She watched for a long time, hoping always to catch sight of them again; but though her cloud drifted over all kinds of country, she could not find the Puralkas until at last, one day, as she leaned out, to her great joy the little green space came below her again; and there were the long-legged birds, dancing backwards and forwards as they had done before.
She watched them breathlessly, until her cloud began to float away; and then she decided in her mind that she could not bear to let them go again. Indeed, she knew now that unless she could do as they did, she would never feel happy any more. "I have seen all there is in the world," she said, "and nothing is half so beautiful as dancing. I know I could dance far better than the Puralkas, if I only knew the way. I will go down and get them to teach me how to dance. Then I can fly back to my cloud, and for ever after I shall not need to look at the world, for I shall be too happy dancing on the clouds."
So Kari spread her great wings and floated down the sky until she came over the little green space among the trees. Then she dropped gently, and finally landed in the swamp, which she did not like at all, because she had never before had her feet wet, nor were they made for wading in the soft mud of a swamp. She scrambled out as quickly as she could, folding her wings over her back.
The Puralkas had run back to the edge of their little dancing-ground when they saw the great brown bird coming down from the sky. At first they were inclined to fly away, but they were inquisitive birds, and they waited to see what she would do, though they were quite prepared for flight if she proved to be alarming. But the Emu looked so simple and meek, and she was so comically upset at getting her feet wet, that the Puralkas saw at once that there was no cause for fear. As they were not afraid, they became rather angry, for they did not like strangers to see them dancing. So they clustered together and watched her with unfriendly eyes as she struggled out of the mud and wiped her feet upon the grass.
"How are you?" she said, rather breathlessly. "I have been watching you all from my home in the clouds, and I think you are nice little birds!"
Now, this made the Puralkas exactly seventeen times more angry than before. They believed that they were quite the most beautiful birds that ever wore feathers, and it made them furious to be addressed in this patronizing manner. Who was this awkward brown monster of a bird, to drop out of nowhere and talk to them as if she were a Queen? They chattered among themselves in a whisper.
"She is as ugly as a Jew-lizard," said one.
"Did ever anyone see such great coarse feet?" another whispered. "And her legs!—he-he! Why, they are as thick as the trunk of a tree-fern!"
"And what a great silly head!"
"She is larger than a big rock, but she is more foolish than a coot," said another. "One look at her will tell you that she has no sense."