the hour of our sundering, and that to-morrow thou wilt try the
adventure of the Sending Boat: is it not so? Yea, mother, said
Birdalone; I bid thee farewell now: woe is me therefor! Said
Habundia: And thou wilt deliver thyself into the hands of the witch,
wilt thou, as thou saidst that other day? Quoth Birdalone: Is it
not wisdom, dear mother, if I trust in my goodhap? Alas, said the
mother, it may be so when all is said. But O my sad heart! and how I
fear for thee!

My mother, my mother! said Birdalone, that I should make the days
grievous unto thee! and thou who hast made my days so joyous! But
now canst thou not say of thy wisdom that we shall meet again?

The wood-woman sat down, and let her head fall over her knees, and
was silent a long while; then she rose up and stood before Birdalone,
and said: Yea, we shall meet again, howsoever it may be. Let us
depart with that sweet word in the air between us. Yet first thou
shalt give me a tress of thine hair, as I did to thee when first we
met; for by means of it may I know to-morrow how thou hast sped.

Even so did Birdalone, and this was the end of their talk, save
broken words of lamentation as they said farewell. And therewith for
that while they sundered.



CHAPTER XX. OF BIRDALONE AND THE SENDING BOAT