The prince wrote down the answers to his questions, took a friendly leave of Lucky Luck, and set off for home.
When he reached the stream it asked if he brought it any good news. ‘When I get across I will tell you,’ said he. So the stream parted; he walked through and on to the highest part of the bank. He stopped and shouted out:
‘Listen, oh stream! Lucky Luck says you will never have any living creature in your waters until someone is drowned in you.’
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the stream swelled and overflowed till it reached the rock up which he had climbed, and dashed so far up it that the spray flew over him. But he clung on tight, and after failing to reach him three times the stream returned to its proper course. Then the prince climbed down, dried himself in the sun, and set out on his march home.
He spent the night once more at the mill and gave the miller his answer, and by-and-by he told the three sisters not to throw out all their sweepings in the face of the sun.
The prince had hardly arrived at home when some thieves tried to ford the stream with a fine horse they had stolen. When they were half-way across, the stream rose so suddenly that it swept them all away. From that time it became the best fishing stream in the country-side.
The miller, too, began to give alms and became a very good man, and in time grew so rich that he hardly knew how much he had.
And the three sisters, now that they no longer insulted the sun, had each a wooer within a week.
When the prince got home he found that his wife had just got a fine little boy. He did not lose a moment in pricking the baby’s finger till the blood ran, and he brushed it on the wrists of the stone figure, which shuddered all over and split with a loud noise in seven parts and there was the faithful servant alive and well.
