The Water of the Wondrous Isles. William Morris
she had might for.
When she awoke it lacked but an hour of noon-tide, and she felt the life in her and was happy, but had no will to rise up for a while; for it was ajoy to her to turn her head this way and that to the dear and dainty flowers, that made the wide, grey, empty lake seem so far away, and no more to be dealt with than the very sky itself.
At last she arose, and when she had plucked and eaten some handfuls of the strawberries which grew plenteously on the sweet ground of the eyot, she went down to the landward-looking shore, and took the water, and swam slowly across the warm ripple till she came once more to the strand and her raiment. She clad herself, and set her hand to her pouch and drew forth bread, and sat eating it on the bank above the smooth sand. Then she looked around, and stood up with her face toward the house, to see if the dame would call to her. But she saw the witch come out of the porch and stand there looking under the sharp of her hand toward her, and thereafter she went back again into the house without giving any sign. Wherefore Birdalone deemed that she had leave that day, and that she might take yet more holiday; so she stepped lightly down from her place of vantage, turned her face toward the east, and went quietly along the very lip of the water.
CHAPTER X. BIRDALONE COMES ON NEW TIDINGS.
Soon she had covered up the house from her, for on that eastern end, both a tongue of the woodland shoved out west into the meadow, and, withal, the whole body of the wood there drew down to the water, and presently cut off all the greensward save a narrow strip along by the lake, off the narrowest whereof lay the rocky eyot aforesaid, nigher unto the shore than lay Green Eyot.
Now never had Birdalone gone so far east as to be over against Rock Eyot. In her childish days the witch had let her know that she might go where she would, but therewith had told her a tale of a huge serpent which dwelt in the dark wood over against Rock Eyot, whose wont it was to lap his folds round and round living things that went there, and devour them; and many an evil dream had that evil serpent brought to Birdalone. In after days belike she scarce trowed in the tale, yet the terror of it abode with her. Moreover the wildwood toward that side, as it drew toward the water, was dark and dreary and forbidding, running into black thickets standing amidst quagmires, all unlike to the sweet, clean upland ridges, oak begrown and greenswarded, of the parts which lay toward the north, and which she mostly haunted.
But this summer day, which was so bright and hot, Birdalone deemed she might harden her heart to try the adventure; and she had a mind to enter the wood thereby, and win her way up into the oakland whereas she had met Habundia, and perchance she might happen on her; for she would not dare to summon her so soon after their first meeting. And if she met her, there would be the holiday worthily brought to an end!
On went Birdalone, and was soon at the narrowest of the greensward, and had the wood black on her left hand, for the trees of it were mostly alder. But when she was come just over against Rock Eyot, she found a straight creek or inlet of the water across her way; and the said creek ran right up into the alder thicket; and, indeed, was much overhung by huge ancient alders, gnarled, riven, mossy, and falling low over the water. But close on the mouth of the creek, on Birdalone’s side thereof, lay a thing floating on the dull water, which she knew not how to call a boat, for such had she never seen, nor heard of, but which was indeed a boat, oarless and sailless.
She looked on it all about, and wondered; yet she saw at once that it was for wending the water, and she thought, might she but have a long pole, she might push it about the shallow parts of the lake, and belike take much fish. She tried to shove it somewhat toward the lake, but with her little might could make nothing of the work; for the craft was heavy, like a barge, if there were nothing else that withstood her.
About this new thing she hung a long while, wondering that she had never heard thereof, or been set to toil therewith. She noted that it was mostly pale grey of hue, as if it had been bleached by sun and water, but at the stem and stern were smears of darker colour, as though someone had been trying the tints of staining there.
Now so much did this new matter take up all her mind, that she thought no more of going up into the wood; but though she had fain abided there long to see whatever might be seen, she deemed it would go ill with her did the witch happen on her there; wherefore she turned about, and went back the way she had come, going very slowly and pondering the tidings. And ever she called to mind what Habundia had said to her, that it was by water she must flee, and wondered if she had sent her this thing that she might escape therein; so different as her going would be thereby to swimming the lake with her wet body. Then again she thought, that before she might let herself hope this, it were best, if she might, to find out from the witch what was the thing, and if she knew thereof. Yet at last she called to mind how little patient of questions was her mistress, and that if she were unheedful she might come to raise an evil storm about her. Wherefore she took this rede at the last, that she would keep all hidden in her own breast till she should see Habundia again; and meanwhile she might steal down thither from time to time to see if the thing still abode there; which she might the easier do by swimming if she chose her time heedfully, and go thither from Rock Eyot, which now and again she visited.
CHAPTER XI. OF BIRDALONE’S GUILT AND THE CHASTISEMENT THEREOF.
By this she was come back to the sandy bight, and the sun was westering; and she looked up toward the house and saw that it was the time of their evening meal, for the blue smoke of the cooking fire was going up into the air. So she went thither speedily, and entered gay of seeming. The witch looked on her doubtfully, but presently fell to speaking with her graciously as yesterday, and Birdalone was glad and easy of mind, and went about the serving of her; for always she ate after the dame; and the mistress asked her of many matters concerning the house, and the gathering of stuff.
So came the talk on the fishing of the brook that ran before their door, and how the trouts therein were but little, and not seldom none at all; and even therewith came these words into Birdalone’s mouth, she scarce knew how: My lady, why do we not fish the lake, whereas there be shoal places betwixt us and the eyots where lie many and great fish, as I have seen when I have been swimming thereover? And now in that same creek whereas the serpent used to lurk when I was little, we have a thing come, which is made to swim on the water; and I, could I have a long pole to shove withal.
But no time she had to make an end, ere the witch-wife sprang up and turned on her with a snarl as of an evil dog, and her face changed horribly: her teeth showed grinning, her eyes goggled in her head, her brow was all to-furrowed, and her hands clenched like iron springs.
Birdalone shuddered back from her and cringed in mere terror, but had no might to cry out. The witch hauled her up by the hair, and dragged her head back so that her throat lay bare before her all along. Then drew the witch a sharp knife from her girdle, and raised her hand over her, growling and snarling like a wolf. But suddenly she dropped the knife, her hand fell to her side, and she fell in a heap on the floor and lay there hushed.
Birdalone stood gazing on her, and trembling in every limb; too confused was she to think or do aught, though some image off light through the open door passed before her: but her feet seemed of lead, and, as in an evil dream, she had no might to move her limbs, and the minutes went by as she stood there half dead with fear.
At last, (and belike it was no long while) the witch-wife came to herself again, and sat up on the floor, and looked all about the chamber, and when her eyes fell upon Birdalone, she said in a weak voice, yet joyfully; Hah! thou art there still, my good servant! Then she said: A sickness fell upon me suddenly, as whiles it is wont; but now am I myself again; and presently I have a word for thee.
Therewith she rose up slowly, Birdalone helping her, and sat in her big chair silent awhile, and then she spake: My servant, thou hast for the more part served me well: but this time thou hast done ill, whereas thou hast been spying on my