The Black Stone.

When Hans did not come back Gluck grieved, but Schwartz was glad.  He decided to go and get the gold for himself.  He thought it might not do to steal the holy water, as Hans had done, so he took the money little Gluck had earned, and bought holy water of a bad priest.  Then he took a basket of bread and wine, and started off.

He came to the great hill of ice, and was as surprised as Hans had been, and found it as hard to cross.  Many times he slipped, and he was much frightened at the noises, and was very glad to get across, although he had lost his basket of bread and wine.  Then he came to the same hill of sharp, red stone, without grass or shade, that Hans had climbed.  And like Hans he became very thirsty.  Like Hans, too, he decided to drink a little of the water.  As he raised it to his lips, he suddenly saw the same fair child that Hans had seen.

“Water!” said the child.  “Water!  I am dying.”

“I have not enough for myself,” said Schwartz, and passed on.

A low bank of black cloud rose out of the west.

When he had climbed for another hour, the thirst overcame him again, and again he lifted the flask to his lips.  As he did so, he saw an old man who begged for water.

“I have not enough for myself,” said Schwartz, and passed on.

A mist, of the colour of blood, came over the sun.

Then Schwartz climbed for another hour, and once more he had to drink.  This time, as he lifted the flask, he thought he saw his brother Hans before him.  The figure stretched its arms to him, and cried out for water.

“Ha, ha,” laughed Schwartz, “do you suppose I brought the water up here for you?” And he strode over the figure.  But when he had gone a few yards farther, he looked back, and the figure was not there.

Then he stood at the brink of the Golden River, and its waves were black, and the roaring of the waters filled all the air.  He cast the flask into the stream.  And as he did so the lightning glared in his eyes, the earth gave way beneath him, and the river flowed over

The Two Black Stones.

When Gluck found himself alone, he at last decided to try his luck with the King of the Golden River.  The priest gave him some holy water as soon as he asked for it, and with this and a basket of bread he started off.

The hill of ice was much harder for Gluck to climb, because he was not so strong as his brothers.  He lost his bread, fell often, and was exhausted when he got on firm ground.  He began to climb the hill in the hottest part of the day.  When he had climbed for an hour he was very thirsty, and lifted the bottle to drink a little water.  As he did so he saw a feeble old man coming down the path toward him.

“I am faint with thirst,” said the old man; “will you give me some of that water?”

Gluck saw that he was pale and tired, so he gave him the water, saying, “Please don’t drink it all.”  But the old man drank a great deal, and gave back the bottle two-thirds emptied.  Then he bade Gluck good speed, and Gluck went on merrily.