Stefan came back even more crestfallen than Josef; and, having told his story, Karl, the eldest, with great indignation at the carelessness of his brothers, declared that he would make the trial next. He would not stick his prize in his belt or his hat, not he! he would carry it by a string, and then it couldn’t get loose; and as for the music, he had no fear of being led away by that. Josef, indeed, had had some excuse, as the strains took him by surprise, but to be so foolish as Stefan, after the warning example of another, was perfectly contemptible. He couldn’t be so silly as that, not he!
He started on his way betimes, and toiled along not without some misgivings lest he should find so good a post already occupied by another. But it was not so: the owner of the mansion gave him the same reception, the same charge, and the same warning as the other two; and, full of confidence in his superiority, he went forth to his work.
The weather was cool, and he had no need to seek the shade of the forest trees; and for more than a week he brought the full tale of geese home day by day. “What idiots those were to throw away their place for the sake of a little music!” he thought to himself one day later. “I told them I should not be so foolish—not I! I told them I shouldn’t be led away by it, and I haven’t been.”
But it was hotter that day, and in the afternoon, when the sun’s power was greatest—forgetting the warning of his brothers’ example, or rather setting it at defiance, with the assurance that though he sought the shade he need not listen to the music—he crept within the border of the cool forest, and lay down.
He had hardly done so when his senses were rapt by the delicious but deceitful strains. “The woods must be full of fairies!” he cried; “this can be no earthly music—I must follow it up and see what manner of instruments they are, for never on earth was heard the like!” But as he went on, the music always seemed farther off, and farther again, till at last the church bells rang the Ave, and the music ceased.
Then Karl woke to a sense of his weakness and folly; and though he ran every step of the way back to his geese, only two were there! Though he had now found the same fate befall himself as his brothers, in all particulars, yet he could not forbear searching for the lost geese; but of course it was in vain, and he had to return to the castle with but two. Nothing could look more miserable, or more ludicrous, than this diminished procession—Karl at the head of his two geese, who had gone out in the morning with such a goodly flock.
He would have gladly slunk away without exchanging a word with any one, but he could not escape being taken before the master, who scolded him in the same words in which he had chided his brothers, but gave him a fine rich cake to take home.
The cake was round, and it was very inconvenient to attempt to secure it by means of a string, but Karl had declared he would bring home his reward that way, and so it was a point of honour with him to do it. But passing by a Hof, on his way home, where was a large and powerful watch-dog on guard, he set off running to escape its grip. This was the very way to attract the beast’s notice, however; and off it set in pursuit, much faster than Karl’s legs could carry him away—and then, having jumped upon him and knocked him down, seized his cake, and devoured it before his eyes!
Karl had now to go home as empty-handed as his brothers, and as full of tears; but his father comforted him, and checked the rising gibe of his youngers by reminding them that all had failed equally; so they all joined in a good-humoured laugh in which there was nothing of bitterness.
The father then asked them if any of them wished to go out into the world and seek fortune again; but they all agreed that there was nothing to be gained by the move, and that though there were positions which at first sight seemed more brilliant and more delectable than their own, yet that each had its compensatory trials, and that they were best where God had placed them.