For a moment the old man stood motionless, then he rose and gave a terrible cry. Hulda trembled when she heard his voice, it sounded like nothing earthly, but ere he was silent there had risen from the ground and from the bushes near a number of little cloudy forms, black and thick, and twirling in all directions, and they twisted in and out among the singers; and as they twisted among them, they ceased to be men and women, but became musical instruments, as they had been before, all save the girl around whose neck the snake had wound, and who seemed to shrivel and shrivel in its coils till she was no more to be seen. In less than a minute they were all packed again upon the mule, and the little old man was leading it quietly away, as if nothing had happened. And upon the grass lay the glittering snake, though all trace of the girl around whose neck it had twisted had gone. Hulda ran to it, and then she almost cried, for she feared that after all the girl with Othmar’s voice had escaped her. But she remembered the words of Tommy the fool, “Do as the raven does; follow the raven,” and looking up she saw that the raven was fluttering above her, with the worm it had picked up from the ground in its mouth. “Oh, dear raven,” cried Hulda, “you brought me to where the little man was, now lead me back and show me what to do next.” And mindful of the fool’s advice, she picked up the snake, and holding it firmly by the throat, turned to follow the raven, who flew ahead of her. Thus they journeyed back, over the same country through which Hulda had come before. All looked just the same, but Hulda was sorely tired, for she had now been walking many days, and she felt sad, for she did not know if after all she had gained anything, or whether she ought not to have followed the little old man, and though she had heard Othmar’s voice, she did not know how she was to get it back to him. “Never mind,” she said to herself, “the fool told me right so far, and evidently he knew all about it, so I had best keep to his advice.”