Now the witch, holding the lantern aloft, steps over the gunwale of the boat, and sits down on the thwart; and it was a near thing but that Birdalone followed her into the boat, but she feared the getting forth again, so she but hung over it as close as she might. Then she saw the witch draw out of her girdle that sharp little knife which Birdalone had seen raised against her own throat; and then the witch bared her arm, and pricked it till the blood sprang from that barren white skin; thereat she stood up, and went to the bows of the craft and hung over them, and drew her arm to and fro over the stem to bloody it; and went thereafter to the stern, and took blood into her right hand and passed it over the place of the steerage (for there was no rudder) and came back and sat down on the thwart again; and, so far as Birdalone might see, busied herself in staunching the little wound on her arm. Then deemed Birdalone that she knew what manner of paint was that which had made the rusty smears which she had seen on the boat by daylight. But now as the witch sat there, a harsh voice began to stir in her throat, and then words came out of her, and she sang in a crow’s croak: The red raven-wine now Hast thou drunk, stern and bow; Then wake and awake And the wonted way take! The way of the Wender forth over the flood, For the will of the Sender is blent with the blood. Therewithal began the boat to stir, and anon it glided forth out of the creek into the waters of the lake, and the light of the lantern died, and it was but a minute ere Birdalone lost all sight of it. She abode a little longer, lest perchance boat and witch might come back on her hands, and then turned and went swiftly back again. She would have drawn off her ring straightway, but the thought came on her, that she had seen the witch depart in her second semblance; how if she were abiding her at home in her wonted skin? So she came to the house even as she was, and opened the door, and looked in, quaking; but there was no image of a child of Adam therein, and no living thing, save the cat drowsing before the fire; wherefore Birdalone took the ring from her finger and went to the hearth, and stirred up the cat with her foot till he arose and fell to rubbing himself against her legs, and she was fain of him. Thereafter she made her ring fast to her smock again, and set the smock under her pillow as her wont was, and betook herself to bed, and fell asleep sweetly, leaving all troublous thoughts for the morrow; and that the more as she was free of the witch-wife for that night at least. CHAPTER XVI. BIRDALONE MEETETH HABUNDIA AGAIN; AND LEARNETH HER FIRST WISDOM OF HER.