"I cannot help that," said Wistik.
They went farther, both of them silent and somewhat discouraged. Then they came to human habitations amid the verdure. They were simple structures of dark wood and white stone, artistically decorated and colored. Vines were growing against the pillars, and from the roofs hung the branches of a strange, thickly leaved plant having red flowers, so that the walls looked as if they were bleeding. Birds were everywhere making their nests, and little golden statues could be seen resting in marble niches. There were no doors nor barriers—only here and there a heavy, many-colored rug hanging before an entrance. It seemed very silent and lonely there, for everybody was away; yet nothing was locked up, nor concealed. An exquisite perfume was smoldering in bronze basins in front of the houses, and columns of blue smoke coiled gently up into the still air.
Then they ventured farther into the forest that lay behind the houses. It was dusky twilight there, and all was solemnly and mysteriously silent. The moss grew thick upon the massive rocks between which the mighty chestnut and cedar trees took root. Foaming rivulets were flowing down; and frequently it seemed to Johannes as if he saw some creature—a deer or other animal—peep at him, and then dart away between the tree-trunks. "What are they? Deer?" asked Johannes.
"Indeed, no!" said Wistik, lifting a finger. "Only listen! They are laughing. Deer do not laugh."
Truly, Johannes heard every now and then, as he saw a figure disappear in the twilight of the woods, a soft peal of laughter—clearly, human laughter.
"Now! now we are going to see him!" said Wistik.
"Who?" asked Johannes.
"Pst!" said Wistik, very mysteriously, pointing toward an open place in the forest.
Johannes saw there such a pretty and captivating spectacle that he stood speechless, with only a light laugh of joy and amazement.