One morning I went to the well for water. When I looked into it I saw, not my own image, but the image of a young man. I drew up my pitcher filled with water, and went back to the Spae-Woman’s house. At noontide Baun went to the well for water. She came back and her pitcher was only half-filled. Before dark Deelish went to the well. She came back without a pitcher, for it fell and broke on the flags of the well.
The next day Baun and Deelish each plaited their hair, and they said to her who was foster-mother for the three of us: “No one will come to marry us in this far-away place. We will go into the world to seek our fortunes. So,” said they, “bake a cake for each of us before the fall of the night.”
The Spae-Woman put three cakes on the griddle and baked them. And when they were baked she said to Baun and Deelish: “Will you each take the half of the cake and my blessing, or the whole of the cake without my blessing?” And Baun and Deelish each said, “The whole of the cake will be little enough for our journey.”
Each then took her cake under her arm and went the path down the knowe. Then said I to myself, “It would be well to go after my foster-sisters for they might meet misfortune on the road.” So I said to my foster-mother, “Give me the third cake on the griddle until I go after my foster-sisters.”
“Will you have half of the cake and my blessing or the whole of the cake without my blessing?” said she to me.
“The half of the cake and your blessing, mother,” said I.
She cut the cake in two with a black-handled knife and gave me the even half of it. Then said she:—
May the old sea’s
Seven Daughters
They who spin
Life’s longest threads,
Protect and guard you!
She put salt in my hand then, and put the Little Red Hen under my arm, and I went off.
I went on then till I came in sight of Baun and Deelish. Just as I caught up on them I heard one say to the other, “This ugly, freckled girl will disgrace us if she comes with us.” They tied my hands and feet with a rope they found on the road and left me in a wood.