Gradually the rage of the combatants subsided. Those who were able
withdrew with those of their companions who were disabled, leaving the
prostrate forms of the dead and dying.
And now the music portrayed the rising of the wind, the falling of rain,
the roar of thunder. This was succeeded by low, plaintive strains, as of
people weeping, and a party of elves in the garb of monks headed a
procession bearing lighted tapers and carrying biers, upon which they
placed the inanimate forms of the warriors. Slowly they paced about,
chanting in low tones, and constantly accompanied by the funeral dirge
of the musicians.
And now to Leo's almost overtaxed vision came a picture of a lonely
graveyard in the mountains, where the procession stopped. Even as he
looked it faded away; the sun streamed forth, shining upon a field of
grain where merry reapers swung their scythes and sang with glee. Trees
sprouted from fissures in the rock, birds flew about and perched
undismayed, and little hay-carts, piled high with their loads, came
creaking along, led by peasant elves, who were also seated on top of
their fragrant heaps of hay. Then the sun beamed upon a party of
drovers--elves in smock-frocks or blouses, driving flocks of sheep and
horned cattle, while the bleating of the sheep and the blowing of the
cattle were well imitated by the music.
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