It flapped its wings, making round rings about itself, which spread farther and farther over the dark surface of the water. Then it began to swim again very slowly towards a tiny green island which lay there. When it came to the island it stretched its neck and looked carefully around to all sides. Then it crept up into the high weeds and grasses which hung out over the water.
Beate could not get tired of looking at the pretty little island. It was so pretty and so little, not bigger than one-quarter of the parlor floor, and oblong, with here and there tiny bays and points. Willow bushes grew out of the grass in some places and in one end grew a little white-barked birch tree. Beate thought she had never seen anything half so lovely as the little green island on the black water. It seemed just like a strange little land, all by itself. She kept watching it through the bushes hoping all the time the bird would come again, but it stayed on the island.
At last the evening breeze began to ruffle the surface of the water a little and Beate remembered that she must hurry home. She bent down to pick a few more snail shells which she might give to Marie and Louise. Again she looked up and peeped through the leaves and branches to say good-night to the island, when—think of it! The little green island was gone.
Beate wouldn't believe her own eyes, she thought she must have moved without knowing it, so that the bushes hid the island from her, but no, she was sitting exactly in the same spot.
She thought of goblins and fairies and ran up the path to the top of the hill as fast as she could. But when she got there she had to look again. And she became more astonished than ever for now she saw the little green island again but far from the place where she first saw it. It was sailing slowly towards the southern end of the lake and the silver birch was its sail.
As soon as Beate reached home she found Anne, the nurse, and told her what she had seen.
Anne knew all about the floating island, it had been on the lake for many years, she said. But there were many strange things about it. Every time there was to be a fine year for the farmers the island was green all summer, but if there was to be a bad year the grass on it grew yellow and brown and there were but few leaves on the little birch. Yes, old Anne would not be surprised if there appeared blood red spots on the island in years of warfare and trouble.
Every year there was a loon's nest there, and Anne had her own opinions both of the loon and the island; but when Beate wanted to know more, old Anne only shook her head, for she was not the kind that told everything she knew.
But one thing she would tell and that was, that if anyone stood on the floating island and took a loon's egg out of the nest and wished for something, that wish would come true, if the egg was put safely back into the nest again. If you wished to become the Princess of England your wish would indeed be fulfilled, said old Anne. But there was one more thing to notice; you must not talk about it to a living soul.
"Not even to Father and Mother?" asked Beate.