But how did little Gerda get on when Kay never returned? Where could he be? No one knew. The boys said they had seen him fasten his sled to a large sleigh that had driven into the street and then swept through the gates of the town. But no one knew where they had gone, and many tears were shed over him. Gerda wept and wept, for the boys said he must have been drowned in the river. Oh, how long and dismal the winter days were!
At last the spring came, with its warm sunshine.
'Alas, Kay is dead and gone," said Gerda.
"I do not believe it," said the sunshine.
'He is dead and gone, she said to the swallows.
"We do not believe it," they replied, and after a time Gerda herself did not believe it.
"I will put on my new red shoes, she said one morning, "the ones that Kay has never seen, and then I will go down to the river and ask after him."
It was quite early. She kissed her old grandmother, who was still sleeping, put on her red shoes, and went alone through the gates of the town toward the river.
"Is it true," she said, "that you have taken my friend away? I will give you my red shoes if you will give him back to me!"
And the waves of the river flowed toward her in a strange way, so she thought that they were going to accept her offer. She took off her red shoes -though she prized them more than anything else she possessed-and threw them into the stream. But the waves bore them back to her, as though they would not take them from her because they had not got Kay.
Gerda thought she had not thrown the shoes far enough, so she stepped into a little boat that lay among the reeds by the shore and, standing at the farthest end of it, threw them far into the water. The boat was not fastened, and the movement inside it made it glide away from the shore. Seeing this she hurried back to the other end, but by the time she reached it, it was more than a yard from the land. She could not escape, and the boat moved on.
Gerda was very frightened and began to cry, but no one besides the sparrows heard her. They could not carry her back to the land, but they flew along the banks and sang, as if to comfort her, "Here we are, here we are. " as the boat followed the stream.
"Perhaps the river will take me to Kay," she thought. At last she glided past a large cherry orchard, in which there was a cottage with a thatched roof and curious red-and blue windows. Two wooden soldiers stood at the door, and they stood to attention when they saw the little vessel approach.
Gerda called to them, thinking they were alive, but they made no answer. She came close up to them, for the stream carried the boat toward the land.
She called still louder, and an old lady came out of the house, supporting herself on a crutch. She wore a large hat with the most beautiful flowers painted on it.
"Poor little child!" said the old woman. "T'he mighty river has indeed brought you a long way." And she walked right into the water, seized the boat with her crutch, drew it to land, and took Gerda out. Gerda was glad to be on dry land again, although she was a little afraid of the strange old lady.
"Come and tell me who you are and how you came here, "said the old lady.
So Gerda told her everything and the old lady shook her head and said, "Hum! hum!" And when Gerda asked if she had seen Kay, the lady said that he had not arrived yet but t hat he would be sure to come soon and in the meantime Gerda must not be too sad. She could stay with her and eat her cherries and look at her flowers, which were prettier than any picture book, and each flower would tell her a story.
Then the old lady took Gerda by the hand and they went together into the cottage, and the old lady shut the door. A plate of very fine cherries was placed on a table in the middle and Gerda was allowed to eat as many as she liked. While she was eating them, the old lady combed Gerda's hair with a golden comb.
"I have long wished for a dear little girl like you," said the old lady. "We will see if we can live very happily together." And, as she combed Gerda's hair, Gerda thought less and less of Kay, for the old lady was an enchantress. She did not, however, practice magic for the sake of mischief but merely for her own amusement.
Now
she wanted to keep Gerda to live with her very much and feared that if Gerda
saw her roses she would be reminded of her own flowers and of Kay. So the
old lady went out into the garden and waved her crutch over all her rosebushes,
which, although they were covered with leaves and blossoms, immediately sank
into the black earth.
Then she led Gerda into the garden. Flowers of all seasons and all climates grew there in profusion. Gerda danced with delight and played among the flowers till the sun set behind the cherry trees. Then a small bed, with crimson silk cushions and a mats stuffed with blue violet-leaves, was made ready, and she slept soundly there and had sweet dreams.
The next day she played again among the flowers in the warm sunshine, and she spent many more days in the same way. She knew every flower in the garden, but, numerous as they were, it seemed to her that one was missing, though she could not remember which. Then one day she was sitting looking at the old lady's hat, which was the one with the flowers painted on it, and, behold, the loveliest flower among them was a rose. The old lady had entirely forgotten that it was there.
"Why, cried Gerda, "there are no roses in the garden! She ran from
one bed to another looking everywhere, but she didn't find a rose anywhere.
She sat down and wept, and it so happened that her tears fell on a spot where
a rose tree had stood before. As soon as her warm tears had wet the earth,
the bush sprang up again, as fresh as it was before it had sunk into the
ground. Gerda threw her arms round it, kissed the flowers, and immediately
remembered Kay. "Oh, how could I stay here so long! " she exclaimed. "I left
home to look for Kay. Do you know where he is?" she asked the roses. "Is
he
dead?"
'He is not dead, said the roses. "We have been down in the earth. The dead are there, but not Kay."
"Thank you," said Gerda, and she went to the other flowers and asked, "Do you know where Kay is?"
But every flower stood in the sunshine dreaming its own dream. They told their stories to Gerda, but none of them knew anything about Kay.
So away she ran to the end of the garden.
The gate was closed, but she pressed down upon the rusty lock until it broke. The gate sprang open, and Gerda ran barefoot out into the world. She looked back three times; there was no one following her. She ran till she could run no longer and then sat down to rest upon a large stone. Looking round everywhere she saw that summer was over and it was now late in the autumn. She had not noticed this in the enchanted garden where it was sunny and there were flowers all the year round.
"How long I must have stayed there!" said Gerda. "So it's autumn now. Well, then, there is no time to lose," and she rose to go on her way.
Oh,
how sore and weary her feet were! And everything round about looked so cold
and barren. The long willow leaves had already turned yellow and the dew
trickled down from them like water. The sloe alone bore fruit, and its berries
were sharp and bitter. That day, the world seemed cold and gray and
sad.
