Gerda was obliged to rest again, and just opposite the place where she
sat she saw a great crow come hopping toward her across the snow. 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 felt how much it
expressed. So 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 really 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 learned it," said Gerda, "but my grandmother
understands it, and used to speak it to me. I wish I had learned 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 with 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. She assembled all
her court ladies at the beat of the drum, and when they heard of her
intentions they were very much pleased.
"'We are so glad to hear of 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 hops 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, and 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 the 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 a long procession 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 even get 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 the others
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 among the
crowd?"
"Stop a bit; we are just coming to him. It was on the third day that
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 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; councilors 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 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 each a page. 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 as well as I do when I speak the crows'
language. I heard this 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 lights in
the palace being put out in the same manner. And the crow led little
Gerda to a back door which stood ajar. Oh! how her heart beat with
anxiety and longing; it was 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 all been at home because he did not come back. Oh, what
joy and yet what 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 curtsied 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 story 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."
"I feel as if somebody were behind us," said Gerda, as something rushed
by her like a shadow on the wall; and then it seemed to her that horses
with flying manes and thin legs, hunters, ladies and gentlemen on
horseback, glided by her like shadows.
"They are only dreams," said the crow; "they are coming to carry the
thoughts of the great people out hunting. All the better, for if their
thoughts are out hunting, 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 enough to bewilder 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 center 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 loudly 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;
still he was young and pretty. Out of her white-lily bed peeped the
princess, and asked what was the matter. 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 with them for what they had done,
but that it must not happen again, and that 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 it would be so comfortable, they
said, to feel that they had made provision for it.
[Illustration: The prince and princess themselves helped her into the
coach.]
And then the prince got out of his bed and gave it up to Gerda--he could
not do more--and she lay down. She folded her little hands and thought,
"How good everybody is to me, both men and animals"; then she closed
her eyes and fell into a sweet sleep. All the dreams came flying back
again to her, looking like angels now, and one of them drew a little
sledge, on which sat Kay, who nodded to her. But all this was only a
dream. It vanished as soon as she awoke.
The following day she was dressed from head to foot in silk and velvet
and invited 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 out into the wide world to seek for Kay.
And she obtained not only boots but a muff, and 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 upon 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 doorway flapping her wings. She
could not go with them, because she had been suffering from headache
ever since the new appointment, no doubt from overeating. 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 parting was even more sad. However he flew to a tree
and stood flapping his black wings as long as he could see the coach,
which glittered like a sunbeam.