“It is well,” said Summer.
They walked in silence for a time, while night came forth.
“The honeysuckle’s petals fell when you blew your horn,” said Summer. “Some of my children will die at the moment when I leave the valley. But the nightingale and the cuckoo and the stork I shall take with me.”
Again the two princes walked in silence. It was quite still, only the owls hooted in the old oak.
“You must send my birds after me,” said Summer.
“I shall not forget,” replied Autumn.
Then the Prince of Summer raised his hand in farewell and bade Autumn take possession of the kingdom.
“I shall go to-night,” he said. “And none will know save you. My splendour will linger in the valley for a while. And by-the-by, when I am far away and my reign is forgotten, the memory of me will revive once more with the sun and the pleasant days.”
Then he strode away in the night. But from the high tree-top came the stork on his long wings; and the cuckoo fluttered out of the tall woods; and the nightingale flew from the thicket with her full-grown young.
The air was filled with the soft murmurings of wings.