She stood up and put her hands into her breast, quite afraid lest her little heart, which had grown so light, should be caught by a puff of wind and blown right away out of her bosom, and over the hill and into the sea, and be drowned.
And now her eyes would not let her doubt; there by her side stood a handsome youth, with quick-fluttering, posy-embroidered raiment. His long dark hair was full of white plum-blossoms, as though he had just pushed his head through the branches above. His hands also were loaded with the same, and they kept sifting out of his long sleeves whenever he moved his arms. Under the hem of his robe Katipah could see that he had heron’s wings bound about his ankles.
“He must be very good,” thought Katipah, “to be so beautiful! and indeed he must be very good to kiss poor me!”
“Katipah,” said the wonderful youth, “though you do not know me, I know you. It is I who so often helped you to fly your green kite by the shore. I have been up there, and have looked into its blue eyes, and kissed its little red mouth which held the peach-blossom. It was I who made songs in its strings for your heart to hear. I am the West Wind, Katipah—the wind that brings fine weather. ‘Gamma-gata’ you must call me, for it is I who bring back the wings that fly till the winter is over. And now I have come down to earth, to fetch you away and make you my wife. Will you come, Katipah?”
“I will come, Gamma-gata!” said Katipah, and she crouched and kissed the heron-wings that bound his feet; then she stood up and let herself go into his arms.
“Have you enough courage?” asked the West Wind.
“I do not know,” answered Katipah, “for I have never tried.”
“To come with me,” said the Wind, “you need to have much courage; if you have not, you must wait till you learn it. But none the less for that shall you be the wife of Gamma-gata, for I am the gate of the wild geese, as my name says, and my heart is foolish with love of you.” Gamma-gata took her up in his arms, and swung with her this way and that, tossing his way through blossom and leaf; and the sunlight became an eddy of gold round her, and wind and laughter seemed to become part of her being, so that she was all giddy and dazed and glad when at last Gamma-gata set her down.
“Stand still, my little one!” he cried—“stand still while I put on your bridal veil for you; then your blushes shall look like a rose-bush in snow!” So Katipah stood with her feet in the green sorrel, and Gamma-gata went up into the plum-tree and shook, till from head to foot she was showered with white blossom.
“How beautiful you seem to me!” cried Gamma-gata when he returned to ground.