Beate was now a year older. During that year she had lost Little Beate,
but she had never forgotten her.
Big Beate had many dolls given to her, but not one was like Little
Beate. No one was so sweet and good-natured, no one so pretty and
graceful.
It was a Saturday, and the next day, Sunday, she expected her friends,
Marie and Louise, on a visit, for it was her birthday; therefore she
wanted to decorate her doll-house as prettily as she could.
Beate knew what to do. On the hillside by the Black Pond she remembered
that she had seen the prettiest little snail shells anyone might wish
for--round and fluted, with yellow and brown markings. They would be
just the thing for her bureau. She ran off to search for them, slipping
in and out through the hazel bushes, and picking empty shells by the
dozen.
But all of a sudden she heard a bird utter such a weird cry from the
lake. She peeped out between the green branches and saw a big bird
swimming about. It had a long blue neck and a white breast, but its back
was shining black. It swam fast, and then suddenly dived and was gone.
Beate stood there and stared at the water, hoping to see the bird
come up again, but she waited and waited in vain. She was frightened,
thinking it was drowned, when she saw it shoot up again far away, almost
in the middle of the lake. Then it began to swim slowly toward a tiny
green island which lay there, and crept into the high weeds and grasses
that hung over the water.
Beate could not get tired of looking at the pretty little island. Willow
bushes grew out of the grass in some places, and in one end grew a
little white-barked birch tree. Beate thought she had never seen
anything half so lovely. It seemed just like a strange little land, all
by itself.
At last Beate remembered that she must hurry home. Again she peeped
through the leaves and branches to say good-night to the island,
when--think of it!--the little green island was gone.
She thought of goblins and fairies, and ran up the path to the top of
the hill as fast as she could. But when she got there she had to look
again. And she became more astonished than ever, for now she saw the
little green island again, but far from the place where she first saw
it. It was sailing slowly toward the southern end of the lake, and the
silver birch was its sail.
As soon as Beate reached home she found Anne, the nurse, and told her
what she had seen.
Anne knew all about the floating island: it had been on the lake for
many years, she said. But there were many strange things about it. One
thing she would tell, and that was, that if anyone stood on the floating
island and took a loon's egg out of the nest and wished for something,
that wish would come true, if the egg was put safely back into the nest
again. If you wished to become a Princess of England, your wish would
indeed be fulfilled, said old Anne. But there was one more thing to
notice: you must not talk about it to a living soul.
"Not even to Father and Mother?" asked Beate.
"No," said Anne, "not to a living soul."
Beate could think of nothing but the island all that evening, and when
she had closed her eyes she could dream of nothing else all night.
Just as soon as Beate got up in the morning she begged her father to row
her and Marie and Louise out to the floating island, when they came to
visit her in the afternoon, and that he promised.
But he also asked how she had happened to think of that, and what she
wanted there. Beate thought first that she would tell him everything,
but then she remembered Anne's words, and said only that she wished to
go out there because the little green island was so pretty.
"Yes, indeed, it is pretty, and you shall see a loon's nest too," said
the father.
Then Beate's face grew red, and the tears came to her eyes, for she knew
well enough about the loon's nest and about the eggs.
In the afternoon the father took the three little girls down to the
lake. Beate's friends thought this was the loveliest place they had ever
seen, and they begged the father to stop and get some of the pretty
water-lilies for them. But Beate was longing for the floating island.
The father rowed close up to the island and around it, and when he came
to the other side the loon plunged out of the reeds into the water and
was gone.
"There is the loon's nest," said the father.
What joy! The loon's nest was on the very edge of the little tiny
island, hidden among the grasses, and in the nest were two big
grayish-brown eggs, with black spots, larger than any goose eggs.
Marie and Louise shouted and laughed, but Beate felt strangely
frightened and was very quiet. She begged her father to let her stand on
the island, only a minute, and would he let her take one of the eggs in
her hand?
The father told her she must be very careful just lift the egg gently
between her two fingers, for if the bird noticed that the egg had been
touched she would not hatch it.
And now Beate stood on the green floating island. She was excited when
she bent down to pick up the grayish-brown egg, but lifted it carefully
between two fingers. Now she might wish for anything in the wide, wide
world.
And what do you think she wished for? To become a Princess of England?
Oh, no, she knew something far better than that. Then her lips moved
softly, and she whispered to herself: "I wish that Little Beate was with
me once more, and would never, never leave me." Carefully she put the
egg back into the nest.
What was the pink something her eye now caught sight of among the tall
reeds close to the nest? It was her doll! Beate gave one shriek of joy.
"Little Beate, my own Little Beate," she sobbed, when she had her own
dearest friend in her arms again. She covered her with tears and kisses,
and held her tight in her arms as if she would never in the world let
her go.
Her father, Marie, and Louise stood by without saying a word. At last
the father kissed his little girl, and lifted her on to the raft again.
Such a birthday party as Beate had now! What did it matter that a year's
rains and snows had faded Little Beate's cheeks and bleached her brown
curls? She was the guest of honor, and sat on the prettiest chair. She
had all the cookies and chocolate that she wanted. She was petted and
loved; and at night, tired and happy, Big Beate slept with her little
friend in her arms.