Then Hulda saw what Othmar had seen before. The pipes raised themselves from the ground, and untwisted, and became tall, lithe men; some gradually uncurled themselves, and put forth long arms and became beautiful girls, till each instrument had taken the likeness of a human being. Then they began to dance and to sing, and Hulda watched them as Othmar had watched them, and she too felt as if she had never seen and heard anything so beautiful in her life, and she longed to rush to them, but she heard the raven croak above her, and remembered the words of the fool, “The raven, the raven, do what the raven does.” Then she saw that the raven had hopped off the tree, and was standing upon the earth in front of her, and was beginning to dig in the earth with its long beak, as if it would find a worm. “The fool said, Do what the raven does, so must I dig too,” thought she, and she began to scoop the brown earth with her hand, till she had made a hole, watching the raven all the time. Presently she saw that the raven had found a long worm, and held it by its throat in the air, but it did not swallow it. Hulda looked into her hole to see if there was a worm there also, and at the bottom she saw lying a long, lithe, green snake, twisted up and apparently torpid. “Surely,” thought Hulda, “if I do what the raven does, I shall take this out,” and she put her hand into the hole, and grasped the snake by its throat, though she was very much afraid of it, and then she crouched down behind the raven and the bush. “Come,” cried the dwarf, when they had all sung together, “now let us hear the last new voice. Othmar’s voice was as sweet as silver. Now let me hear how my youngest daughter has treated it.” Then there came to the front the youngest and fairest of the girls, and began to sing, and when she heard it, Hulda could scarcely keep from screaming, for she recognized that the tones were Othmar’s; but just as the singing sounded the sweetest, the raven with a croak opened his mouth, and dropped the worm upon the ground, and Hulda let go her hold of the bright green snake, which darted through the short grass towards the dancers. There arose from all sides the cry of “A snake, a snake!” and they seemed panic-stricken. The snake glided straight towards the singing girl, and deftly coiled itself round her ankles, while from the old man and all the others came a terrible uproar, but the snake from the girl’s ankles had slid up her body in bright green coils, and then twisted itself around her throat, and coiled tighter and tighter and tighter, till her head fell over on one side. Then Hulda heard a noise like the sighing of wind, but sweet and tender, while the dwarf and all the singers were in a hubbub and confusion.