For a moment the witch stood and waited. But there was no sound. Then she knew that the child had lied, and that he was alone. Therefore she fell upon him straightway, and killed him, and took from his body his liver, which was what she had desired. Then she thrust leaves into the opening she had made, and closed the edges. When she had thus done, she wrapped the dead child in his little mat, and laid him in the house, and made haste back to the hill where she dwelt.
Now it came to pass that in a little the child's father and mother returned from their fishing. They had with them strings of fresh fish, and, moreover, piles of those they had smoked.
"Little son will like some fish," said the father.
"Yea, truly," answered his wife, as she went into the house. "But look," she cried, pointing to the mat in the corner, "he is asleep."
"Ah, wake him then," said her husband. "He will not like to sleep now we are home."
Then did the woman gently shake the child by the shoulder, but he stirred not. And she laid her hand on his cheek. "Ah! lord," she cried to her husband. "Our child is cold and still. Come thou and waken him."
The man ran quickly and caught the child in his arms. But even then they saw the hole the witch had torn in his flesh, and they knew what had befallen him. The man gave the dead child to his mother, and went to get his stone axe.
