Then he grasped the Minstrel’s knee just above the place where the wicked axe had struck it. He pressed the sides of the wound together firmly, gently. The bleeding ceased; and now not even the smallest drop escaped. The Graybeard bound soft bands of linen around the limb, he laid the Minstrel upon his own rude bed, he covered him with warm robes and bade him rest quietly.
“The flow of blood is stanched,” he said; “we must now heal Iron’s bitter bite, we must close up the gaping, ugly wound.”
Then turning to his son, he said, “Go now to our smithy on the mountain. Take with you a supply of healing herbs, as I have taught you. Bake them, boil them, mix them, brew them into a magic ointment that will heal all manner of wounds. When you have finished the mixture and tested it, bring it hither to me.”
“That I will do, father,” answered the young [[26]]man; and with a basket on his arm and a glad song rising from his lips, he hastened away.
Half-way up the mountain side he came to a gnarly old oak.
“Friend oak, so good and strong,” he said, “have you any honey on your branches?”
“Look and see,” answered the oak. “Yesterday I had such plenty that the bees came to carry it away.”
The young man gathered many handfuls of slender twigs from the tree, and saw that on each twig was a tiny drop of dew. Then he wandered hither and thither among the rocks, seeking all kinds of healing herbs and putting them in his basket. When, at length, the basket was filled, he went on, whistling, to the little smithy on the mountain top.
Soon a fire was roaring in the furnace. A pot was filled with the herbs and twigs and set to boiling on the coals. The pungent odor of the mixture pervaded the air; every corner of the smithy was lit up with the glare of the flames; the smoke rolled in clouds from the smoke hole in the roof.
For three sunny days and three lonely nights the youth stood over the furnace and stirred [[27]]the magic mixture. He threw fuel upon the flames, he poured fresh spring water into the seething pot. And all the while he sang weird songs and muttered strange charms such as his father had taught him. Then for nine nights he caught the moonbeams and mingled them with the mixture; and for nine days he entrapped the sunlight and added it to the magic ointment.