cooking her supper in a pot. She was so old that her chin and nose almost met, and so skinny she was scarcely more than bones, and the eyes under her brows were red and evil.
“Good evening, mother,” said the Prince.
“Good evening, son,” replied the woman.
“May I and my animals warm ourselves beside the fire?” asked the Prince.
“As for yourself, you’re welcome,” said the old woman; “but as for your animals, I am afraid of them. Just let me give each one of them a little blow with my staff to show them I’m mistress, and then they may rest by the fire also.”
The Prince did not say no, so the old woman took up her staff and with it she quickly touched one animal after the other, beginning with the lion and ending with the hare, and as soon as she touched them, each one was turned into a stone figure, for the old woman was a witch and as wicked as she was ugly. Then she touched the Prince with her staff, and he also became a stone image without life or motion.
Then the old hag laughed with glee and counted them over. They were not the only ones she had either. All about were other stones that had once been living beings.
Now some time after this, the second Prince, who had traveled far and was weary of journeying, came back to the branching road where the tree stood with its notches, and he wished to see how his brothers were faring.
He touched the notch that belonged to the youngest Prince, and milk flowed out from it. So he knew all was well with his youngest brother. Then he touched the notch that belonged to the eldest Prince, and forth from that flowed blood. Then he was grieved to the heart because he knew death or disaster must have come upon his brother.
“Now will I set forth in search of him,” said he, “and never will I stop nor stay until I find what has become of him and whether I can give him succor.”