Gerda was obliged to rest again, and just opposite the place where
she sat, she saw a great crow come hopping across the snow toward her.
He stood looking at her for some time, and then he wagged his head and
said, "Caw, caw; good-day, good-day." He pronounced the words as
plainly as he could, because he meant to be kind to the little girl;
and then he asked her where she was going all alone in the wide world.
The word alone Gerda understood very well, and knew how much it
expressed. So then she told the crow the whole story of her life and
adventures, and asked him if he had seen little Kay.
The crow nodded his head very gravely, and said, "Perhaps I
have--it may be."
"No! Do you think you have?" cried little Gerda, and she kissed
the crow, and hugged him almost to death with joy.
"Gently, gently," said the crow. "I believe I know. I think it may
be little Kay; but he has certainly forgotten you by this time for the
princess."
"Does he live with a princess?" asked Gerda.
"Yes, listen," replied the crow, "but it is so difficult to
speak your language. If you understand the crows' language then I
can explain it better. Do you?"
"No, I have never learnt it," said Gerda, "but my grandmother
understands it, and used to speak it to me. I wish I had learnt it."
"It does not matter," answered the crow; "I will explain as well
as I can, although it will be very badly done;" and he told her what
he had heard. "In this kingdom where we now are," said he, "there
lives a princess, who is so wonderfully clever that she has read all
the newspapers in the world, and forgotten them too, although she is
so clever. A short time ago, as she was sitting on her throne, which
people say is not such an agreeable seat as is often supposed, she
began to sing a song which commences in these words:
'Why should I not be married?'
'Why not indeed?' said she, and so she determined to marry if she
could find a husband who knew what to say when he was spoken to, and
not one who could only look grand, for that was so tiresome. Then
she assembled all her court ladies together at the beat of the drum,
and when they heard of her intentions they were very much pleased. 'We
are so glad to hear it,' said they, we were talking about it ourselves
the other day.' You may believe that every word I tell you is true,"
said the crow, "for I have a tame sweetheart who goes freely about the
palace, and she told me all this."
Of course his sweetheart was a crow, for "birds of a feather flock
together," and one crow always chooses another crow.
"Newspapers were published immediately, with a border of hearts,
and the initials of the princess among them. They gave notice that
every young man who was handsome was free to visit the castle and
speak with the princess; and those who could reply loud enough to be
heard when spoken to, were to make themselves quite at home at the
palace; but the one who spoke best would be chosen as a husband for
the princess. Yes, yes, you may believe me, it is all as true as I sit
here," said the crow. "The people came in crowds. There was a great
deal of crushing and running about, but no one succeeded either on the
first or second day. They could all speak very well while they were
outside in the streets, but when they entered the palace gates, and
saw the guards in silver uniforms, and the footmen in their golden
livery on the staircase, and the great halls lighted up, they became
quite confused. And when they stood before the throne on which the
princess sat, they could do nothing but repeat the last words she
had said; and she had no particular wish to hear her own words over
again. It was just as if they had all taken something to make them
sleepy while they were in the palace, for they did not recover
themselves nor speak till they got back again into the street. There
was quite a long line of them reaching from the town-gate to the
palace. I went myself to see them," said the crow. "They were hungry
and thirsty, for at the palace they did not get even a glass of water.
Some of the wisest had taken a few slices of bread and butter with
them, but they did not share it with their neighbors; they thought
if they went in to the princess looking hungry, there would be a
better chance for themselves."
"But Kay! tell me about little Kay!" said Gerda, "was he amongst
the crowd?"
"Stop a bit, we are just coming to him. It was on the third day,
there came marching cheerfully along to the palace a little personage,
without horses or carriage, his eyes sparkling like yours; he had
beautiful long hair, but his clothes were very poor."
"That was Kay!" said Gerda joyfully. "Oh, then I have found
him;" and she clapped her hands.
"He had a little knapsack on his back," added the crow.
"No, it must have been his sledge," said Gerda; "for he went
away with it."
"It may have been so," said the crow; "I did not look at it very
closely. But I know from my tame sweetheart that he passed through the
palace gates, saw the guards in their silver uniform, and the servants
in their liveries of gold on the stairs, but he was not in the least
embarrassed. 'It must be very tiresome to stand on the stairs,' he
said. 'I prefer to go in.' The rooms were blazing with light.
Councillors and ambassadors walked about with bare feet, carrying
golden vessels; it was enough to make any one feel serious. His
boots creaked loudly as he walked, and yet he was not at all uneasy."
"It must be Kay," said Gerda, "I know he had new boots on, I
have heard them creak in grandmother's room."
"They really did creak," said the crow, "yet he went boldly up
to the princess herself, who was sitting on a pearl as large as a
spinning wheel, and all the ladies of the court were present with
their maids, and all the cavaliers with their servants; and each of
the maids had another maid to wait upon her, and the cavaliers'
servants had their own servants, as well as a page each. They all
stood in circles round the princess, and the nearer they stood to
the door, the prouder they looked. The servants' pages, who always
wore slippers, could hardly be looked at, they held themselves up so
proudly by the door."
"It must be quite awful," said little Gerda, "but did Kay win
the princess?"
"If I had not been a crow," said he, "I would have married her
myself, although I am engaged. He spoke just as well as I do, when I
speak the crows' language, so I heard from my tame sweetheart. He
was quite free and agreeable and said he had not come to woo the
princess, but to hear her wisdom; and he was as pleased with her as
she was with him."
"Oh, certainly that was Kay," said Gerda, "he was so clever; he
could work mental arithmetic and fractions. Oh, will you take me to
the palace?"
