become of the other; they were both among strangers who knew nothing of their native land. High mountains and deep valleys lay between them. In order to support themselves, they were both obliged to tend sheep, and for many long years they led their flocks over the plains and through the forests, full of sorrow and longing.
Once more the spring had broken forth over the earth, when, as fate would have it, they met one another one day while out with their flocks. The husband saw a flock of sheep on a distant hill-side and drove his own towards them, and in a valley on the way he came upon his wife. They did not recognise each other, but both of them were glad to think that they would no longer be so lonely as heretofore. From this time forth they tended their flocks side by side; they did not speak much, but they felt comforted.
One evening, when the full moon was shining in the heavens above them, and the sheep were already lying down for the night, the shepherd drew his flute out of his pocket and played on it a beautiful but melancholy air. When he had finished, he saw that the shepherdess was weeping bitterly. "Why do you weep?" he asked. "Alas, she answered, "even as now the full moon was shining, when I played that tune for the last time upon the flute, and saw my beloved one's head rise above the waters." He looked at her, and it seemed to him as if a veil fell from before his eyes, and he recognised his dearest wife. And she looked up and saw the moonlight shining on her husband's face, and she also knew him again.
They kissed and embraced one another, and there is no need to ask if they were happy.
