Now in a raging and rearing flow the wild huntress with her retinue streamed forth from the midst of the golden whirl. On
her white-golden chariot she chased the wild hunter through the raging whirling winds.
Her silvery gleaming chariot, however, crashed on the wake of the golden-silvery whirl, when she stood all too fast against it.

And when the skilled alfs had fixed it with their golden-silvery hammers and axes, the vehicle, which had been silver before, now shone in bright gold.
The huntress had hardly mounted it again, when golden chips shot from the hubs of the cart as dark-yellow many-legged flashes of lightning up into the clouds and incited them to ever new down-pours.

“This is the eternal hour of birth of freedom in the world,” Sol explained.

The wild huntress was followed now by all the witches. Once touched by the golden arrows they turned into shining, splendidly clothed wishing-girls; and the brooms, on which they had been riding, changed into magnificent horses with golden-silvery manes and hooves.
And for a bridle these beautiful Valkyries used silvery-colourful scintillating snakes, which came flying towards them from the whirling wishing-ocean.