When her sons spoke thus to her, the mother was greatly vexed.
"I will kill you," she said, "if you speak of it."
In fear they for a time held their peace, but still taking note that the stranger came so often and by stealth to the lodge, they resolved at last to speak with their father.
Accordingly one day, when they were out in the woods, learning to follow the chase, they told him all that they had seen.
The face of the father grew dark. He was still for a while, and when at length he looked up—
"It is done!" he said. "Do you, my children, tarry here until the hour of the falling of the sun, then come to the lodge and you will find me."
The father left them at a slow pace, and they remained sporting away their time till the hour for their return had come.
When they reached the lodge the mother was not there. They dared not to ask their father whither she had gone, and from that day forth her name was never spoken again in the lodge.
In course of time the two boys had grown to be men, and although the mother was never more seen in the lodge, in charge of her household tasks, nor on the path in the forest, nor by the river side, she still lingered, ever and ever, near the lodge.
Changed, but the same, with ghastly looks and arms that were withered, she appeared to her sons as they returned from the hunt, in the twilight, in the close of the day.