Finally Matti decided to climb up the rocks. The trees of the forest around him became denser and darker as if they had crowded together deliberately to block his way. But again he found a kind of path or narrow trail among the tree trunks that wound its way up the mountain and led him to the steep slopes and into a tangle of black bushes. The path kept climbing up and up in sharp hairpins toward the top of the mountain till the sun sinking over the ridges began to paint the sky above the treetops the color of an immense fire, then of wine, then of burning embers. Soon the sky and earth would be covered over with a cloudy curtain of ash.
Now he saw a stone wall with a gate made of thick tree stumps, and from inside, above the wall and the gate, a cloud illuminated by many colors rose and hovered, and many strange sounds came from it, high sharp sounds and deep faint sounds, and delicate soft sounds like snowflakes, whistling, chirping, panting, croaking sounds, grating sounds and soothing sounds, sounds Matti had never heard in his life, and yet he recalled them and knew they were the sounds of animals and birds, gentle mooing sounds and low growls and chorus after chorus of tweeting-twittering-singing voices. And among them was Maya's voice, clear and ringing with joy, What's wrong with you, Matti, don't stand outside like that, open the gate and come in too.