On the tenth day he looked into the pot and saw that all was of a rich golden color, bright and sparkling, with pretty rainbows mingled here and there in many a curious pattern.
“It is done,” he said. “I will test its power.”
He lifted the pot from the fire and allowed the mixture to cool, still singing his songs of magic. Then he went out to find something that had been wounded and might be healed.
Half-way down the mountain side there was a giant pine tree which the lightning had split from crown to roots. Its two halves gaped wide apart; its torn and broken branches hung dangling in the wind.
“Ah! here is a case to test,” said the young man. Then, with the greatest care, he took a small portion of the ointment upon his finger; he smeared it gently upon the trunk and branches [[28]]of the wounded pine; he sang softly a little song of magic:
“Make it whole and make it strong,
Heal it all its length along;
Join part to part, restore its heart,
And make it straight as hunter’s dart.
Thus your magic power show,