"'Yes, indeed. The King of this country has made it so. These burdens were fastened on at birth by His enemy, and as we grow they grow; and each year we carry them they get heavier and heavier, so that sometimes a very large burden has to be carried by a very weak person. No water that was in this land could cause these burdens to melt away; for it must be dyed with blood.'
"'With blood?' I asked.
"'Yes, with the blood of His own Son. But the King had pity; it was so sad to see the poor people living all their lives with these great burdens; and as the Son was willing to shed His life-blood, the King gave Him up.
"'So the stream I speak of is dyed with blood. Many shrink back for this very reason, and will have nothing to do with it; but when one thinks it is the only way to get rid of the burden, and that bathing in it gives an entrance to the King's palace at the end of the journey here, and that it is given to us at such a price—'
"'Of course, there is every reason to accept it; gratitude alone would be enough.'
"At this moment the girl woke. 'My foot hurts me,' she exclaimed, fretfully, 'and I cannot lie comfortably because of my burden. How I hate it!'
"'My dear,' said her mother soothingly, 'let us go to the stream; you could lose it there, if you would, in a moment.'
"The girl shook her head. 'I don't see how,' she said, 'and the stream looks so cold and dark. Let us go on our journey, mother.'
"So I saw that the mother could not put her in without her own consent; she could only lead her to it.
"When I next saw the travellers, it was in a different part of the King's country. Before me was a turning, narrow and steep, that led down to a dark water. 'This must be the blood-dyed river,' I thought.