“That may be so, and that may not be so,” said the king’s son, “but you lent no hand to help; so now may I have the one who builds the fire and draws the water?”
At this the old witch shook her head. “No,” said she, “there is more to be done yet before you can have what you ask for. If you can thatch the roof of the stable with bird feathers, no two of which shall be of the same color, and can do it between the rise and the set of sun to-morrow, then you shall have your sweetheart and welcome. But if you fail your bones shall be ground as fine as malt in the mill.”
Very well; that suited the king’s son well enough. So at sunrise he arose and went into the fields with his gun; but if there were birds to be shot, it was few of them that he saw; for at noontide he had but two, and they were both of a color. At that time who should come to him but the Swan Maiden.
“One should not tramp and tramp all day with never a bit of rest,” said she; “come hither and lay your head in my lap for a while.”
The prince did as she bade him, and the maiden again combed his hair with a golden comb until he fell asleep. When he awoke the sun was setting, and his work was done. He heard the old witch coming, so up he jumped to the roof of the stable and began laying a feather here and a feather there, for all the world as though he were just finishing his task.
“You never did that work alone,” said the old witch.
“That may be so, and that may not be so,” said the prince; “all the same, it was none of your doing. So now may I have the one who draws the water and builds the fire?”
But the witch shook her head. “No,” said she, “there is still another task to do before that. Over yonder is a fir-tree; on the tree is a crow’s nest, and in the nest are three eggs. If you can harry that nest to-morrow between the rising and the setting of the sun, neither breaking nor leaving a single egg, you shall have that for which you ask.”
Very well; that suited the prince. The next morning at the rising of the sun he started off to find the fir-tree, and there was no trouble in the finding I can tell you, for it was more than a hundred feet high, and as smooth as glass from root to tip. As for climbing it, he might as well have tried to climb a moonbeam, for in spite of all his trying he did nothing but slip and slip. By and by came the Swan Maiden as she had come before.
