She sought everywhere for it, but no trace of it was to be seen. Then she drove all the others back to the farm and watched them, falling half asleep, for she was weary with the dancing. But when evening came, and she had slept some time, she said to herself, “Surely the best plan would be to go back to the old palace, and see if I can see the shepherd and the black goats again.” So just about sunset she returned to the palace, and again the door opened, and the beautiful shepherd boy came out with the black goats following. But when he began to play on his pipe, and the goats to dance, Nanina forgot all about the lost lamb and danced with him as before. Again they danced till morning, and then he left her suddenly, and she found that another lamb had disappeared. Then she wept and lamented, and declared that the next night she would only watch the shepherd and nothing would make her dance; and again the next night the same thing happened; when once she heard the pipe, Nanina could not keep still, and another lamb was lost. This went on to the end of a fortnight, when there was only one of the flock left. Then she was terribly frightened, for her master would soon return, and she did not know what she should say to him. But still she went back and sat by the old palace, and when the shepherd came out, and she heard the music, she could not refrain from dancing, and in the morning the last lamb had gone!
All the day Nanina wandered about and cried, but no sheep were to be found. At last, when she was quite weary, she sat down beneath a beech tree near the palace, and leaned her head against its trunk sobbing. Then she saw that someone had torn down the lowest branches of the tree and they were hanging down broken. She raised them and tied them up, so that they would grow together, and as she did so she heard a shadowy voice whisper, “Thank you, Nanina; Nanina, don’t dance.” She looked about but there was nobody there, and again she heard a whisper, “Nanina, don’t dance.” The voice came from the beech tree, and among the leaves she saw a small twisted face looking at her. “Thank you, Nanina, for saving my bough,” said the tree, “and if you mind me, you shall get all your sheep back again.”
“My sheep,” cried Nanina. “Only tell me, and I will do anything.”
“Then you must not dance. Every time you refuse to dance with the fairy, one of your flock will be returned.”
“But how can I refuse to dance?” cried Nanina, “for as I hear the pipe beginning, my feet begin to move of themselves, it is no use my trying,” and she cried aloud.
“Bury your feet in the earth like my roots,” whispered back the voice. “Dig a hole deep down, and I will hold your feet so that you shall not move them, only you must bear the pain, and not mind if you walk lame afterwards, for I shall hold them very tight, and it will hurt you.”
“Hurt me as you please,” cried Nanina, “and I shan’t mind. If only I can get back my sheep I will bear any pain.” So she knelt beneath the tree, and dug a deep hole in the ground among its roots, and then she placed her feet among the loose earth, and she felt something moving near them which tightened around and drew them far down into the ground, and held them as if they were bound with cords. She saw the lights in the windows of the palace, and the door opened. “Hold me, hold me fast,” she cried, “for when I hear the music I shall begin to dance.” The tree said nothing, but she felt its roots tightening so that she could not move. The door of the palace opened as before, and the beautiful shepherd, followed by his goats and her sheep, came out, and she heard once more the sound of the wonderful pipe, and he danced straight up to the tree beneath which she stood, and held out his hand to her. Nanina felt as if her feet were beginning to move under the earth, but the roots of the tree held them so firmly that she could not stir one inch. Still the shepherd danced before her, and as she saw him springing in front, with the flocks behind him following him, she grew quite wild to dance, and tried her hardest to break her feet free from the roots which held them, but in vain, though she almost screamed with the pain they cost her. For hours the shepherd danced in front of her, till, as before, the pipe sounded forth one long note, and he disappeared, but this time not all the flock went with him, for beside her was left one of her own little lambs, and when she saw it she cried for joy. She felt the roots releasing their hold of her feet, and she drew them out of the earth, and they were all blue and bruised where they had been held. She drove home the lamb and fastened it into the sheep-pen, but her feet were so stiff and swelled that she limped as she walked. Next night she went back to the beech tree, and again slipped her feet into its roots, and felt them twist around them; but this time the poor feet were so sore that she
