‘Die, then,’ said the girl.
‘Well, then, take it, you brat,’ said the old hag, ‘and be off with you, and make haste with the water.’
The girl took the gold and ran out with it, and it was so bright that it shone all over the plain. As soon as she came to the river she lay down to take a drink of the water, but meanwhile the two of them had got down off the roof and thrust her, head first, into the river.
The old hag began now to long for the water, and said that the girl would be running about with the gold piece all over the plain, so she asked her son to go and get her a drop of water.
‘I won’t go,’ said he, ‘unless I get the gold cloak.’
‘Though I should die you shan’t have that,’ said the hag.
‘Die, then,’ said the son.
‘Well, then, take it,’ said the old hag, ‘and be off with you, but you must make haste with the water.’
He put on the cloak, and when he came outside it shone so bright that he could see to go with it. On reaching the river he went to take a drink like his sister, but at that moment Ring and Snati sprang upon him, took the cloak from him, and threw him into the river.
The old hag could stand the thirst no longer, and asked her husband to go for a drink for her; the brats, she said, were of course running about and playing themselves, just as she had expected they would, little wretches that they were.