“Get up, boys! I have found a good meal for you. Go make your repast on the two human beings, and save a portion for me.” Mirza stood at the cave’s entrance with his magic sword, and cut off the head of each giant as they came out one by one. Then he entered the cave, and taking hold of the giantess, said:
“Ugly hag! did you dare to send your sons to devour my brothers! Here! share the fate of your younglings.” So speaking, he cut her head off too. He came back and found his brothers snoring as before. He took the sleep-rings from their ears, and at daybreak went to bed and feigned sleep. In the morning the second brother jogged Mirza, saying:
“Get up, ho! will you sleep till noon? Have a little mercy on me, who have watched all the night.”
They all rose and mounted their horses. That day they came to the Black Mountain, where the two elder brothers desired to camp. Mirza began again to implore them, saying:
“This time, at least, let us follow the advice of our father and not halt on this enchanted ground; let us avoid a third disaster which may perhaps be fatal.”
“What a coward you are!” exclaimed his brothers. “What danger was there in lodging in the mill or in camping on the green meadows? As it is your turn to watch to-night, you grumble. Be silent! We will camp here to-night, and you must keep watch.”
They pitched their tents, and after a meal, the two elder brothers soon went to bed. Mirza girded on his magic sword, took his bow and arrows, and began his watch. The first part of the night was quiet. After midnight he sat down to take a little rest, and on account of his sleeplessness on the two previous nights, he soon fell asleep. When he opened his eyes it was near daybreak. He rose, and to his great dismay he found the fire was out. It was a sign that he had slept and this would disgrace him. He could not start the fire anew because the flint and steel were in the pockets of the other brothers. He ran to the top of the neighboring hill, whence he saw a light gleaming at a distance. He determined to fetch embers from that light, and make his own fire. On the hilltop he met an old man winding a ball of black thread, while another ball of white thread lay near him.
“Good-day to you, father!” said the lad.
“God’s blessing rest upon you!” answered the old man.
“Who are you, and what are these balls?” asked Mirza.