HOW MR. SCHWARTZ SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND HOW
HE PROSPERED THEREIN
Poor little Gluck waited very anxiously,
alone in the house, for Hans’s return.
Finding he did not come back, he was terribly frightened
and went and told Schwartz in the prison all that
had happened. Then Schwartz was very much pleased
and said that Hans must certainly have been turned
into a black stone and he should have all the gold
to himself. But Gluck was very sorry and cried
all night. When he got up in the morning there
was no bread in the house, nor any money; so Gluck
went and hired himself to another goldsmith, and he
worked so hard and so neatly and so long every day
that he soon got money enough together to pay his
brother’s fine, and he went and gave it all to
Schwartz, and Schwartz got out of prison. Then
Schwartz was quite pleased and said he should have
some of the gold of the river. But Gluck only
begged he would go and see what had become of Hans.
Now when Schwartz had heard that Hans
had stolen the holy water, he thought to himself that
such a proceeding might not be considered altogether
correct by the King of the Golden River, and determined
to manage matters better. So he took some more
of Gluck’s money and went to a bad priest, who
gave him some holy water very readily for it.
Then Schwartz was sure it was all quite right.
So Schwartz got up early in the morning before the
sun rose, and took some bread and wine in a basket,
and put his holy water in a flask, and set off for
the mountains. Like his brother he was much
surprised at the sight of the glacier and had great
difficulty in crossing it, even after leaving his
basket behind him. The day was cloudless but
not bright; there was a heavy purple haze hanging
over the sky, and the hills looked lowering and gloomy.
And as Schwartz climbed the steep rock path the thirst
came upon him, as it had upon his brother, until he
lifted his flask to his lips to drink. Then
he saw the fair child lying near him on the rocks,
and it cried to him and moaned for water. “Water,
indeed,” said Schwartz; “I haven’t
half enough for myself,” and passed on.
And as he went he thought the sunbeams grew more
dim, and he saw a low bank of black cloud rising out
of the west; and when he had climbed for another hour,
the thirst overcame him again and he would have drunk.
Then he saw the old man lying before him on the path,
and heard him cry out for water. “Water,
indeed,” said Schwartz; “I haven’t
half enough for myself,” and on he went.
Then again the light seemed to fade from before his
eyes, and he looked up, and, behold, a mist, of the
color of blood, had come over the sun; and the bank
of black cloud had risen very high, and its edges
were tossing and tumbling like the waves of the angry
sea and they cast long shadows which flickered over
Schwartz’s path.
Then Schwartz climbed for another
hour, and again his thirst returned; and as he lifted
his flask to his lips he thought he saw his brother
Hans lying exhausted on the path before him, and as
he gazed the figure stretched its arms to him and
cried for water. “Ha, ha!” laughed
Schwartz, “are you there? Remember the prison
bars, my boy. Water, indeed! do you suppose
I carried it all the way up here for you?” And
he strode over the figure; yet, as he passed, he thought
he saw a strange expression of mockery about its lips.
And when he had gone a few yards farther, he looked
back; but the figure was not there.
And a sudden horror came over Schwartz,
he knew not why; but the thirst for gold prevailed
over his fear, and he rushed on. And the bank
of black cloud rose to the zenith, and out of it came
bursts of spiry lightning, and waves of darkness seemed
to heave and float, between their flashes, over the
whole heavens. And the sky where the sun was
setting was all level and like a lake of blood; and
a strong wind came out of that sky, tearing its crimson
clouds into fragments and scattering them far into
the darkness. And when Schwartz stood by the
brink of the Golden River, its waves were black like
thunder clouds, but their foam was like fire; and
the roar of the waters below and the thunder above
met as he cast the flask into the stream. And
as he did so the lightning glared in his eyes, and
the earth gave way beneath him, and the waters closed
over his cry. And the moaning of the river rose
wildly into the night as it gushed over the
TWO BLACK STONES