s that appeared to weep, and from the frog-mouth came forth a
croaking like the voice of a child bursting into tears. She leant
first over the one, then over the other, brought water in her hollow
hand, which had become larger and more capacious by the webbed skin,
and poured it over them; but dead they were, and dead they would
remain, she at last understood. Soon wild beasts would come and tear
their dead bodies; but no, that must not be! so she dug up the earth
as well as she could, in the endeavour to prepare a grave for them.
She had nothing to work with but a stake and her two hands encumbered
with the webbed skin that grew between the fingers, and which were
torn by the labour, so that the blood flowed over them. At last she
saw that her endeavours would not succeed. Then she brought water and
washed the dead man's face, and covered it with fresh green leaves;
she brought green boughs and laid them upon him, scattering dead
leaves in the spaces between. Then she brought the heaviest stones she
could carry and laid them over the dead body, stopping up the
interstices with moss. And now she thought the grave-hill would be
strong and secure. The night had passed away in this difficult
work--the sun broke through the clouds, and beautiful Helga stood
there in all her loveliness, with bleeding hands, and with the first
tears flowing that had ever bedewed her maiden cheeks.

[Illustration: HELGA IN THE TREE.]

Then in this transformation it seemed as if two natures were striving
within her. Her whole frame trembled, and she looked around, as if she
had just awoke from a troubled dream. Then she ran towards the slender
tree, clung to it for support, and in another moment she had climbed
to the summit of the tree, and held fast. There she sat like a
startled squirrel, and remained the whole day long in the silent
solitude of the wood, where everything is quiet, and, as they say,
dead. Butterflies fluttered around in sport, and in the neighbourhood
were several ant-hills, each with its hundreds of busy little
occupants moving briskly to and fro. In the air danced a number of
gnats, swarm upon swarm, and hosts of buzzing flies, lady-birds, gold
beetles, and other little winged creatures; the worm crept forth from
the damp ground, the moles came out; but except these all was silent
around--silent, and, as people say, dead--for they speak of things as
they understand them. No one noticed Helga, but some flocks of crows,
th