not the ring openly save at such times, or let the witch have sight thereof ever, or she will know that thou hast met me. Dost thou understand, and canst thou remember?
Laughed Birdalone, and took the ring and set it on her finger, and spake aloud even as Habundia had given her the words. Then quoth Habundia, laughing: Now have I lost my friend and sister, for thou art gone, Birdalone. Take off the ring, sweetling, and get thee to thine hunting, for if thou come home empty-handed there will be flyting awaiting thee, or worse.
So Birdalone took off the ring and came back to sight again laughing; then the wood-woman kissed her and turned her heels to her, and was gone; but Birdalone strung her bow, and got to her woodcraft, and presently had a brace of hares, wherewith she went back home to the dame; who indeed girded at her for her sloth, and her little catch in so long a while; but there it ended.
CHAPTER XIV. OF BIRDALONE’S FISHING.
Now were the days wearing toward wheat-harvest, and nought befel to tell of, save that on a morn the witch-wife called Birdalone to her, and said: Now is little to be done till the wheat is ready for the hook, and thy days are idle; or what is that word that fell from thee that other day, that there be good swims for fish about the eyots? Canst thou swim across bearing thine angle, and back again therewith, and thy catch withal? Yea, certes, said Birdalone gaily; with one hand I may swim gallantly, or with my legs alone, if I stir mine arms ever so little. I will go straightway if thou wilt, lady; but give me a length of twine so that I may tie my catch about my middle when I swim back again.
Therewith she went forth lightly to fetch her angle, which was in a shed without; but just as she took it in her hand, a sudden thought came to her, so wary as she was grown. She undid the bosom of her gown, and took forth her serpent-ring; for she bore it next to her skin, made fast to the bosom of her smock; but now she hid it carefully in the thickest of her brow-hair, which was very thick and soft. Withal the tress of Habundia’s hair she bore ever mingled with her own.
No sooner had she done it, but she was glad; for she heard the dame calling her, who, when she came to the house-door, spake and said: Now shall I fare with thee down to the water, and look to thy garments lest they be fouled by some straying beast. And therewith she looked curiously on Birdalone, and knit her brows when she saw that the maiden changed countenance in nowise.
Down to the water went they, and the witch sat down close to where Birdalone should take the water, and watched her do off her raiment, and eyed her keenly when she was bare, but said nought. Birdalone turned her head as she stood knee-deep, and said: How long shall I abide, lady, if I have luck? As long as thou wilt, said the dame: most like I shall be gone by then thou comest back, even if thou be away no long while.
Fell Birdalone to swimming then, and when she was more than half over, the witch, stirring no more than need was, got hold of her raiment, which was but the old grey coat over a smock, and ransacked it, but found nought, as well ye may wot. And when she had done, she sat down again in heavy mood as it seemed, and watched Birdalone swimming, and when she beheld her body come forth out of the water, and pass out of sight amongst the flowers of the eyot, she arose and went her ways home.
Birdalone looked through the willow-boughs, and saw her turn away; then she fared to her fishing with a smile, and soon had plenteous catch from under the willow-boughs. Then, whereas the day was very calm and fair, and the dame had given her holiday, she wandered about the eyot, and most in a little wood of berry-trees, as quicken and whitebeam and dog-wood, and sported with the birds, who feared her not, but came and sat on her shoulders, and crept about her feet. She went also and stood a while on the southern shore, and looked on the wide water dim in the offing under the hot-weather haze, and longed to be gone beyond it. Then she turned away, and to the other shore, and gat her fish and strung them on the string, and made them fast to her middle, and so took the water back again to the yellow strand, where now was no one awaiting her. But before she did on her garments, she looked on them, and saw that they lay not as she had left them, whereby she knew well that the witch-wife had handled them.
Amidst all this the day was wearing to an end, and again she saw the smoke of the cooking-fire going up into the air from the chimney of the house; and she smiled ruefully, thinking that the witch might yet find an occasion for ransacking her raiment. But she plucked up heart, and came home with her catch, and the dame met her with a glum face, and neither praised her nor blamed her, but took the fish silently. Such ending had that day.
CHAPTER XV. BIRDALONE WEARETH HER SERPENT-RING.
After this she went once and again fishing on to Green Eyot by the bidding of the dame, who went not again to the shore with her. These times she had half a mind to go see the Sending Boat, but durst not, lest the thing itself might have life enough to tell of her.
And now was come the time of wheat-harvest, and Birdalone must wear her days swinking in the acre-land, clad but in smock and shoes; and the toil was hard, and browned her skin and hardened her hands, but it irked her not, for the witch let her work all alone, and it was holiday unto the maiden if her mistress were not anigh, despite those words which had somewhat touched her heart that other day.
But when wheat-getting was done, there was again rest for her body, and swimming withal and fishing from the eyot by the witch’s leave. And again by her own leave she went to seek Habundia in the wood, and spent a happy hour with her, and came back with a fawn which she had shot, and so but barely saved her skin from the twig-shower. Then yet again she went into the wood on the witch’s errand as well as her own, and was paid by her friend’s sweet converse, and by nought else save the grudging girding of her mistress.
But on a night when September was well in, and the sky was moonless and overcast, somewhat before midnight the dame came and hung over Birdalone as she lay abed, and watched to see if she waked; forsooth the witch’s coming had waked her; but even so she was wary, and lay still, nor changed her breathing. So the witch turned away, but even therewith Birdalone made a shift to get a glimpse of her, and this she saw thereby, that the semblance of her was changed, and that she bore the self-same skin wherewith she had come to Utterhay, and which she had worn twice or thrice afterwards when she had an errand thither.
The witch now glided swiftly to the door, and out into the night. Birdalone lay still a little, lest she should fall into a trap, and then arose very quietly and did on her smock, which lay ever under her pillow with the ring sewn thereto again, and so went out adoors also, and deemed she saw the witch some way on ahead; but it was nothing for her light feet to overtake her. So she stayed to take the ring from her smock, and set it on her finger; then in a low voice she said:
To left and right,
Before, behind,
Of me be sight
As of the wind!
Then boldly she sped on, and was soon close on the heels of the witch, who made her way to the edge of the lake, and then turned east, and went even as Birdalone had gone when she came across the Sending Boat.
So fared the witch-wife straight to the creek-side, and Birdalone must needs stick close to her, or she had known nought, so black was the night amongst the alder-boughs. But the witch-wife fumbled about a while when she was stayed by the creek, and presently drew somewhat from under her cloak, and the maiden saw that she was about striking flint upon steel, and quaked somewhat, lest her charm had played
