BIRDALONE LAYETH TO EARTH THE BODY OF THE WITCH, AND FINDETH THE
SENDING BOAT BROKEN UP.
When morning was, Birdalone awoke, and felt a weight upon her heart,
and called to mind the task which lay before her. So she arose and clad
herself, and went straight to the grave begun, and toiled hard till she
had digged it out deep, and sithence she dragged the witch thereinto
and heaped the earth upon her. Then she bathed her in the nighest pool
of the brook, and went back into the house and made her breakfast on
the bread and milk, and it was then about mid-morning. Thereafter she
went about the house, and saw to the baking of bread, and so out to the
meadow to see to the kine and the goats, and then stored the milk for
making butter and cheese, and did in all wise as if she were to dwell
long in that stead; but thereafter she rested her body, whiles her
thought went wide about. But she said to herself that she would not go
up to the Oak of Tryst to meet the wood-mother that day, but would
abide the night, in case aught befell that she should tell her.
But when the sun was getting low she roused herself and went out, and
walked about the meadow, and hearkened to the birds’ song, and watched
the kine and the goats as they fed down the pasture; and now a soft
content came over her, that all this was free unto her to hold in
peace, and to take her pleasure in, as much as one lone child of Adam
might do.
At last she wandered down to the sandy bight of the lake and stood
gazing on Green Eyot, where the osiers and willows were grown wild and
long in all these years, and she said that she would swim over to it on
the morrow. But now her feet took her eastward thence toward the haven
of the Sending Boat amongst the alders; for in her heart she would fain
know if there were any tidings for her.
So she went softly along the path by the water, where she had sped so
swiftly that last time, and came at last to the creek-side, and looked
down on to the water somewhat timorously. There then she saw what she
deemed was the very boat itself lying as she had known it; but when she
looked again she saw that it lay from stem to stern all loose staves
with the water betwixt, and the thwarts and ribs all sundered and
undone, so that never again might it float upon the waves. Then she
said in a soft voice: Art thou dead then, as thy mistress is dead? was
it not so that thou wert at the point of death, and she also, when thou
failedst me at the Isle of Increase Unsought? No voice came to her as
she spake; and she said again: Must I then bury thee as I have buried
thy mistress? Nay, that will I not until thou compellest me; belike in
a short while little of the staves of thee shall be left now that the
life is out of thee. Let thy ghost and hers foregather if ye will.
As she spake the last word, she saw a stir about the stern which lay
furthest in up the creek, and while she quaked with failing heart, lo!
a big serpent, mouldy and hairy, grey and brown-flecked, came forth
from under the stern and went into the water and up the bank and so
into the dusk of the alder-wood. Birdalone stood awhile pale and
heartsick for fear, and when her feet felt life in them, she turned and
stole away back again into the merry green mead and the low beams of
the sun, pondering whether this evil creature were the fetch of the
wight who drave the ferry under the blood of the sender.
So she hastened back again to the house, and lit a fire on the hearth,
and fell to cooking her somewhat of grout to her supper; and she
watched the fire, thinking withal: Now if some poor soul be abroad,
they may see the smoke and seek hither, and I may comfort them with
food and shelter and converse; or when night darkens, they may see the
litten windows and come to me; wherefore shall the fire burn yet and
the candles be lighted, for as warm as is the evening, even as if it
were Yule-tide and the snow deep without, and the wind howling in the
woodland trees. And therewith she wept for longing of them that she
loved.
But in a little she dried her tears, and reproached herself for her
much softness; and she ate her supper when she had lighted a candle
(for it was now dark), and again sat looking at the hearth, till she
said: Now am I getting soft again, and who knows but my softness may
tempt the ghosts to come in to me. I will give my hands somewhat to do.
Therewith her eye caught sight of the rents and rags of her old grey
gown, and she smiled somewhat ruefully as she called to mind her
gallant knight’s array, which lay now on the shore of the evil and
ruined isle; and her goodly attire of the days of the Five Crafts; and
the rich raiment wherein her friends of the Castle of the Quest had
clad her. Then she arose and sought needle and thread and some remnants
of green cloth, and did off the ragged coat and fell to patching and
mending it, and so sat at her work in smock-sewing till the night was
old and she was weary and sleep overcame her, and she lay down in her
bed and slept dreamlessly till the sun was high next morning.