But the poor man’s son refused to forsake him. “Thou hast loaded me with goodness and favours,” he said, as he wept; “if I may not go instead of thee, at least I will go with thee.” And he continued following the Prince.
When they got near the pool, they heard a low, rumbling, horrible sound: it was the two Serpent-gods talking together, and talking about them, for they were on the look-out to see who would be sent to them this year for the tribute. The old gold-yellow Serpent was telling the young emerald-green Serpent how the Prince had come instead of his father, and how the poor man, who had no need to come at all, had insisted on accompanying him.
“And these people are so devoted in giving their lives for one another,” said the young emerald-green Serpent, “and have not the courage to come out and fight us, and make an end of paying this tribute at all.”
“They don’t know the one only way to fight us,” answered the gold-yellow old Serpent; “and as all the modes they have tried have always failed, they imagine it cannot be done, and they try no more.”
“And what is the one only way by which they could prevail against us?” inquired the young emerald-green Serpent.
“They have only to cut off our heads with a blow of a stout staff,” replied the old gold-yellow Serpent, “for so has Shêsa, the Serpent-dæmon, appointed.”
“But these men carry shining swords that look sharp and fearful,” urged the young emerald-green Serpent.
“That is it!” rejoined the other: “their swords avail nothing against us, and so they never think that a mere staff should kill us. Also, if after cutting off our heads they were to eat them, they would be able to spit as much gold and precious stones as ever they liked. But they know nothing of all this,” chuckled the old gold-yellow Serpent.
Meantime, the Prince had not lost a word of all that the two Serpents had said to each other, for his mother had taught him the speech of all manner of creatures. So when he first heard the noise of the Serpents talking together, he had stood still, and listened to their words. Now, therefore, he told it all again to his follower, and they cut two stout staves in the wood, and then drew near, and cut off the heads of the Serpents with the staves—each of them one; and when they had cut them off, the Prince ate the head of the gold-yellow Serpent, and, see! he could spit out as much gold money as ever he liked; and his follower ate the head of the emerald-green Serpent, and he could spit out emeralds as many as ever he pleased.
Then spoke the poor man’s son: “Now that we have killed the Serpents, and restored the due course of the water to our native country, let us return home and live at peace.”