He went on climbing the mountain, but had not got far, when he came suddenly upon a giant sitting at the mouth of a cave. He seemed a jolly, good-natured old fellow, with a pipe, and a bundle of cigars, and a bag of money on a sort of table before him.
Mark was not very much afraid of him, and, making a low bow, said, "Please, sir, tell me if I am near the place where the plant of life grows."
"It is not very far off, youngster; but you don't stir a step farther, until you gather all my grapes, and make wine of them. So be in a hurry."
Poor little Mark! He looked round and saw grape vines, with the fruit weighing them down in every direction. It took three times twenty-one days to gather them, and twice the same time to make the wine and put it into casks.
When all was done, he called out, "It's all done, Mr. Giant."
The giant tasted the wine, from the first and last cask, smacked his lips, and said, "That's what I call good! Here, monkey, take this thistle; when you reach home you will find in it everything you wish." In an instant, giant, casks, and all had disappeared.
But little Mark, holding fast to his thistle, journeyed on. Soon he came to a wide ravine. It was impossible to jump across, and so deep that the bottom could not be seen. He walked along the edge for a long time, but it grew wider and more precipitous. "Oh!" cried Mark in despair, "no sooner do I overcome one obstacle, than another rises in its place. How shall I ever get past this dreadful ravine? He covered his face with his hands, and murmured, "Oh, fairy Benevolence, must my mother die!"
Hardly was the last word spoken, when a wolf appeared, and asked in a rough voice what he wanted in his domains.
"Oh, Mr. Wolf," said Mark trembling, "I seek the plant of life for my mother."
"Well," growled the wolf, "you must first kill all the game in my forests, and make them into game pies. Here are a bow and arrows, and here is a fire in this hole; not a step shall you stir till you have finished."