“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 changed,she knew them immediately.She sprang into their arms,and called them each by name.Then,how happy the princes were at meeting their little sister again,for they recognized her,although she had grown so tall and beautiful.They laughed,and they wept,and very soon understood how wickedly their mother had acted to them all.“We brothers,”said the eldest,“fly about as wild swans,so long as the sun is in the sky;but as soon as it sinks behind the hills,we recover our human shape.Therefore must we always be near a resting place for our feet before sunset;for if we should be flying towards the clouds at the time we recovered our natural shape as men,we should sink deep into the sea.We do not dwell here,but in a land just as fair,that lies beyond the ocean,which we have to cross for a long distance;there is no island in our passage upon which we could pass,the night;nothing but a little rock rising out of the sea,upon which we can scarcely stand with safety,even closely crowded together.If the sea is rough,the foam dashes over us,yet we thank God even for this rock;we have passed whole nights upon it,or we should never have reached our beloved fatherland,for our flight across the sea occupies two of the longest days in the year.We have permission to visit out home once in every year,and to remain eleven days,during which we fly across the forest to look once more at the palace where our father dwells,and where we were born,and at the church,where our mother lies buried.Here it seems as if the very trees and bushes were related to us.The wild horses leap over the plains as we have seen them in our childhood.The charcoal burners sing the old songs,to which we have danced as children.This is our fatherland,to which we are drawn by loving ties;and here we have found you,our dear little sister.Two days longer we can remain here,and then must we fly away to a beautiful land which is not our home;and how can we take you with us?We have neither ship nor boat.”
“How can I break this spell?”said their sister.And then she talked about it nearly the whole night,only slumbering for a few hours.Eliza was awakened by the rustling of the swans'wings as they soared above.Her brothers were again changed to swans,and they flew in circles wider and wider,till they were far away;but one of them,the youngest swan,remained behind,and laid his head in his sister's lap,while she stroked his wings;and they remained together the whole day.Towards evening,the rest came back,and as the sun went down they resumed their natural forms.“To-morrow,”said one,“we shall fly away,not to return again till a whole year has passed.But we cannot leave you here.Have you courage to go with us?My arm is strong enough to carry you through the wood;and will not all our wings be strong enough to fly with you over the sea?”
