to set eye or hand on the ring. Truly mine heart
oft aches sorely for thy peril; for therein the image
of thee abideth rather as of my daughter than my friend.
Yea, now thou laughest, but kindly, so that the sound
of thy laughter is as sweet music. But know
that though thou art but a young maiden, and I in
all wise like unto thee of aspect, yet have I dwelt
many and many a year upon the earth, and much wisdom
have learned. Trowest thou me?
Yea, yea, said Birdalone, with all my heart.
Then she hung her head a while and kept silence,
and thereafter looked up and spake: I would
ask thee a thing and crave somewhat of thee, as if
thou wert verily my mother; wilt thou grant it me?
Yea, surely, child, said Habundia. Said Birdalone:
This it is then, that thou wilt learn me of thy wisdom.
Habundia smiled full kindly on her, and said:
This of all things I would have had thee ask; and
this day and now shall we begin to open the book of
the earth before thee. For therein is mine heritage
and my dominion. Sit by me, child, and hearken!
So the maiden sat down by her likeness under the oak,
and began to learn her lesson. Forsooth forgotten
is the wisdom, though the tale of its learning abideth,
wherefore nought may we tell thereof.
When it was done, Birdalone kissed her wood-mother
and said: This is now the best day of my life,
this and the day when first I saw thee. I will
come hither now many times before the day of my departure.
Yea, but, sweet child, said Habundia, beware of the
witch and her cruelty; I fear me she shall yet be
grim toward thee. So will I be wary, said Birdalone,
but I will venture some little peril of pain but if
thou forbid me, mother. And I pray thee by thy
love to forbid me not. And this I pray thee
the more, because after one of these grim times then
mostly doth she meddle the less with me for a while,
wherefore I shall be the freer to come hither.
Habundia kissed her and embraced her, and said:
Valiant art thou for a young maiden, my child, and
I would not refrain thee more than a father would refrain
his young son from the strokes of the tilt-yard.
But I pray thee to forget not my love, and my sorrow
for thy grief.
Therewith they sundered, and it was drawing toward
evening. Birdalone sought catch, and brought
home venison to the dame, who was yet blithe with
her, and spake that evening as she eyed her:
I cannot tell how it is, but thou seemest changed
unto me, and lookest more towards thy womanhood than
even yesterday. I mean the face of thee, for
wert thou stripped, lean enough I should see thee,
doubtless. But now look to it, I beseech thee,
to be both deft and obedient, so that I may be as
kind to thee as I would be, and kinder than I have
been heretofore.
Wore the days now, till on a night of October, toward
the end thereof, the witch went a-night-tide to the
Sending Boat, and Birdalone followed her as erst.
This time the night was wild and windy, but the moon
was high aloft and big, and all cloud save a few flecks
was blown from off the heavens; so that the night was
as light as could be; and even at the tree-hung creek
it was easy to see all that was done. And so
it was that the witch did and spake in all wise as
she did before.