"It is very easy to ask that," replied the crow, "but how are we
to manage it? However, I will speak about it to my tame sweetheart,
and ask her advice; for I must tell you it will be very difficult to
gain permission for a little girl like you to enter the palace."
"Oh, yes; but I shall gain permission easily," said Gerda, "for
when Kay hears that I am here, he will come out and fetch me in
immediately."
"Wait for me here by the palings," said the crow, wagging his head
as he flew away.
It was late in the evening before the crow returned. "Caw, caw,"
he said, "she sends you greeting, and here is a little roll which she
took from the kitchen for you; there is plenty of bread there, and she
thinks you must be hungry. It is not possible for you to enter the
palace by the front entrance. The guards in silver uniform and the
servants in gold livery would not allow it. But do not cry, we will
manage to get you in; my sweetheart knows a little back-staircase that
leads to the sleeping apartments, and she knows where to find the
key."
Then they went into the garden through the great avenue, where the
leaves were falling one after another, and they could see the light in
the palace being put out in the same manner. And the crow led little
Gerda to the back door, which stood ajar. Oh! how little Gerda's heart
beat with anxiety and longing; it was just as if she were going to
do something wrong, and yet she only wanted to know where little Kay
was. "It must be he," she thought, "with those clear eyes, and that
long hair." She could fancy she saw him smiling at her, as he used
to at home, when they sat among the roses. He would certainly be
glad to see her, and to hear what a long distance she had come for his
sake, and to know how sorry they had been at home because he did not
come back. Oh what joy and yet fear she felt! They were now on the
stairs, and in a small closet at the top a lamp was burning. In the
middle of the floor stood the tame crow, turning her head from side to
side, and gazing at Gerda, who curtseyed as her grandmother had taught
her to do.
"My betrothed has spoken so very highly of you, my little lady,"
said the tame crow, "your life-history, Vita, as it may be called,
is very touching. If you will take the lamp I will walk before you. We
will go straight along this way, then we shall meet no one."
"It seems to me as if somebody were behind us," said Gerda, as
something rushed by her like a shadow on the wall, and then horses
with flying manes and thin legs, hunters, ladies and gentlemen on
horseback, glided by her, like shadows on the wall.
"They are only dreams," said the crow, "they are coming to fetch
the thoughts of the great people out hunting."
"All the better, for we shall be able to look at them in their
beds more safely. I hope that when you rise to honor and favor, you
will show a grateful heart."
"You may be quite sure of that," said the crow from the forest.
They now came into the first hall, the walls of which were hung
with rose-colored satin, embroidered with artificial flowers. Here the
dreams again flitted by them but so quickly that Gerda could not
distinguish the royal persons. Each hall appeared more splendid than
the last, it was enought to bewilder any one. At length they reached a
bedroom. The ceiling was like a great palm-tree, with glass leaves
of the most costly crystal, and over the centre of the floor two beds,
each resembling a lily, hung from a stem of gold. One, in which the
princess lay, was white, the other was red; and in this Gerda had to
seek for little Kay. She pushed one of the red leaves aside, and saw a
little brown neck. Oh, that must be Kay! She called his name out quite
loud, and held the lamp over him. The dreams rushed back into the room
on horseback. He woke, and turned his head round, it was not little
Kay! The prince was only like him in the neck, still he was young
and pretty. Then the princess peeped out of her white-lily bed, and
asked what was the matter. Then little Gerda wept and told her
story, and all that the crows had done to help her.
"You poor child," said the prince and princess; then they
praised the crows, and said they were not angry for what they had
done, but that it must not happen again, and this time they should
be rewarded.
"Would you like to have your freedom?" asked the princess, "or
would you prefer to be raised to the position of court crows, with all
that is left in the kitchen for yourselves?"
Then both the crows bowed, and begged to have a fixed appointment,
for they thought of their old age, and said it would be so comfortable
to feel that they had provision for their old days, as they called it.
And then the prince got out of his bed, and gave it up to Gerda,--he
could do no more; and she lay down. She folded her little hands, and
thought, "How good everyone is to me, men and animals too;" then she
closed her eyes and fell into a sweet sleep. All the dreams came
flying back again to her, and they looked like angels, and one of them
drew a little sledge, on which sat Kay, and nodded to her. But all
this was only a dream, and vanished as soon as she awoke.
The following day she was dressed from head to foot in silk and
velvet, and they invited her to stay at the palace for a few days, and
enjoy herself, but she only begged for a pair of boots, and a little
carriage, and a horse to draw it, so that she might go into the wide
world to seek for Kay. And she obtained, not only boots, but also a
muff, and she was neatly dressed; and when she was ready to go, there,
at the door, she found a coach made of pure gold, with the
coat-of-arms of the prince and princess shining upon it like a star,
and the coachman, footman, and outriders all wearing golden crowns
on their heads. The prince and princess themselves helped her into the
coach, and wished her success. The forest crow, who was now married,
accompanied her for the first three miles; he sat by Gerda's side,
as he could not bear riding backwards. The tame crow stood in the
door-way flapping her wings. She could not go with them, because she
had been suffering from headache ever since the new appointment, no
doubt from eating too much. The coach was well stored with sweet
cakes, and under the seat were fruit and gingerbread nuts.
"Farewell, farewell," cried the prince and princess, and little
Gerda wept, and the crow wept; and then, after a few miles, the crow
also said "Farewell," and this was the saddest parting. However, he
flew to a tree, and stood flapping his black wings as long as he could
see the coach, which glittered in the bright sunshine.