"What can I do, my son?" said the queen, "tell me, and it shall be done if my magic has power to do it."
"Well, then, mother dear, turn the twenty-four dancers and pipers into twenty-four grey herons, and let my seven sons become seven white swans, and let me be a goshawk and their leader."
"Alas! alas! my son," she said, "that may not be; my magic reaches not so far. But perhaps my teacher, the spae-wife of Ostree, may know better." And away she hurried to the cave of Ostree, and after a while came out as white as white can be and muttering over some burning herbs she brought out of the cave. Suddenly Coo-my-dove changed into a goshawk, and around him flew twenty-four grey herons and above them flew seven cygnets.
Without a word or good-bye off they flew over the deep blue sea, which was tossing and moaning. They flew and they flew till they swooped down on Earl Mar's castle just as the wedding party were setting out for the church. First came the men-at-arms and then the bridegroom's friends, and then Earl Mar's men, and then the bridegroom, and lastly, pale and beautiful, Earl Mar's daughter herself. Slowly, slowly they moved to stately music till they came past the trees on which the birds were settling. A word from Prince Florentine, the goshawk, and all rose into the air, herons beneath, cygnets above, and goshawk circling above all. The weddineers wondered at the sight when, swoop! the herons were down among them scattering the men-at-arms. The swanlets took charge of the bride while the goshawk dashed down
