Now the maiden came from the sea. Hairukoo heard no sound until she stood before him. Then a soft voice spoke: “The robe is mine, good fisher, pray give it to me.” The man stood awestruck, for never had he seen so lovely a being. She seemed to come from another world. He said, “What is your name, beautiful maiden, and whence do you come?” She answered, “I am one of the virgins who attend the moon. I come with a message of peace to the ocean. I have whispered it into his ear, and now I must fly heavenward.” But Hairukoo replied, “I would see you dance before you leave me.” The moon-maiden answered: “Give me my feather robe, and I will dance a celestial dance.” The peasant refused. “Dance and I will give you your robe.” Then the glittering virgin was angry: “The wicked oni will take you for their own, if you doubt the word of a goddess. I cannot dance without my robe. Each feather has been given to me by the Heavenly Birds. Their love and trust support me.” As she thus spoke the fisher was ashamed, and said, “I have done wrong, and I ask your forgiveness.” Then he gave the robe into her hands. The moon-maiden put it around her.
And now she rose from the ground. She touched the stringed instrument and sang. Clear and infinitely sweet came the notes. It was her farewell to the earth and the sea. It ceased. She broke into a merry trilling song, and began to dance. At one moment she skimmed the surface of the sea, the next her tiny feet touched the topmost branches of [!-- full page illustration --] [!-- blank page --] the tall pine trees. Then she sped past the fisher and smiled as the long grass rustled beneath her. She swept through the air, in and out among the trees, over the bamboo thicket, and under the branches of the blossoming cherry. Still the music went on. Still the maiden danced. Hairukoo looked on in wonder: he thought it must all be a beautiful dream.
At one moment she skimmed the surface of the sea, the next her tiny feet touched the topmost branches of the tall pine trees.
But now the music changed. It was no longer merry. The dance ended. The maiden sang of the moonlight, and of the quiet of evening.
She began to circle in the air. Slowly at first, then more swiftly, she floated over the woods towards the distant mountain. The music and the song rang in the ears of the fisher. The maiden was wafted farther and farther away. Hairukoo watched until he could no longer discern her snow-white form in the sky. But still the music reached him on the breeze. At last it too died away. The fisher was left alone: alone with the sound of the sea, and the fragrance of the pines.