said the stork-mamma. "But with you
it's only once in a way, whereas I lay eggs every year; but neither of
us is appreciated--that's very disheartening."

"Still one has one's inward consciousness, mother," replied
stork-papa.

"But you can't hang that round your neck," stork-mamma retorted; "and
it won't give you a good wind or a good meal."

The little nightingale, singing yonder in the tamarind tree, will soon
be going north too. Helga the fair had often heard the sweet bird sing
up yonder by the wild moor; now she wanted to give it a message to
carry, for she had learned the language of birds when she flew in the
swan's plumage; she had often conversed with stork and with swallow,
and she knew the nightingale would understand her. So she begged the
little bird to fly to the beech wood, on the peninsula of Jutland,
where the grave-hill had been reared with stones and branches, and
begged the nightingale to persuade all other little birds that they
might build their nests around the place, so that the song of birds
should resound over that sepulchre for evermore. And the nightingale
flew away--and time flew away.

[Illustration: A MESSAGE TO THE VIKING WOMAN.]

In autumn the eagle stood upon the pyramid and saw a stately train of
richly laden camels approaching, and richly attired armed men on
foaming Arab steeds, shining white as silver, with pink trembling
nostrils, and great thick manes hanging down almost over their slender
legs. Wealthy guests, a royal prince of Arabia, handsome as a prince
should be, came into the proud mansion on whose roof the stork's nests
now stood empty: those who had inhabited the nest were away now, in
the far north; but they would soon return. And, indeed, they returned
on that very day that was so rich in joy and gladness. Here a marriage
was celebrated, and fair Helga was the bride, shining in jewels and
silk. The bridegroom was the young Arab prince, and bride and
bridegroom sat together at the upper end of the table, between mother
and grandfather.

But her gaze was not fixed upon the bridegroom, with his manly
sun-browned cheeks, round which a black beard curled; she gazed not at
his dark fiery eyes that were fixed upon her--but far away at a
gleaming star that shone down from the sky.

Then strong wings were heard beating the air. The storks were coming
home, and however tired the old stork pair might be from the journey,
and however much they needed repose, they did not