While these things occurred at the giant’s dwelling, the boy sat on the other side of the water, rejoicing that he had got on so well.

The most difficult task, however, had yet to be done, and for a long time he thought over how he could get the golden harp.  At length he determined to row over to the giant’s place and see if fortune would favour him.

No sooner said than done.  He rowed over and went to a hiding-place.  The giant had, however, been on the watch, and had seen him.  So he rushed forward in a terrible rage and seized the boy, saying—­

“So I have caught you at last, you young rascal.  You it was who stole my sword, my three gold hens, and my gold lantern.”

The boy was terribly afraid, for he thought his last hour was come.

“Spare my life, father,” said he humbly, “and I will never come here again.”

“No,” replied the giant, “I will do the same with you as with the others.  No one slips alive out of my hands.”

He then shut the boy up in a sty, and fed him with nuts and sweet milk, so as to get him nice and fat preparatory to killing and eating him.

The lad was a prisoner, but he ate and drank and made himself as easy as he could.  After some time the giant wanted to find out if he were fat enough to be killed.  So he went to the sty, made a little hole in the wall, and told the boy to put his finger through it.  The lad knew what he wanted; so instead of putting out his finger he poked out a little peeled alder twig.  The giant cut the twig, and the red sap ran out.  Then he thought the boy must be yet very lean since his flesh was so hard, so he caused a greater supply of milk and nuts to be given to him.

Some time after, the giant again visited the sty, and ordered the boy to put his finger through the hole in the wall.  The lad now poked out a cabbage-stalk, and the giant, having cut it with his knife, concluded that the lad must be fat enough, his flesh seemed so soft.

The next morning the giant said to his wife—­

“The boy seems to be fat enough now, mother; take him then to-day, and bake him in the oven, while I go and ask our kinsfolk to the feast.”

The old woman promised to do what her husband told her.  So, having heated the oven, she dragged out the boy to bake him.

“Sit on the shovel,” said she.

The boy did so, but when the old woman raised the shovel the boy always fell off.  So they went on many times.  At last the giantess got angry, and scolded the boy for being so awkward; the lad excused himself, saying that he did not know the way to sit on the shovel.

“Look at me,” said the woman, “I will show you.”

So she sat herself down on the shovel, bending her back and drawing up her knees.  No sooner was she seated than the boy, seizing hold of the handle, pushed her into the oven and slammed the door to.  Then he took the woman’s fur cloak, stuffed it out with straw, and laid it on the bed.  Seizing the giant’s bunch of keys, he opened the twelve locks, snatched up the golden harp, and ran down to his boat, which he had hidden among the flags on the shore.