queen saw this, she rubbed her face with walnut-juice, so that she was
quite brown; then she tangled her beautiful hair and smeared it with
disgusting ointment, till it was quite impossible to recognize the
beautiful Eliza.
When her father saw her, he was much shocked, and declared she was
not his daughter. No one but the watch-dog and the swallows knew
her; and they were only poor animals, and could say nothing. Then poor
Eliza wept, and thought of her eleven brothers, who were all away.
Sorrowfully, she stole away from the palace, and walked, the whole
day, over fields and moors, till she came to the great forest. She
knew not in what direction to go; but she was so unhappy, and longed
so for her brothers, who had been, like herself, driven out into the
world, that she was determined to seek them. She had been but a
short time in the wood when night came on, and she quite lost the
path; so she laid herself down on the soft moss, offered up her
evening prayer, and leaned her head against the stump of a tree. All
nature was still, and the soft, mild air fanned her forehead. The
light of hundreds of glow-worms shone amidst the grass and the moss,
like green fire; and if she touched a twig with her hand, ever so
lightly, the brilliant insects fell down around her, like
shooting-stars.
All night long she dreamt of her brothers. She and they were
children again, playing together. She saw them writing with their
diamond pencils on golden slates, while she looked at the beautiful
picture-book which had cost half a kingdom. They were not writing
lines and letters, as they used to do; but descriptions of the noble
deeds they had performed, and of all they had discovered and seen.
In the picture-book, too, everything was living. The birds sang, and
the people came out of the book, and spoke to Eliza and her
brothers; but, as the leaves turned over, they darted back again to
their places, that all might be in order.
When she awoke, the sun was high in the heavens; yet she could not
see him, for the lofty trees spread their branches thickly over her
head; but his beams were glancing through the leaves here and there,
like a golden mist. There was a sweet fragrance from the fresh green
verdure, and the birds almost perched upon her shoulders. She heard
water rippling from a number of springs, all flowing in a lake with
golden sands. Bushes grew thickly round the lake, and at one spot an
opening had been made by a deer, through which Eliza went down to
the water. The lake was so clear that, had not the wind rustled the
branches of the trees and the bushes, so that they moved, they would
have appeared as if painted in the depths of the lake; for every
leaf was reflected in the water, whether it stood in the shade or
the sunshine. As soon as Eliza saw her own face, she was quite
terrified at finding it so brown and ugly; but when she wetted her
little hand, and rubbed her eyes and forehead, the white skin
gleamed forth once more; and, after she had undressed, and dipped
herself in the fresh water, a more beautiful king's daughter could not
be found in the wide world. As soon as she had dressed herself
again, and braided her long hair, she went to the bubbling spring, and
drank some water out of the hollow of her hand. Then she wandered
far into the forest, not knowing whither she went. She thought of
her brothers, and felt sure that God would not forsake her. It is
God who makes the wild apples grow in the wood, to satisfy the hungry,
and He now led her to one of these trees, which was so loaded with
fruit, that the boughs bent beneath the weight. Here she held her
noonday repast, placed props under the boughs, and then went into
the gloomiest depths of the forest. It was so still that she could
hear the sound of her own footsteps, as well as the rustling of
every withered leaf which she crushed under her feet. Not a bird was
to be seen, not a sunbeam could penetrate through the large, dark
boughs of the trees. Their lofty trunks stood so close together, that,
when she looked before her, it seemed as if she were enclosed within
trellis-work. Such solitude she had never known before. The night
was very dark. Not a single glow-worm glittered in the moss.
Sorrowfully she laid herself down to sleep; and, after a while, it
seemed to her as if the branches of the trees parted over her head,
and that the mild eyes of angels looked down upon her from heaven.
When she awoke in the morning, she knew not whether she had dreamt
this, or if it had really been so. Then she continued her wandering;
but she had not gone many steps forward, when she met an old woman
with berries in her basket, and she gave her a few to eat. Then
Eliza asked her if she had not seen eleven princes riding through
the forest.
"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?"
"Yes, take me with you," said Eliza. Then they spent the whole
night in weaving a net with the pliant willow and rushes. It was
very large and strong. Eliza laid herself down on the net, and when
the sun rose, and her brothers again became wild swans, they took up
the net with their beaks, and flew up to the clouds with their dear
sister, who still slept. The sunbeams fell on her face, therefore
one of the swans soared over her head, so that his broad wings might
shade her. They were far from the land when Eliza woke. She thought
she must still be dreaming, it seemed so strange to her to feel
herself being carried so high in the air over the sea. By her side lay
a branch full of beautiful ripe berries, and a bundle of sweet
roots; the youngest of her brothers had gathered them for her, and
placed them by her side. She smiled her thanks to him; she knew it was
the same who had hovered over her to shade her with his wings. They
were now so high, that a large ship beneath them looked like a white
sea-gull skimming the waves. A great cloud floating behind them
appeared like a vast mountain, and upon it Eliza saw her own shadow
and those of the eleven swans, looking gigantic in size. Altogether it
formed a more beautiful picture than she had ever seen; but as the sun
rose higher, and the clouds were left behind, the shadowy picture
vanished away. Onward the whole day they flew through the air like a
winged arrow, yet more slowly than usual, for they had their sister to
carry. The weather seemed inclined to be stormy, and Eliza watched the
sinking sun with great anxiety, for the little rock in the ocean was
not yet in sight. It appeared to her as if the swans were making great
efforts with their wings. Alas! she was the cause of their not
advancing more quickly. When the sun set, they would change to men,
fall into the sea and be drowned. Then she offered a prayer from her
inmost heart, but still no appearance of the rock. Dark clouds came
nearer, the gusts of wind told of a coming storm, while from a
thick, heavy mass of clouds the lightning burst forth flash after
flash. The sun had reached the edge of the sea, when the swans
darted down so swiftly, that Eliza's head trembled; she believed
they were falling, but they again soared onward. Presently she
caught sight of the rock just below them, and by this time the sun was
half hidden by the waves. The rock did not appear larger than a seal's
head thrust out of the water. They sunk so rapidly, that at the moment
their feet touched the rock, it shone only like a star, and at last
disappeared like the last spark in a piece of burnt paper. Then she
saw her brothers standing closely round her with their arms linked
together. There was but just room enough for them, and not the
smallest space to spare. The sea dashed against the rock, and
covered them with spray. The heavens were lighted up with continual
flashes, and peal after peal of thunder rolled. But the sister and
brothers sat holding each other's hands, and singing hymns, from which
they gained hope and courage. In the early dawn the air became calm
and still, and at sunrise the swans flew away from the rock with
Eliza. The sea was still rough, and from their high position in the
air, the white foam on the dark green waves looked like millions of
swans swimming on the water. As the sun rose higher, Eliza saw
before her, floating on the air, a range of mountains, with shining
masses of ice on their summits. In the centre, rose a castle
apparently a mile long, with rows of columns, rising one above
another, while, around it, palm-trees waved and flowers bloomed as
