“Dear Log,” they said, “let us rest for an hour. See, our brides are drooping with fatigue! One hour’s sleep and we shall all be refreshed!”
Instantly beside them on the forest floor they saw three soft white feather beds. Log leaped to the ground but before he was able to make the sign of the cross over more than one of the beds, his comrades and their brides had fallen headlong on the other two.
And that was the end of poor Three Bottles and Six Bottles and their two lovely brides. There was no way now of saving them from Suyettar. She had them in her power and nothing would induce her to give them up.
As Log and his bride sadly mounted their horse and rode on they heard an evil voice chanting out in triumph:
“I’ll fall upon them with a thud, he-he!
I’ll pick their bones and drink their blood, he-he!”
“Poor fellows! Poor fellows!” Log said, and the Princess wept to think of the awful fate that had overtaken her two sisters.
Well, Log and his bride reached home without further adventure and were received by the King with great honors.
“I knew my heroes were succeeding,” the King said, “when first the Dawn appeared again, and then the Moon, and last the mighty Sun. All hail to you, Log, and to your two comrades! But, by the way, where are Three Bottles and Six Bottles?”
“Your Majesty,” Log said, “Three Bottles and Six Bottles were brave men both. By their prowess they released the one the Dawn, the other the Moon. Then in an evil adventure on the way home they perished. I can tell you no more.”
“You can tell me no more?” the King said. “Why can you tell me no more? What was the evil adventure in which they perished?”