And the maiden had no fear. She laughed in sheer happiness when they told her again and again of the beautiful country to which they journeyed.
For into that land, the cranes told her, neither cold nor hunger came. They would show her the richest grain-fields. They would tell her where the sweetest berries grew. They would show her wondrous blossoms which grew for her in the distant summer-land.
The beautiful maiden was never again seen in the cold, dreary Northland, for to this day she wanders beside the sweet-voiced streams in the far-off summer-land.
But season by season the cranes, with wide-spread wings and hoarse cries, return to the Northland at nesting-time.
There they remain through the short sunny summer, but when the first snowflakes flutter through the air the cranes prepare to fly away.
And even to this day they circle about on widespread wings as though they again carried the beautiful maiden.
Even to this day the cranes, young and old, shout so loudly the praises of the summer-land that their voices are hoarse and harsh.