They all bowed obedience, and asked when this great task should be commenced.
"Let the preparation for this arduous undertaking go forward," she said, "now while the summer is with us. Waste not the time; let our whole people be employed in making instruments suitable for breaking the crust which confines the treasure we are going to bring forth for the benefit of mankind. We must hasten to our work and be diligent. I dismiss you, but assemble again when next the dreary winter is past and the genial sun warms the buds into leaflets—when the upland rills have found their voices once more, and come leaping from their hidden birthplaces."
The gentle summer had passed, the winter had again come and gone, and the troops were gathering in response to the command of their mistress. They had been industrious. Each came armed with a stout staff, made from the toughest wood and shod with the hardest flint. In myriads they arrived—whole armies of them—and eagerly awaited the command to go forward. They moved in column, headed by captains, down the steep declivities. They toiled with a will. Many died of fatigue, but their places were soon filled by other eager workers. At length their toil was rewarded, and the bright and beautiful waters gushed forth in great fountains.
The fairies have long since disappeared, but the waters still flow and fill the little valley with sweet, health-giving streams.
