the gloomiest depths of the forest. It was so still that she could
hear the sound of her own footsteps, as well as the rustling of
every withered leaf which she crushed under her feet. Not a bird was
to be seen, not a sunbeam could penetrate through the large, dark
boughs of the trees. Their lofty trunks stood so close together, that,
when she looked before her, it seemed as if she were enclosed within
trellis-work. Such solitude she had never known before. The night
was very dark. Not a single glow-worm glittered in the moss.
Sorrowfully she laid herself down to sleep; and, after a while, it
seemed to her as if the branches of the trees parted over her head,
and that the mild eyes of angels looked down upon her from heaven.
When she awoke in the morning, she knew not whether she had dreamt
this, or if it had really been so. Then she continued her wandering;
but she had not gone many steps forward, when she met an old woman
with berries in her basket, and she gave her a few to eat. Then
Eliza asked her if she had not seen eleven princes riding through
the forest.
"No," replied the old woman, "But I saw yesterday eleven swans,
with gold crowns on their heads, swimming on the river close by." Then
she led Eliza a little distance farther to a sloping bank, and at
the foot of it wound a little river. The trees on its banks
stretched their long leafy branches across the water towards each
other, and where the growth prevented them from meeting naturally, the
roots had torn themselves away from the ground, so that the branches
might mingle their foliage as they hung over the water. Eliza bade the
old woman farewell, and walked by the flowing river, till she
reached the shore of the open sea. And there, before the young
maiden's eyes, lay the glorious ocean, but not a sail appeared on
its surface, not even a boat could be seen. How was she to go farther?
She noticed how the countless pebbles on the sea-shore had been
smoothed and rounded by the action of the water. Glass, iron,
stones, everything that lay there mingled together, had taken its
shape from the same power, and felt as smooth, or even smoother than
her own delicate hand. "The water rolls on without weariness," she
said, till all that is hard becomes smooth; so will I be unwearied
in my task. Thanks for your lessons, bright rolling waves; my heart
tells me you will lead me to my dear brothers." On the foam-covered
sea-weeds, lay eleven white swan feathers, which she gathered up and
placed together. Drops of water lay upon them; whether they were
dew-drops or tears no one could say. Lonely as it was on the
sea-shore, she did not observe it, for the ever-moving sea showed more
changes in a few hours than the most varying lake could produce during
a whole year. If a black heavy cloud arose, it was as if the sea said,
"I can look dark and angry too;" and then the wind blew, and the waves
turned to white foam as they rolled. When the wind slept, and the
clouds glowed with the red sunlight, then the sea looked like a rose
leaf. But however quietly its white glassy surface rested, there was
still a motion on the shore, as its waves rose and fell like the
breast of a sleeping child. When the sun was about to set, Eliza saw
eleven white swans with golden crowns on their heads, flying towards
the land, one behind the other, like a long white ribbon. Then Eliza
went down the slope from the shore, and hid herself behind the bushes.
The swans alighted quite close to her and flapped their great white
wings. As soon as the sun had disappeared under the water, the
feathers of the swans fell off, and eleven beautiful princes,
Eliza's brothers, stood near her. She uttered a loud cry, for,
although they were very much