They say this happened long ago. Ilka, a shepherd girl of twelve, was taking her twenty sheep home across the frozen lake. Her grandfather Bela said, "Never cross the lake at night. The ice is thin where the old village lies." But a lamb had run away, and now it was evening.
In the middle of the lake, thick fog came down. Ilka could not see the shore. The ice began to crack, and the sheep cried. She remembered her grandfather's other rule: "When you are lost, stand still and listen." She stood still. Far away, a deep bell was ringing.
She walked towards the sound, and the ice was strong. At the shore, the old bell hung on a post, but nobody was there. Bela came with a lantern. "I did not ring it," he said. "Nobody did."
