e old man, creeping out of the hut, followed her
with his eyes. She soon reached the edge of the clearing. How nimbly her
young feet moved! Under the gigantic trees she moved like a little
beetle. Now she turned and laughed at him, and his eyes, misty with
tears, could see nothing more.

XI

The forest was brilliant in white apparel. Under the wintry veil its
creative forces slumbered. Not a tree-top swayed, nor a branch stirred.
The sky was covered with grey clouds and the earth with snow, which in
the stillness gave out a light crackling sound under Anjuta's feet. She
tried once or twice to sing, but the grim silence of the primeval pines
sobered her with a sense of weird mystery. She tried to tread as lightly
as possible in order not to awake the gloomy trees on the right and left
out of their slumbers.

What might not be hidden under these snow-laden branches which almost
touched the ground? How terrible it would be if "it" suddenly crept out
without a sound. The fact that she could not define to herself what the
"it" was, made it all the more formidable.

And now she heard a low moaning at the bottom of the ravine. Perhaps it
was the brook, but if...? She did not think the thought out, but
hastened forward, stumbling and gliding. She looked attentively for the
axe-notches in the tree-trunks in order not to lose her way. She also
saw the sign of the cross on the birch half obliterated with snow.

The child sat on a snow-heap, and looked at the cross for the first time
attentively. Round about were visible what looked like footprints in the
snow. Were they caused by the wind, or----? An icy shudder ran through
her; fortunately it occurred to her that "they" had no power by day,
and only went about in the darkness. Yes, of course it was "they."

How often had her mother, whom her Grandfather had buried in the forest,
told her that the souls of unbaptized children roamed about by night.
When such a child dies, the Lord does not take it to Himself. "You do
not belong to Me," He says. Woe betide the unlucky person who meets one
of "them." It weeps and sobs pitiably, but if one takes it up, it seizes
one's throat with its teeth.

Anjuta sprang up and went quickly on. Again the enchanted silence
surrounded her, again the lofty motionless trees looked at her as though
they were astonished at the little intruder who disturbed their icy
winter sleep. Anjuta became hungry and gnawed at a dry crust of bread as
she wen