Time passed over her; she had no way of knowing if they were minutes or hours that ran by.
When she awoke, a gentle, steady humming filled the air; a murmurous, musical sound that calmed every sense. It was like the turning of a great wheel or the rocking of an old cradle.
"They are my bees, child," said the old woman. "They have come home."
She was slender, with brown eyes like brook water, and though she was wrinkled finely, she was straight and strong, for she lifted up her guest and half carried her to the opposite corner of the hut.
"Now wash," she said, "and then you must eat."
A cold, deep spring welled up in that corner, and as she plunged her face into it she opened her hot eyes to let the icy water cool them--and gazed at the white moon far below her and the small stars.
All space seemed spread before her and she drew out, frightened, but when she glanced quickly at the spring from above, she thought she must have dreamed, for it was like any other spring, only a little deeper. Then she washed her hands till they tingled and warmed. When she had braided her hair afresh she turned and saw that the old woman had set out a meal for her on the low stool; a brown loaf, a comb of golden honey and an earthen jug of milk.
She fell upon the food and it was like wine and meat to her. The blood ran swiftly through her veins again and she forgot the terror and fatigue and the cloud in her mind.
"You are most kind to me, mother," she said, for she had lived in the old countries where it is easy to speak kindly to the old; "how do you happen to live here? I should have died but for you. All my courage had gone and it seemed that some terrible thing must be true, but I dared not think what it might be. Now I am strong again and I will thank you and go on."
"Where will you go, my child?" said the old woman.
She looked out of the door and saw that the wood was so dense that only a dim light pierced through the boughs far above her head.
"It is always twilight here," said the old woman.
"But you can tell me the way, surely you know the way out?" she begged.
"I know my way," said the old woman, "but not your way. I come from the other side."
"And how do you come?" she asked, almost fearfully, for something about the old woman began to frighten her.