‘I have some good news for you,’ said the youngest, hastening to meet them; ‘our sister is here!’
‘Nonsense,’ they answered. ‘We have no sister; you know the child that was born was a boy.’
‘But that was not true,’ replied he, ‘and here she is with the negro and his wife. Only—she too is black,’ he added softly, but his brothers did not hear him, and pushed past joyfully.
‘How are you, good old Barka?’ they said to the negro; ‘and how comes it that we never knew that we had a sister till now?’ and they greeted Udea warmly, while she shed tears of relief and gladness.
The next morning they all agreed that they would not go out hunting. And the eldest brother took Udea on his knee, and she combed his hair and talked to him of their home till the tears ran down his cheeks and dropped on her bare arm. And where the tears fell a white mark was made. Then the brother took a cloth and rubbed the place, and he saw that she was not black at all.
‘Tell me, who painted you over like this?’ cried he.
‘I am afraid to tell you,’ sobbed the girl, ‘the negro will kill me.’
‘Afraid! and with seven brothers!’
‘Well, I will tell you then,’ she answered. ‘The negro forced me to dismount from the camel and let his wife ride instead. And the stones cut my feet till they bled and I had to bind them. And after that, when we heard your castle was near by, he took pitch and smeared my body with it.’
Then the brother rushed in wrath from the room, and seizing his sword, cut off first the negro’s head and then his wife’s. He next brought in some warm water, and washed his sister all over, till her skin was white and shining again.