“‘No—’ said Sneeflocken with a strange look of weakness and trust upon her little face. ‘No—I am not afraid of them, for the Good Shepherd is very strong. I should be, if it wasn’t for that. How kind he is, Kline, to think about such poor little children as we are! And it’s kind of him to take me away, too, for I’m not very strong—I don’t think I could ever be of much use.’
“‘You are of too much use, my little Sneeflocken,’ said Kline, sadly, ‘because we shouldn’t know what to do without you.’
“‘Why you will have me then,’ said the child looking up in his face. ‘Just as you have the flowers now, Kline. And you can think about me, and say that some day you will go up and up to find me.’
“‘Up to find you!’ said Laaft, who with Norrska had just entered the room. ‘Are you going to play hide-and-seek with Kline upon the mountains, my little dear?’
“But Norrska asked no such questions, for she knew what Sneeflocken meant well enough; but she brought the roast partridge to the bedside, on a little wooden platter that had a row of pine cones carved all round the edge; and sitting down on the bed she watched the child eat her scanty supper when Kline had lifted her up and wrapped an old cloak about her.
“Little Foss had followed them in, and now he sat wagging his tail and beating the floor with it, just because he felt uncomfortable and didn’t know what to do with himself—not at all because he smelt the partridge. For he knew perfectly well that Sneeflocken was sick; and when she had finished her supper, and called ‘Foss! Foss!’—the little dog ran to the bed, and, standing as high as he could on his hind legs thrust his cold nose into her hand, and whined and whimpered with joy and sorrow. Then in a tumult of excitement, he dashed out of the house to bark at the wolves again.
“They watched her so, by day and by night, through the long winter; but before the first spring days came, the little snowflake had melted away and sunk down into the brown earth.
“They made her grave within the little clearing, just between the house windows and the mountain; where the fir tree shadows could just touch it sometimes, but where the sunlight came as well. And within the little white railing that enclosed the grave they placed an upright slab of wood, upon which Kline had carved these words as Norrska desired him:—
“‘Say unto her,—Is it well with thee? is it well with thy husband? is it well with the child? And she answered, It is well.’