[Original]
She, too, had seen the foot-prints of the Puk-Wudjies on the sandy beach of the little lake, and had heard their merry laughter ring out in the grove of pines. Was it their only dwelling place, she asked herself, or were they not messengers from the Happy Land, sent to show the way to that mortal who believed in it, and longed to enter.
Neen-i-zu came to think that this must be really so. Oftener than ever, she made her way to the meadow bordering on the Spirit Wood, and sat there gazing into the grove. Perhaps the Puk-Wudjies would understand, and tell the fairies whom they served. Then some day a fairy would appear at the edge of the pines, and beckon her to come. That would surely happen, she thought, if she wished it long enough, and could give her wishes wings. So, sitting there, she composed the words of a song, and set it to the music the pines make when the south wind stirs their branches. Then she sang:
Spirit of the laughing leaves,
Fairy of the forest pine,
Listen to the maid who grieves
For that happy land of thine.
From your haunt in summer glade
Hasten to your mournful maid.
Was it only her fancy, that she seemed to hear the closing
words of her song echoed from the deep woods where the merry little men had vanished? Or was it the Puk-Wudjies mocking her?