“I am come to look for red apples,” replied Marouckla.

“But this is winter, and not the season for red apples,” observed the great Setchene.

“I know,” answered the girl, “but my sister and stepmother, sent me to fetch red apples from the mountain; if I return without them they will kill me.”

Thereupon the great Setchene arose and went over to one of the elderly months, to whom he handed the wand, saying: 

“Brother Zare (September), do thou take the highest place.”

Zare moved to the highest stone and waved his wand over the fire.  There was a flare of red flames, the snow disappeared, but the fading leaves which trembled on the trees were sent by a cold northeast wind in yellow masses to the glade.  Only a few flowers of autumn were visible, such as the fleabane and red gillyflower, autumn colchicums in the ravine, and under the beeches bracken and tufts of northern heather.  At first Marouckla looked in vain for red apples.  Then she espied a tree which grew at a great height, and from the branches of this hung the bright red fruit.  Zare ordered her to gather some quickly.  The girl was delighted and shook the tree.  First one apple fell, then another.

“That is enough,” said Zare, “hurry home.”

Thanking the months, she returned joyfully.  Helen marveled and the stepmother wondered at seeing the fruit.

“Where did you gather them?” asked the stepsister.

“There are more on the mountain top,” answered Marouckla.

“Then why did you not bring more?” said Helen angrily; “you must have eaten them on your way back, you wicked girl.”

“No, dear sister, I have not even tasted them,” said Marouckla.  “I shook the tree twice; one apple fell each time.  I was not allowed to shake it again, but was told to return home.”

“May God smite you with his thunderbolt,” said Helen, striking her.

Marouckla prayed to die rather than suffer such ill-treatment.  Weeping bitterly, she took refuge in the kitchen.  Helen and her mother found the apples more delicious than any they had ever tasted, and when they had eaten both longed for more.

“Listen, mother,” said Helen.  “Give me my cloak; I will fetch some more apples myself, or else that good-for-nothing wretch will eat them all on the way.  I shall be able to find the mountain and the tree.  The shepherds may cry ‘Stop,’ but I shall not leave go till I have shaken down all the apples.”

In spite of her mother’s advice she put on her cloak, covered her head with a warm hood, and took the road to the mountain.  The mother stood and watched her till she was lost in the distance.

Snow covered everything, not a human footprint was to be seen on its surface.  Helen lost herself and wandered hither and thither.  After a while she saw a light above her, and following in its direction reached the mountain top.  There was the flaming fire, the twelve blocks of stone, and the twelve months.  At first she was frightened and hesitated; then she came nearer and warmed her hands.  She did not ask permission, nor did she speak one polite word.