“When he took them away, the forest was strangely desolate to these two, who now stood alone.  When the Daughters of Dawn opened wide the gates of darkness, and the Lord of Light fared forth upon the sea, they saw it not.  When it was high noon, and there were no shadows, even upon the hill, it seemed that they might lift up their heads, but they only twined their branches more closely together.  When all the flaming tapestry of heaven was spread in the West, they leaned nearer to each other, and sighed.

[Sidenote:  Bereft]

“When the night wind stirred their boughs to faint music, it was like the moan of a heart that refuses to be comforted.  When Spring danced through the forest, leaving flowers upon her way, while all the silences were filled with life and joy, these two knew it not, for they were bereft.

“Mating calls echoed through the woods, and silver sounds dripped like rain from the maples, but there was no love-song in the boughs of the pines.  The birds went by, on hushed wings, and built their nests far away.

“When the maples put on the splendid robes of Autumn, the pines, more gaunt and desolate than ever, covered the ground with a dense fabric of needles, lacking in fragrance.  When the winds grew cool, and the Little People of the Forest pattered swiftly through the dead and scurrying leaves, there was no sound from the pines.  They only waited for the end.

“When storm swept through the forest and the other trees bowed their heads in fear, these two straightened themselves to meet it, for they were not afraid.  Frightened birds took refuge there, and the Little People, with wild-beating hearts, crept under the spreading boughs to be sheltered.

“Vast, reverberating thunders sounded from hill to hill, and the sea answered with crashing surges that leaped high upon the shore.  Suddenly, from the utter darkness, a javelin of lightning flashed through the pines, but they only trembled and leaned closer still.

“One by one, with the softness of falling snow, the leaves dropped upon the brown carpet beneath, but there was no more fragrance, since the sap had ceased to move through the secret channels and breathe balm into the forest.  Snow lay heavily upon the lower boughs and they broke, instead of bending.  When Spring danced through the world again, piping her plaintive music upon the farthest hills, the pines were almost bare.

[Sidenote:  As One]

“All through the sweet Summer the needles kept dropping.  Every frolicsome breeze of June carried some of them a little farther down the road; every full moon shone more clearly through the barrier of the pines.  And at last, when the chill winds of Autumn chanted a requiem through the forest, it was seen that the pines had long been dead, but they so leaned together and their branches were so interlaced, that, even in death, they stood as one.