If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to his brothers, it was twenty times worse for him, who was neither so strong nor so practised on the mountains.  He had several very bad falls, lost his basket and bread, and was very much frightened at the strange noises under the ice.  He lay a long time to rest on the grass, after he had got over, and began to climb the hill in just the hottest part of the day.  When he had climbed for an hour, he got dreadfully thirsty, and was going to drink like his brothers, when he saw an old man coming down the path above him, looking very feeble, and leaning on a staff.  “My son,” said the old man, “I am faint with thirst, give me some of that water.”  Then Gluck looked at him, and, when he saw that he was pale and weary, he gave him the water.  “Only pray don’t drink it all,” said Gluck.  But the old man drank a great deal, and gave him back the bottle two-thirds empty.  Then he bade him good speed, and Gluck went on again merrily.  And the path became easier to his feet, and two or three blades of grass appeared upon it, and some grasshoppers began singing on the bank beside it; and Gluck thought he had never heard such merry singing.

Then he went on for another hour, and the thirst increased on him so that he thought he should be forced to drink.  But, as he raised the flask, he saw a little child lying panting by the roadside, and it cried out piteously for water.  Then Gluck struggled with himself, and determined to bear the thirst a little longer; and he put the bottle to the child’s lips, and it drank it all but a few drops.  Then it smiled on him, and got up, and ran down the hill; and Gluck looked after it till it became as small as a little star, and then turned and began climbing again.  And then there were all kinds of sweet flowers growing on the rocks, bright green moss, with pale pink starry flowers, and soft belled gentians, more blue than the sky at its deepest, and pure white transparent lilies.  And crimson and purple butterflies darted hither and thither, and the sky sent down such pure light, that Gluck had never felt so happy in his life.

Yet, when he had climbed for another hour, his thirst became intolerable again; and, when he looked at his bottle, he saw that there were only five or six drops left in it, and he could not venture to drink.  And, as he was hanging the flask to his belt again, he saw a little dog lying on the rocks, gasping for breath—­just as Hans had seen it on the day of his ascent.  And Gluck stopped and looked at it and then at the Golden River, not five hundred yards above him; and he thought of the dwarf’s words, “that no one could succeed, except in his first attempt”; and he tried to pass the dog, but it whined piteously, and Gluck stopped again.  “Poor beastie!” said Gluck:  “it’ll be dead when I come down again, if I don’t help it.”  Then he looked closer and closer at it, and its eye turned on him so mournfully that he could not stand it.  “Confound the King and his gold too,” said Gluck; and he opened the flask, and poured all the water into the dog’s mouth.