“I’ll get great blame,” said the old hag, “for all the delay I’ve had. I’ll be going now.”
“What trouble is on you that you’ll be blamed for your delay?”
“Those twelve pigs that you saw,” said the hag, “are twelve sons of mine, and the pig without a head is my husband. Those twelve foul, yellow hags that you saw are my twelve daughters. The twelve beautiful women who ate with you are my daughters’ attendants.”
“Why are your twelve sons and your husband pigs, and your twelve daughters yellow old hags?”
“The Awus in that house there beyond has them enchanted and held in subjection. There isn’t a night but I must go with a gold apple to him.”
“I will go with you to-night,” said Cud.
“There is no use in going,” said the hag.
They were talking a long time before she would let him go. She went first, and he followed. She knocked, and they opened the door. Cud was in with her that instant. One Awus rose and put seven bolts and seven locks on the door. Cud rose and put on seven locks and seven bolts more. All began to laugh when they saw Cud doing this. The old chief, who was standing at the hearth, let such a roar out of him that Cud saw the heart inside in his body.
“Why are you laughing?” asked Cud.
“We think you a nice bit of meat to roast on the spit. Rise up,” said he to a small attendant, “and tie that fellow.”