“I will do that,” said the Awus.
He gave the word, and the hag was as fine a queen as she was before. She and Cud went back to the castle. The twelve pigs were twelve young men, and the thirteenth without a head was the king. She opened the chamber of the twelve yellow hags, and they were as beautiful as ever. All were very grateful to Cud for the good turn he had done them.
“I had one son,” said the queen; “while he was here he gave the old Awus enough to do.”
“Where is he now?” inquired Cud.
“In the Eastern World, in a field seven miles in length, and seven in width, and there isn’t a yard of that field in which a spike is not standing taller than a man. There is not a spike, except one, without a king’s son or a champion on it, impaled through his chin.”
“What name had your son?”
“Gold Boot.”
“I promise to bring Gold Boot here to you, or leave my own head on the spike.”
As early as the day rose Cud was ready, and away he went walking, and very little food had he with him. About midday he was at the enchanted field, in the Eastern World. He was walking till he came to Gold Boot. When he touched the body, the foot gave him a kick that sent him seven acres and seven ridges away, and put three bunches of the blood of his heart out of him.
“I believe what your mother said, that when you were living you were strong, and the strength you have now to be in you.”