HOW MR. SCHWARTZ SET OFF ON AN EXPEDITION TO THE GOLDEN RIVER, AND HOW
HE PROSPERED THEREIN.
[Illustration]
Poor little Gluck waited very anxiously alone in the house, for Hans'
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.
[Illustration]
Then again the light seemed to fade from before his eyes, and he looked
up, and, behold, a mist, of the colour 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.