At night they would often mount to the top of the Tower, and there they would sit together on the flat roof, talking of many a stern battle and telling many a tale of love, past and to come. And from their Tower they could see the ocean, which, when the weather was hot, furled and unfurled along the shore its shining waves, and threw them upon the island-coasts like wraiths of fire. And among the polders the will-o’-the-wisps would come a-dancing. And Nele was afraid of them, for she said they were the souls of the poor dead. And true it was that all those places where they danced had once been fields of battle. And the will-o’-the-wisps would oftentimes spring forth from the polders, and run along the dikes, and then return again to the polders, as though unwilling to leave the bodies whence they had come.
One night Nele said to Ulenspiegel:
“Behold how many spirits there are in Dreiveland, and how high they fly! Over there by the Isle of Birds they seem to crowd the thickest. Will you come with me there one night, Tyl? We would take with us the balm that can show us things invisible to mortal eyes.”
But Ulenspiegel answered:
“If you mean the balm we took when we went to the great Sabbath of Spring, I have no more faith or confidence in what we saw there than in any idle dream.”
“It is wrong to deny the power of charms,” said Nele. “Come, Ulenspiegel!”
The next day Ulenspiegel arranged with the magistrate that one of the soldiers who had clear sight and a faithful heart should take his place at the Tower for that one evening. And away he went with Nele towards the Isle of Birds.
They passed along by many a field and dike, till at last they saw the sea in front of them, and in it were set many little green islands with the waves coursing in between. And all about the grassy hills, which soon began to lose themselves in the sand-dunes, a great quantity of peewits were flying high and low, and sea-gulls and sea-swallows. Some of these birds would crowd together on the surface of the sea, and stay there quite still, so that they looked like little white islets; and above them and about flew thousands of their fellows. The very soil itself was full of their nests, and Ulenspiegel stooped down to pick up one of their eggs which was lying on the road. No sooner had he done so than a sea-gull came flapping towards him, crying out the while most dolefully. And in answer to this summons there flew up a hundred other sea-gulls, crying out as if in anguish, hovering about the head of Ulenspiegel and over the neighbouring nests. But they did not dare to approach him.
“Ulenspiegel,” said Nele, “these birds are asking you to have mercy on their eggs.”