As Elsa sang she cautiously stepped along, she knew not where; till, faintly through the thick shrouding mist, there came the soft tinkle, tinkle of a little bell. Listening, she knew at once that it must be fastened to the collar of some cow, for such bells in Finland are very sweet-toned and clear.
Sure enough, in a little while she heard the trampling of hoofs, and the whole herd, drawn by the sound of her voice, was thronging about her.
But Elsa was used to the herds on her father’s farm, and was really glad to feel the warm breath of the gentle little Finnish cows. As the leader came close to her she put up her hand and patted its nose; then slipping her fingers through the narrow leathern strap from which the bell hung, she walked along beside the cow.
This proved to be the very best thing she could have done; for the herd was going home, and the cows seemed to know their way instinctively, even in spite of the white fog.
They walked thus a long way, till after a while the fog began to lift somewhat; and though it was growing dusk Elsa could distinguish the outline of a comfortable-looking farmhouse. It was not the Ringstrom farm, where she had expected to pass the night, but a strange place that she had never before seen. The usual lane of birch trees led up to the house, and behind it was a long, low barn, whither the cows seemed to be directing their way.
As she walked along beside them she was thinking of what she had best do, and she found herself very much perplexed. In truth she had set out upon a very difficult errand for a little girl, and had good Fru Sveaborg had the least idea of the distance or possible dangers of the journey she never would have given her consent; while had Elsa’s father been at home,—but then it is useless thinking things might have been managed differently. Meanwhile there was Elsa trudging along in the midst of the herd, wondering much who were the dwellers at the farm, and, on the whole, not a little frightened.
By this time she had a pretty definite idea that she had started on a rather reckless undertaking, and she fancied that perhaps the people at the farm might think so too, and would not allow her to go farther; and as she was determined at any risk to reach the peasant Ulricborg and save the rune, she decided at last that she would not go to the house.
So she kept with the herd, and when the cows reached the door of the great barn, she slipped in between them, unseen in the fog and gathering dusk; for though the sun would not quite disappear, it hung low and dim on the horizon and shed but faint light through the misty air. Within, the barn was arranged much like the one at her home, though on a far larger scale. In one corner was a large pile of soft sweet-smelling hay, and going to this Elsa set down her basket and kantele, and curled herself up for the night.
As she looked about through half-shut, sleepy eyes, she saw in the center of the wide earthen floor a stone fireplace, and there over some blazing fagots stood a great iron kettle; beside it two ruddy-faced girls were hard at work stirring the long marsh grass that was boiling for the cows’ supper. Elsa would have very much liked to make herself known to these girls, for she was used to doing things openly and did not at all enjoy hiding there in the corner; but then she thought of the precious rune and the possibility that they might stop her journey, and so she remained quiet. As she nestled down in the soft, warm hay, however, she thought to herself that they could not possibly mind having a little girl sleep in it for just one night, and so reasoning she kept on drowsily watching the movements of the two girls.