And so the beautiful woman took him by the hand. The storm had passed away, and the sun was shining on the green leaves of the trees, and every drop of dew sparkled like a diamond. The birds were all warbling their morning hymns, and feeding their young ones in their nests. The streams were also dancing down the rocks and through the glens. “The mountains broke forth into singing, and all the trees clapped their hands with joy.” Everything thus seemed so happy to Eric, for he himself was happy at the thought of doing what was right, and of going home. The lady led him to a sunny glade in the wood, covered with wild flowers, from which the bees were busy gathering their honey, and she said, “Now, child, are you willing to do your father’s will?”
“Oh yes!”
“Will you do it, whatever dangers may await you?”
“Yes!”
“Well, then, I must tell you that your father has given me the gold thread you lost; and he bids me remind you that if you keep hold of it, and follow it wherever it leads, you are sure to come to him at sunset; but if you let it go, you may wander on in this dark forest till you die, or are again taken prisoner by robbers.”
“Oh, bless you,” said Eric, “for such good news! I am resolved to do my duty, come what may.”
“May you be helped to do it!” said the lady. She then gave him a cake, to support him in his journey. “And now, child,” she added, “one advice more I will give you, and it was given you by your father, though you forgot it; it is this—if ever you feel the thread slipping from your hands, or are yourself tempted to let it go, pray immediately, and you will get wisdom and strength to find it, to lay hold of it, and follow it. Before we part, kneel down and ask assistance to be good and obedient, brave and patient, until you meet your father.”
The little boy knelt down and repeated the Lord’s Prayer; and as he said, “Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in heaven,” he felt calm and happy as he used to do when he knelt at his mother’s knee, and he thought her hand was on his head, and that she kissed his cheek and blessed him. When he lifted up his head there was no one there but himself; but he saw an old gray cross, and a Gold Thread was tied to it, and passed away, away, shining through the woods.
With a firm hold of his gold thread, the boy began his journey home. He passed along pathways on which the brown leaves of last year’s growing were thickly strewn, and from among which flowers of every colour were springing. He crossed little brooks that ran like silver threads and tinkled like silver bells. He went under trees with huge trunks, and huge branches that swept down to the ground and waved far up in the blue sky. The birds hopped about him, and looked down upon him from among the green leaves, and they sang him songs, and some of them seemed to speak to him. He thought one large bird like a crow cried, “Good boy, good boy!” and another whistled, “Cheer up, cheer up!” and so he went merrily on, and very often he gave the robins and blackbirds that came near him bits of his cake.
After a while, he came to a green spot in the middle of the wood, without trees, and a footpath went direct across it, to the place where the gold thread was leading him, and there he saw a sight that made him wonder and pause. It was a bird about the size of a pigeon, with feathers like gold and a crown like silver, and it was slowly walking not far from him, and he saw gold eggs glittering in a nest among the grass a few yards off. Now he thought it would be such a nice thing to bring home a nest with gold eggs! The bird did not seem afraid of him, but stopped and looked at him with a calm blue eye, as if she said, “Surely you would not rob me?” He could not, however, reach the nest with his hand, and though he pulled and pulled the thread, it would not yield one inch, but seemed as stiff as a wire.