mountains, not knowing where he was nor which way to turn. At last all worn out he threw himself down in the shade of a beech tree to rest. As the sword clanked on the ground, its silver voice rang out and a flock of thirty-six ravens circled over his head.
“Caw! Caw!” they croaked. Then, frightened by the sound of the sword, they flew away.
“Praise God!” cried the prince. “The Golden Castle can’t be far!”
He jumped up and started eagerly off in the direction the ravens had taken. As he left a valley and climbed a little hill he saw before him a beautiful wide meadow in the midst of which stood the Golden Castle shining like the sun. Before the gate of the castle stood a bent old Yezibaba leaning on a golden staff.
“Yi, yi, my boy,” she cried to the prince, “how did you get here? Why, not even a little bird or a tiny butterfly comes here, much less a human being! You’d better escape if life is dear to you, or my son, when he comes home, will eat you!”
“No, no, old mother, he won’t eat me, for I bring him greetings from his brother of the Silver Castle!”
“Well, if you bring greetings from the Silver Castle you are safe enough. Come in, my boy, and tell me your business.”
