The bush-virgins joined these fresh tunes of the eternally young happiness of life in daring exuberance. Wherever they appeared, everything around them began to dance, and in this serene full-moon night the whole mountain-forest began to move in a miraculous playful manner.

Together with the sounding crown and the golden-shimmering mountain of rocks, that sounded from its depth, these girls of magic again and again sang the wind-steeped, roaring storm-song of perfect, inebriating cheerfulness.
And soon the merry swirling wake of their enlivening songs of joy was so strong that everything in their surroundings moved in circles like self-sounding structures of air, enrapturedly danced into the nostrils of the magic girls as they breathed in, and danced out again as they breathed out, only to resound even fuller.

Towards the crowned peak of the mountain, the gold-spinning and gold-dancing bush-virgins ground the gold of happiness, and weaved silence and peace over it.
But into the lower slopes of the mountain they ground the salt and generated sea-storms and wild weather.

From the innumerable small dew-drops, which slumbered on all the flowers, leaves and the grass, they drew the nectar and sent it up, as a river of gold, to the crown of the mountain; the remaining water they sent into the depth as a sea-storm.
Like will-oi-the-wisps the dew-drops bounced up high before they burst.