you will then carry a young one.” George laughed heartily to himself at this conversation, but only silently that the king might not know it. But the king also understood very well what the two horses had been saying to one another, looked round and seeing that George was laughing, inquires: “What art thou laughing at?” “Nothing, your Serene Highness; it was only that something occurred to me,” said George in excuse. But the old king now had him in suspicion, and did not much trust the horses either, faced about, and so home again.
When they rode into the castle the king bade George pour him out a glass of wine. “But with thy head shalt thou answer for it if thou fillest not brimful or over-pourest.” George took the vessel with the wine and pours. At that moment two small birds flew in by the window; one was chasing the other, and the other that took flight had three golden hairs in its beak. “Give me them,” says the one, “they’re mine, indeed they are!” “I won’t, they’re mine! As if I didn’t pick them up!” “As if I wasn’t the one to see how they fell, when the golden-haired maiden combed herself! Give me two, at any rate.” “Not a single one, I tell you.” Here this other little bird hies after him and has caught hold of these golden hairs. After tussling for them in the air, each was left with one golden hair in its beak, and the third fell upon the ground and just rang out like a harp-string. At that moment George looked round at them and over-poured. “Thy life is forfeit to me,” exclaimed the king, “but I wish to treat thee graciously, on condition that thou obtainest for me this golden-haired maiden and bringest her to me as my bride.”
What had George to do? If he wanted to preserve his life he must hie after the maiden, although he didn’t the least know where to look for her. He saddled his horse and rode hither and thither. He rode to a black wood, and here under the wood by the roadside burnt a bush; shepherds had kindled it. Under the bush was an ant-hill; the sparks were falling upon it, and the ants with their little white eggs were running hither and thither. Oh! help, George, help!” they cried piteously; “we are burning, and our young too in their little eggs.” Down from his horse in a minute was George, grasped the bush, and quenched the fire. “When thou shalt have need of us, think of us, and we also will help thee.”
After this he rode through the same wood and came to a tall pine. On the top of the pine was a nest of young ravens, and down on the ground were two young ravens piping and lamenting: