nd, as
far as they could see, it was all bestrewn with similar treasures.

The story seemed strange to their father, and he resolved to follow
the path they spoke of the next day, hoping in his own mind to
discover a track of the culprit who had decoyed away the birds and
torn his nets.

The next morning, as soon as the dawn glimmered through the still
forest, the Birdcatcher's whole family were on their way with the
wood-cart to the dale; and, truly enough, there they found
everything as the children had described.

"Look, look, father! there is another splendid little wooden
fellow!" exclaimed the youngest child, raking out of the mire a
little Nutcracker, bedaubed with mud, his colours all washed off,
and his pedestal lost.

"Heyday! what a face the fellow has, and what a mouth, and what
goggling eyes!" cried all the children in one voice.

"Silly nonsense! stupid toy!" exclaimed the old man angrily, as he
snatched the Nutcracker from them, and flung it far away into the
wood.

But now a wonderful sight presented itself to his view.

Out of a Crane's nest, high up on an old oak-tree, there rose a
little maiden of human form, quite enveloped in gossamer. She
climbed down from the tree like a squirrel, ran with all speed to
the spot where Nutcracker lay, dug him a grave with her hands, and,
with the aid of the two Cranes, laid him in it, and raked the earth
over the spot; after which she climbed again up the tree, and into
the nest.

The Birdcatcher and his family stood open-mouthed, in silent
astonishment; they feared to frighten away the little maiden, but
this strange sight made them hesitate what to do.

"So, so, then, you are the little witch who robs me of my bread!"
at last exclaimed the Birdcatcher, giving vent to his repressed
anger. "Wait there awhile, my pretty little bird: tomorrow morning
we will come again with axe and nets; we will then cut down your
tree in a trice and catch you. For the present let us see where
this path leads, and whether there are not more of you here."

Before he had finished speaking, he espied the little maiden
peeping anxiously from under her white veil out of the nest, and
making a sign. And instantly the Cranes came flying to her, took up
the nest with their bills, raised it from the branches, and bore it
swiftly through the air.

Who other could the little maiden be than our Princess of
Root-Valley?

Fear of her father and her countrypeople had prevented her