With that the Viking’s wife awoke, and still heard outside the same strong sound of wings. She knew that it was time for the storks to depart, and no doubt that was what she heard. Still, she wished to see them once before their journey, and to bid them farewell. She stood up, went out on to the balcony, and there she saw on the ridge of the out-house rows of storks, and round the courtyard and over the lofty trees crowds of others were flying in great circles. But straight in front of her, on the edge of the well, where little Helga had so often sat and frightened her with her wildness, two swans now sat and looked at her with intelligent eyes. Her dream came to her mind; it still quite filled her as if it had been reality. She thought of little Helga in the form of a swan, she thought of the Christian priest, and she felt a strange joy in her heart. The swans beat their wings, and bent their necks, as if they wished so to salute her; and the Viking’s wife stretched out her arms towards them as if she understood, and smiled at them through her tears. Then, with a noise of wings and chattering, all the storks arose to start on their journey to the south. ‘We cannot wait for the swans!’ said mother-stork. ‘If they wish to come with us they may; but we can’t wait here till the plovers start! It is a very good thing to travel in family parties; not like the chaffinches and ruffs, where the males fly by themselves and the females by themselves; that is certainly not proper! And what are those swans flapping their wings for?’ ‘Every one flies in his own way!’ said father-stork. ‘The swans go in slanting line, the cranes in a triangle, and the plovers in a wavy, snake-like line.’ ‘Don’t mention serpents when we are flying up here!’ said mother-stork; ‘it only excites the appetites of our young ones when they can’t be satisfied.’ * * * * * ‘Are those the high mountains down there which I have heard of?’ asked Helga in the swan’s skin. ‘Those are thunder-clouds which drive below us,’ said the mother. ‘What are those white clouds which lift themselves so high?’ asked Helga. ‘Those are the everlasting snow-clad hills which you see,’ said the mother; and they flew over the Alps, down towards the blue Mediterranean. * * * * * ‘Land of Africa! Coast of Egypt!’ jubilantly sang the daughter of the Nile in her swan form, when, high in the air, she descried her native land, like a yellowish white, undulating streak. And as the birds saw it, they hastened their flight. ‘I smell the mud of the Nile and the wet frogs!’ said mother-stork. ‘It quite excites me! Yes, now you shall taste them; now you shall see the adjutant bird, the ibis, [Illustration: THEN SHE SAW THE STORKS]