“See, there is the Yellow Mountain,” she continued, pointing south.
They could not help seeing the Yellow Mountain, for the setting sun reflected its glory upon it and made it shine like red and liquid gold.
“Thou must travel there through the night,” went on the little old woman. “After the sun has set, the moon will rise and shine upon the mountain, and it will be no longer yellow, but like molten silver; and when thou hast arrived at the mountain, which will be about dawn, thou wilt climb its steeps and descend the other side to fields upon fields of nettles. And when thou hast come to the fields of nettles, thou must take off thy shoes and stockings, and bare thine arms, and then thou must pluck the longest nettles at the root, and with them make seven plaits, each plait two yards long. And all the time thou workest thou must not grumble, but sing cheerily, although thou art ready to cry out with pain and fatigue. Thinkest thou, Ellaleen, that thou canst do all this?”
“I will try,” answered the girl. “And when I have made the seven plaits, what am I to do with them?”
“Thou art to return the way thou wentest, bare-footed and bare-armed, bringing with thee the seven plaits of nettles. And when thou art come to the lake on the top of the mountain, the lake that supplies the country, thou art to throw the plaits one by one into the water; and having done so, thou art to return home.”
“And then?” asked Ellaleen.
“And then thou must wait and see what will happen,” replied the little old woman. “And now, Ellaleen, thou must set out on thy hard task, and thou hast indeed my blessing.”
With that the old woman left the girl, with the shadow of evening falling on her.
Ellaleen did as she had been told. She journeyed to the Yellow Mountain, which shone in the moonlight like a pillar of burnished silver, and she arrived at its summit as the day dawned. Then she descended the other side, and soon came to the fields of nettles.
