A long time passed, but neither the wine nor the dogs appeared.
"I can well see," said the giant, "that your dogs do not do what you tell them, or we should not sit here thirsty. It seems to me it would be best to send Quick-ear to ascertain why they don't come back."
The lad was nettled at that, and ordered his third dog to go in haste to the spring. Quick-ear did not want to go, but whined and crept to his master's feet. Then the lad became angry, and drove him away. The dog had to obey, so away he set in great haste to the top of the mountain. When he reached it, it happened to him as it had to the others. There arose a high wall around him, and he was made a prisoner by the giant's sorcery.
When all the three dogs were gone, the giant stood up, put on a different look, and gripped his bright sword which hung upon the wall.
"Now will I avenge my brethren," said he, "and you shall die this instant, for you are in my hands."
The lad was frightened, and repented that he had parted with his dogs.
"I will not ask my life," said he, "for I must die some day. I only ask one thing, that I may say my Paternoster and play a psalm on my pipe. That is the custom in my country."
The giant granted him his wish, but said he would not wait long. The lad knelt down, and devoutly said his Paternoster, and began to play upon his pipe so that it was heard over hill and dale. That instant the magic lost its power, and the dogs were once more set free. They came down like a blast of wind, and rushed into the mountain. Then the lad sprang up and cried—
"Hold-fast, hold him; Tear and Quick-ear, tear him into a thousand pieces."
The dogs flew on the giant, and tore him into countless shreds. Then the lad took all the treasures in the mountain, harnessed the giant's horses to a golden chariot, and made haste to be gone.