"It is heavy to carry," thought the stork, when it was hung round his neck; "but gold and honour must not be flung away upon the high road. The stork brings luck—they must admit that up yonder."
"Thou layest gold, and I lay eggs," said the stork-mother; "but thou layest only once, and I lay every year. But neither of us gets any thanks, which is very vexatious."
"One knows, however, that one has done one's duty," said the stork-father.
"But that can't be hung up to be seen and lauded; and if it could be, fine words butter no parsnips."
So they flew away.
The little nightingale that sang upon the tamarind tree would also soon be going north, up yonder near "the wild morass." Helga had often heard it—she would send a message by it; for, since she had flown in the magical disguise of the swan, she had often spoken to the storks and the swallows. The nightingale would therefore understand her, and she prayed it to fly to the beech wood upon the Jutland peninsula, where the tomb of stone and branches had been erected. She asked it to beg all the little birds to protect the sacred spot, and frequently to sing over it.
And the nightingale flew away, and time flew also.
And the eagle stood upon a pyramid, and looked in the autumn on a stately procession with richly-laden camels, with armed and splendidly equipped men on snorting Arabian horses shining white like silver, with red trembling nostrils, with long thick manes hanging down to their slender legs. Rich guests—a royal Arabian prince, handsome as a prince should be—approached the gorgeous palace where the storks' nests stood empty. Those who dwelt in these nests were away in the far North, but they were soon to return; and they arrived on the very day that was most marked by joy and festivities. It was a wedding feast; and the beautiful Helga, clad in silk and jewels, was the bride. The bridegroom was the young prince from Arabia. They sat at the upper end of the table, between her mother and grandfather.
But she looked not at the bridegroom's bronzed and manly cheek, where the dark beard curled. She looked not at his black eyes, so full of fire, that were fastened upon her. She gazed outwards upon the bright twinkling stars that glittered in the heavens.