‘Oh, it is much nicer to be a goatherd,’ she said; so he took the goats out.
When he was gone, she said to her husband, ‘You must kill my brother, for I cannot have him living here with me.’
‘But, my dear, why should I? He has done me no harm.’
‘I wish you to kill him,’ she answered, ‘or if not I will leave.’
‘Oh, all right, then,’ said he; ‘to-morrow I will change myself into a serpent, and hide myself in the date barrel; and when he comes to fetch dates I will sting him in the hand.’
‘That will do very well,’ said she.
When the sun was up next day, she called to her brother, ‘Go and mind the goats.’
‘Yes, of course,’ he replied; but the little boy called out: ‘Uncle, I want to come with you.’
‘Delighted,’ said the uncle, and they started together.
After they had got out of sight of the house the boy said to him, ‘Dear uncle, my father is going to kill you. He has changed himself into a serpent, and has hidden himself in the date barrel. My mother has told him to do it.’