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Like a snowfall of white wings it sank down over them. And there was feasting and drinking on every flowercluster. The woods were full of silent rejoicing. Reor went on, but now the honey-sweet fragrance seemed to follow him wherever he went.
In front of him, on the narrow path, crawled a white snake. He bent down to pick up the luck-bringing animal, but the snake glided out of his hands and up the path. There it coiled itself and lay still; but when the huntsman again tried to catch it, glided slippery as ice between his fingers. Reor now grew eager to possess the wisest of beasts.
He ran after the snake, but was not able to reach it, and the latter lured him away from the path into the trackless forest. It was overgrown with pines, and in such places one seldom finds grassy ground. But now the dry moss and brown pine-needles suddenly disappeared, the stiff cranberry bushes vanished, and Reor felt under foot velvet like turf.
So likewise to 'think' is to inclose, to determine, confine and define. To think an infinite is a contradiction in terms equal to a boundless bound. So in German 'Ding, denken'; in Latin 'res, reor'. Chap. VII. p. 113. Helvidius alleged the mother of Christ was not a virgin; so that according to his wicked allegation, Christ was born in original sin.
The cliff seemed in all ways like every other cliff, but Reor noticed instantly that he had come upon the gable-wall of a giant's house, and he discovered under moss and lichen the great hinges on which the mountain's granite door swung.
He, who knew the language of nature better than that of man, listened to the great, solemn forest and the stern mountain. "See," they said, "to you, who love the wilderness, we give our fair daughter. She will suit you better than the daughters of the plain. Reor, are you worthy of this most precious of gifts?"
The happy huntsman felt that the whole forest had held its breath, wondering how the daughter of the wilderness would be treated by the son of man. The snake now glided down into the high grass; but the sleeper lay bound in a magic sleep and did not move. Then Reor wrapped her in the coarse bear-skin, so that only her head showed above the shaggy fur.
She lay without any other covering than a light, web-like veil, just as if she had thrown herself down there after having taken part the whole night in some elfin dance; but the long blades of grass and the trembling flower-clusters stood high over the sleeper, so that Reor could scarcely catch a glimpse of the soft lines of her body. Nor did he go nearer in order to see better.
Their petals were of the tiniest, but from among them pushed up a little brush of stamens, whose pollen-filled heads trembled on white filaments. Reor thought, as he went among them, that those flowers, which stood alone and unnoticed in the darkness of the forest, were sending out message after message, summons upon summons.
"Say to Unn, who made Berg Rese a murderer, that he was killed by Tord the fisherman, whose father is a wrecker and whose mother is a witch, because he taught him that the foundation of the world is justice." There was a man called Reor. He was from Fuglekarr in the parish of Svarteborg, and was considered the best shot in the county.
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