she hurried across to the other side of the pond, and called him anew; she reviled the nix with harsh words, but no answer followed. the surface of the water remained calm, only the crescent moon stared steadily back at her. the poor woman did not leave the pond. with hasty steps, she paced round and round it, without resting a moment, sometimes in silence, sometimes uttering a loud cry, sometimes softly sobbing. at last her strength came to an end, she sank down to the ground and fell into a heavy sleep. presently a dream took possession of her. she was anxiously climbing upwards between great masses of rock; thorns and briars caught her feet, the rain beat in her face, and the wind tossed her long hair about. when she had reached the summit, quite a different sight presented itself to her; the sky was blue, the air soft, the ground sloped gently downwards, and on a green meadow, gay with flowers of every colour, stood a pretty cottage. she went up to it and opened the door; there sat an old woman with white hair, who beckoned to her kindly. at that very moment, the poor woman awoke, day had already dawned, and she at once resolved to act in accordance with her dream. she laboriously climbed the mountain; everything was exactly as she had seen it in the night. the old woman received her kindly, and pointed out a chair on which she might sit. "thou must have met with a misfortune," she said, "since thou hast sought out my lonely cottage."