pushing through the circle, went to the fire, and PReury
began to warm herself.
“What seek you here?’ asked the Ice Month, with USCHKA
a frown wrinkling his white brow.
‘That is no business of yours,’ answered Helena,
sharply, over her shoulder.
The Ice Month shook his head, and, raising his
arm, waved the staff over the fire.
Instantly the flames sank, and the fire was reduced
toaglowing spark. The clouds rolled over the sky,
and, bursting, discharged snow in such quantities
that nothing was visible in earth and heaven but
drifting white particles. An icy wind rumbled in
the forest and roared round the hill. Helena fled.
Everywhere white fleeting spots—whirling, falling,
rising, scudding! She ran this way, then that;
she stumbled over a fallen log, she gathered her-
self up and ran again; then she plunged into a deep
drift; and the white ‘cold down from the breast of
heaven whirled and fell, and rose, and fleeted, and
danced this side of her, and dropped here on her,
and rested there on her, and lodged on this limb,
and built up a white heap on that limb, then
bridged over one fold and filled up another. She
shook herself, and the particles fell off. But then
they began theirwork again: they spangled her with
white, they wove a white net, they filled up the in-
terstices of her lace, they built a mound over her
arm, they buried her foot, they raised a cairn above
her bosom. Then they spun a dance around the
white face which looked up at them, and began
to whiten it still more; lastly, they smoothed the
sheet over her, and the ‘work was done.
The mother looked out of the window and
wondered that Helena did not return. Hour after
hour passed, and her daughter came not.
‘Maybe the apples are so sweet that she cannot
eat enough,’ thought the mother. ‘I will go seek
them too.’

77