"Wilt thou remain here, father, and watch that no wolf come out of the wood and scatter the flock?" said the son, and hurried on in the direction the dogs had taken.
The father remained standing, keeping his eyes on the lambs; but it was not long before he heard the missing dogs bark, and fancied he heard also the voice of his son.
He listened. He was not mistaken. The son called with all his might his father's name, who, terrified lest something dreadful had happened, hastened after the voice.
The way he had to take was perfectly strange to him, although he had often been in the same wood before; also the forest seemed very much altered; in the place of the young, slender trees, stood primeval, mighty oaks, and under their deep shades, through an opening in the trees, rose the grey dilapidated walls of a ruined church.
At the entrance to this church, half hidden by wild briars, trees, and ivy, he saw his son standing with a look of amazement and with an uncertain air, for he too had never discovered these ruins, and curiosity and fear of enchantment fought a sharp contest in his breast.
The arrival of the father, however, put an end to all fear, and after a short consultation, whether they should enter the desolate, ghost-like ruins, curiosity triumphed, so much the more, since they observed that the track of the dogs led through the bushes into the wall. With considerable effort they made their way through the rank weeds and thorns, and reached a high portal, fallen in on one side. They went through it, and saw themselves surrounded by a dim twilight, since the openings in the arch ceiling were insufficient to light the interior, and the slender arched windows were so overgrown with ivy and other plants that they stood in a green night.
They could scarcely distinguish the spot where the altar had stood, and where masses of broken, scattered stones betrayed the fury of the storm that had destroyed it.
Approaching the spot, they were seized with trembling as they discovered an old crucifix in the wall, and, bending the knee, murmured a prayer.
A noise startled them; looking around they perceived the dogs behind a portion of the broken altar, scratching and digging, without troubling themselves at the presence of their masters, as if they had been fastened by enchantment to the spot.
The shepherds approached the corner where they were scraping and pawing, and looked attentively at the hole growing every moment larger and deeper in the ground, and soon a sheet-iron chest became visible.