So Little Sister, as the other had told her, cut off two strips from the bark of the birch-tree, and ran home as fast as she could to tell her brother of the happiness which, with only a little waiting, was in store for them. But as she came near home, over the low roof she saw the new moon hanging like a white feather in the air; and, closing her lips, she went in and kissed Fair Brother silently.
He said, “Little Sister, loose out your hair over me, and let me feel the sweet airs; and tell me how the earth sounds, for my heart is sick with sorrow and longing.” She took his hand and laid it upon her heart that he might feel its happy beating, but said no word. Then she sat down at his feet and began to work at the shoes. All the birch-bark she cut into long strips fit for weaving, doing everything as the grey woman had told her.
Fair Brother fretted at her silence, and cried, calling her cruel; but she only kissed his feet, and went on working the faster. And the white birch shoes grew under her hands; and every night she watched and saw the moon growing round.
Fair Brother said, “Little Sister, what have you done with your hair in which you used to fetch home the wind? And why do you never go and bring me flowers or sing me the song of the birds?” And Little Sister looked up and nodded, but never answered or moved from her task, for her fingers were slow, and the moon was quick in its growing.
One night Fair Brother was lying asleep, and his head was filled with dreams of the outer world into which he longed to go. The full moon looked in through the open door, and Little Sister laughed in her heart as she slipped the birch shoes on to his feet. “Now run, dear feet,” she whispered; “but do not outrun mine.”
Up in his sleep leapt Fair Brother, for the dream of the white birch had hold of him. A lady with a dark hood and grey eyes full of the laughter of leaves beckoned him. Out he ran into the moonlight, and Little Sister laughed as she ran with him.
In a little while she called, “Do not outrun me, Fair Brother!” But he seemed not to hear her, for not a bit did he slacken the speed of his running.
Presently she cried again, “Rest with me a while, Fair Brother! Do not outrun me!” But Fair Brother’s feet were fleet after their long idleness, and they only ran the faster. “Ah, ah!” she cried, all out of breath. “Come back to me when you have done running, Fair Brother.” And as he disappeared among the trees, she cried after him, “How will you know the way, since you were never here before? Do not get lost in the wood, Fair Brother!”
She lay on the ground and listened, and could hear the white birch shoes carrying him away till all sound of them died.
When, next morning, he had not returned, she searched all day through the wood, calling his name.