During the first few days of their voyage down the Danube they were extremely happy.  Everything grew more and more beautiful, as they sailed further and further down the proudly flowing stream.  But in a region, otherwise so pleasant, and in the enjoyment of which they had promised themselves the purest delight, the ungovernable Kuehleborn began, undisguisedly, to exhibit his power, which started again at this point.  This was indeed manifested in mere teasing tricks, for Undine often rebuked the agitated waves or the contrary winds, and then the violence of the enemy would be immediately submissive; but again the attacks would be renewed, and again Undine’s reproofs would become necessary, so that the pleasure of the little party was completely destroyed.  The boatmen too were continually whispering to one another in dismay and looking with distrust at the three strangers whose servants even began more and more to forebode something uncanny and to watch their masters with suspicious glances.  Huldbrand often said to himself, “This comes from like not being linked with like, from a man uniting himself with a mermaid!” Excusing himself, as we all love to do, he would often think indeed as he said this, “I did not really know that she was a sea-maiden.  Mine is the misfortune that every step I take is disturbed and haunted by the wild caprices of her race; but mine is not the guilt.”  By such thoughts as these he felt himself in some measure strengthened, but, on the other hand, he felt increasing ill-humor and almost animosity toward Undine.  He would look at her with an expression of anger, the meaning of which the poor wife understood well.  Wearied with this exhibition of displeasure and exhausted by the constant effort to frustrate Kuehleborn’s artifices, she sank one evening into a deep slumber, rocked soothingly by the softly gliding bark.

Scarcely, however, had she closed her eyes when every one in the vessel imagined he saw, in whatever direction he turned, a most horrible human head; it rose out of the waves, not like that of a person swimming, but perfectly perpendicular as if invisibly supported upright on the watery surface and floating along in the same course with the bark.  Each wanted to point out to the other the cause of his alarm, but each found the same expression of horror depicted on the face of his neighbor, only that his hands and eyes were directed to a different point where the monster, half laughing and half threatening, rose before him.  When, however, they all wished to make one another understand what each saw, and all were crying out, “Look there—!  No—­there!” the horrible heads all appeared simultaneously to their view, and the whole river around the vessel swarmed with the most hideous apparitions.  The universal cry raised at the sight awoke Undine.  As she opened her eyes the wild crowd of distorted visages disappeared.  But Huldbrand was indignant at such unsightly jugglery.  He would have burst forth in uncontrolled imprecations had not Undine said to him with a humble manner and a softly imploring tone, “For God’s sake, my husband, we are on the water; do not be angry with me now.”  The knight was silent, and sat down absorbed in reverie.  Undine whispered in his ear, “Would it not be better, my love, if we gave up this foolish journey and returned to Castle Ringstetten in peace?”