"All right!" and another forest-keeper stood before them, much surprised to see seven instead of one.
"Have you captured poachers?"
"No, the older ones are gypsies," for in the dim light of the cabin he was quite sure that they belonged to that army of rovers.
"Are we then so dark?" asked the basket-maker, amused at the mistake.
"All animals look dark at night."
"Except a white cow," suggested the butcher.
"But, Hartman, you have three boys with you," continued the forest-keeper. "So young and yet night-strollers!"
"No, these boys are all right. They have been passing their holiday in Frankfort, and are on their way home. They got lost in the forest, the rain came up and they took shelter in the abandoned cabin. One of them tells me that he is the son of Forest-keeper Krupp."
The forester said good-night, and they walked on for some distance and at length came to a clearing in the forest. Looking up, they could see the unchangeable stars, the same that looked down upon Mother Earth when she was fresh from the hands of her Creator. A tinkling brook lay across their path, which the forester cleared at a bound, and the three apprentices followed. The triplets halted to view the situation, but Pixy sprang across, then looked back as if to say, "It is nothing. Just give a spring and you are on this side," and they ran back, gave a long jump and were over.
A short distance beyond was the forest-keeper's cottage, a comfortable place for weary travelers on a wet night.