And then, a really terrible sight--the fool raising his sceptre, made them a speech, calling them each by his name. The wolves answered him with dismal howls. Now this is what he said to them:--"Hé, Child, Bléd, Merweg, and thou, Sirimar, my ancient, we are met together, then, once again! You have returned fat. There has been good cheer in Germany, eh?" Then, pointing to the snow-covered gorge:--"You remember the great battle?" First one of the wolves began to howl slowly in a dismal voice, then another, then all the five together. This lasted a good ten minutes. The raven, perched on the withered branch, did not stir. Robin would gladly have fled. He put up his prayers, invoked all the saints, and, in particular, his own patron, for whom all the shepherds of the mountain have the highest veneration. But the wolves still continued howling, awakening all the echoes of the Blutfeld. At last one, the oldest of the number, was silent, then another, then all, and Yégof continued:--"Yes, yes: that is a dismal story. Look! there is the river down which our blood flowed in streams! No matter, Merweg, no matter; the others have left their bones to whiten on the common, and the cold moon has seen their women tearing their hair for three days and three nights! Oh, that frightful day! Oh, the dogs! were they proud of their great victory? Let them be accursed--accursed." The fool had cast his crown to the ground. He now picked it up, groaning as he did so. The wolves, still crouching round, listened to him like attentive spectators. The biggest among them began to howl, and Yégof answered his complaint. "You are hungry, Sirimar; take comfort, take comfort; you will not want for food much longer; the men of our side are coming, and the strife will begin afresh." Then rising, and striking his sceptre on a stone, "See," said he, "behold thy bones!" He approached another. "And thine, Merweg, behold them!" said he. All the troop followed him, while he, raising himself upon a low rock, and glancing round upon the silent gorge, exclaimed:--"Our war-song is silent! our war-song is now a groan! The hour is near; it will reawaken, and you will be among the warriors; you will possess once more these valleys and these mountains. Oh! that sound of wheels, those cries of women, those blows from crushing rocks and stones; I hear them; the air is full of them. Yes, yes; they fell on us from above, and we were surrounded. And now all is dead; hear! all is dead; your bones sleep, but your children are on their way, and your turn will come. Sing! sing!" And this time he himself began to howl, while the wolves took up again their savage song.