It was in vain to contend. She lay
down beside the fire; deep sleep came upon her; she forgot the events of
the past day; for a time she ceased to think of the young man she loved,
and the old one she hated. In her dreams she had travelled a long
journey, and was seated on the river shore, to rest her tired limbs. The
red light of the dying sun illumined the prairies, she could not have
endured its scorching rays, were it not for the sheltering branches of
the tree under which she had found a resting-place.
The waters of the river beat against her feet. She would fain move, but
something chained her to the spot. She tried to call her mother, but her
lips were sealed, and her voice powerless. She would have turned her
face from the waters, but even this was impossible. Stronger and
stronger beat the waves, and then parted, revealing the dreaded form of
the fairy of the waters.
Harpstenah looked upon death as inevitable; she had ever feared that
terrible race of beings whose home was in the waters. And now the fairy
stood before her!
"Why do you tremble maiden? Only the wicked need fear the anger of the
gods You have never offended us, nor the spirits of the dead.
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