And Thursday dawn arrived. Outside, a pink glow appeared low on the eastern edge of the sky. The chorus of songbirds whistled cheerful tunes, squirrels leapt carefree among the tree branches, and hedgehogs rustled softly in the fallen leaves.
At this hour, the Thursday witches were already hard at work; it was their turn to handle charms, hexes, and spells.
The hermit, too, rose early that day. He had tasks assigned to every day of the week. On Thursdays and Mondays, he fetched water from a distant, magic-infused spring. There was enough for the Monday, Tuesday, and other weekday witches as well—except for Frosty-Eye Kate and Grumpy Enciana.
It was Thursday. One of the most beautiful days of the week.
Frosty Ivan prepared his two water barrels and carefully loaded them onto the wheelbarrow: the green one in front, the white one at the back, just as he always did on Mondays and Thursdays. He already looked forward to the pleasant walk, but Frosty Ivan the hermit was happiest of all that today was not Saturday. If he was lucky, he would not see Frosty-Eye Kate all day, nor hear her voice.
The hermit's hair stood on end whenever he saw the Saturday witch, and a chill ran down his spine whenever the hag opened her mouth. Frosty-Eye Kate scolded Frosty Ivan persistently every day of the week, but Saturdays were the worst.
Last Saturday, the hermit had stood in the corner for half an hour, then counted the hairs on his winter coat. In the afternoon, he climbed onto the fence and crowed at every witch who flew over his house or passed by his yard. Later his hair turned green, and then Frosty-Eye Kate transformed his dinner into frogs.
When the evening star shone brightly in the sky and the Saturday witch was already at her weekly gathering on the Mountain, Frosty Ivan was still chasing frogs to usher them out of his house. Kate had forgotten to conjure the pimples onto the hermit's face that Saturday.
"She forgot!" Frosty Ivan thought with glee.
During the night, someone kicked his door. Perhaps the Saturday witch, Frosty-Eye Kate, couldn't sleep and was bold enough to come and ruin the hermit's dreams as well.
"That wretch! That scoundrel!" Frosty Ivan cursed Frosty-Eye Kate silently as the wheelbarrow, loaded with empty water barrels, creaked out of his yard.
Today he would turn around three times in front of Frosty-Eye Kate's house, just so the creaking of the wheelbarrow would wake the Saturday witch.
"That wretch! That scoundrel!" Frosty Ivan muttered. She was capable of coming in the middle of the night and kicking his door. Let the shameless hag get no rest!
Frosty Ivan rubbed his hands together in delight. He would wake Frosty-Eye Kate from her sweetest dream. The wheelbarrow creaked, Frosty Ivan hummed, but he did not get far along the road with his cheerful, whistling creak. He noticed two sleeping witches near his house, in a haystack by the roadside.
"These Wednesday witches must have worn out their brooms until dawn, then sat down on the edge of the haystack to rest and chat, and fell asleep," the hermit thought indulgently.
He softened his whistling and the creaking. When he came closer to the hags and recognized them, he regretted it deeply.
"Frosty-Eye Kate! Grumpy Enciana!" he barked loudly when he recognized the sleeping witches.
Frosty-Eye Kate sprang up at once at the hermit's voice and, with hands on hips, a furrowed brow, and her nose thrust forward, glared angrily at Frosty Ivan.
Grumpy Enciana was the one who realized that something strange had happened. She had gone to sleep at home in her bed and now awoke at dawn near the hermit's house, at the foot of a haystack. The Wednesday witch could not bring herself to comment on it.
Frosty Ivan stomped angrily with his right foot and set the wheelbarrow down on the ground. He stomped angrily with his left foot as well, before beginning to berate the two witches in a booming voice:
"Frosty-Eye Kate! Grumpy Enciana! You were the ones kicking my door around midnight!"
Grumpy Enciana was pleased that Frosty Ivan's sleep had been disturbed during the night, but she had not invited the Saturday witch to come along and kick doors.
"Too lazy even to get dressed! You thought the other witches wouldn't see you kicking doors in your nightgowns!"
Frosty-Eye Kate still stood with hands on hips, brow furrowed, nose thrust forward, looking over Grumpy Enciana and herself. The Wednesday witch sat at the base of the haystack in a red nightgown; she herself stood there in a black one.
"Shameless witches!" Frosty Ivan judged the situation.
He lifted the wheelbarrow and walked off without looking back, creaking merrily and whistling as he went. He was glad that this time he had left Frosty-Eye Kate without a word.
The two witches looked at each other. The Saturday witch spoke first:
"The Wednesday witches played a trick on me, and you were in on it," Frosty-Eye Kate accused her at once.
She lowered her hands from her hips, furrowed her brow less, and no longer thrust her nose forward so much. That posture was reserved for Frosty Ivan alone. On Saturday, when her magic returned, she would teach all the Wednesday witches a lesson. They would wake up in the treetops on Sunday morning. Perhaps a branch would even break under one of those Wednesday hags.
Grumpy Enciana struggled to her feet and looked for her broom. They spotted it on top of the haystack together with the other witch's broom, piled one on top of the other.
"They sent me home from the gathering," she confessed to Frosty-Eye Kate. She had no desire to argue with the witch for hours.
"And Kate, why would I curse myself to wake up at dawn in a nightgown at the foot of a haystack to Frosty Ivan's voice?"
"It was the Wednesday witches," the Saturday witch repeated. No one else had magic on Wednesdays.
Grumpy Enciana was already standing on top of the haystack.
"Here, your broom!" she tossed the precious object down to Frosty-Eye Kate.
She had no desire to climb down from the haystack; from there she mounted her broom and flew home in the opposite direction.
"I was the one who kicked Frosty Ivan's door last night," she called back with a cheerful grin.
This was the best news of the day for Frosty-Eye Kate. The hermit's sleep had been disturbed in the middle of the night. Frosty Ivan had not only told a big lie by accusing them. It was another matter that when something bad happened to the hermit, Kate was almost never innocent.
Mollified, she wished Grumpy Enciana a nice day. Then she looked after the hermit. If she mounted her broom now, she could still catch up with him and supply him with insults for the rest of the day as well.