Page 93 - СКАЗКИ СНЕЖНОГО ЭЛЬФА

so many branches and cones; could you give me one for my sick
mother?’
To her surprise, after those words the branch stopped re-
sisting, broke off and fluttered down on the snow. Snowyflake
looked down to see how beautiful, how thick it was, and its
cones so bright and pink, the very branch her mum liked to
decorate the living room with.
Snowyflake dropped the axe down and was about to climb
down herself when a sudden gust of wind blew a patch of snow
off the branches and powdered her eyes. The leg, that seemed
to be supported, suddenly slipped, and the girl tumbled down-
wards. Snowyflake gathered herself to weaken the force of her
fall, but she landed lightly, like she fell down on a feather bed.
Her eyes dimmed, the sounds of the forest rolled to her as if
across the miles; she could hear a raven croaking and a restless
squirrel chattering. The fog around was collecting, massing and
moving like a living creature.
‘Fear not, girl, I’m not going to hurt you, come with me, I’ll
make you happy,’ came from the fog.
Snowyflake wanted to jump and run away but her limbs
wouldn’t obey. And the voice insisted, lulling her to sleep. ‘Sleep…
sleep well. I’ll take you to my palace, I’ll show you the wonder-
land, I’ll give you authority and power. You’ll be my daughter.’
‘I have my mummy and I love her greatly,’ Snowyflake re-
plied feebly.
‘Your mum is weak, let her die. You’ll forget her.’
Snowyflake began crying and there a woman came. She ap-
peared in grey fog, her face radiant like snow in the moonlight,
her grey locks touching the ground. The woman’s face, smiling
with pale lips, approached the girl.
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