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But the woman only shook her head. ‘No, I know nothing of her,’ said she.

The young man turned to leave the hut, but the old woman stopped him, and, giving him a letter, begged him to carry it to her next eldest sister, saying: ‘If you should get tired on the way, take out the letter and rustle the paper.’

This advice surprised the young man a good deal, as he did not see how it could help him; but he did not answer, and went down the road without knowing where he was going. At length he grew so tired he could walk no more; then he remembered what the old woman had said. After he had rustled the leaves only once all fatigue disappeared, and he strode over the grass till he came to another little turf hut.

‘Let me in, I pray you, dear mother,’ cried he. And the door opened in front of him. ‘Your sister has sent you this letter,’ he said, and added quickly: ‘O mother! can you tell me anything of the Sister of the Sun?’

‘No, I know nothing of her,’ answered she. But as he turned hopelessly away, she stopped him.

‘If you happen to pass my eldest sister’s house, will you give her this letter?’ said she. ‘And if you should get tired on the road, just take it out of your pocket and rustle the paper.’

So the young man put the letter in his pocket, and walked all day over the hills till he reached a little turf hut, exactly like the other two.

‘Let me in, I pray you, dear mother,’ cried he. And as he entered he added: ‘Here is a letter from your sister and–can you tell me anything of the Sister of the Sun?’

‘Yes, I can,’ answered the old woman. ‘She lives in the castle on the Banka. Her father lost a battle only a few days ago because you had stolen his sword from him, and the Sister of the Sun herself is almost dead of grief. But, when you see her, stick a pin into the palm of her hand, and suck the drops of blood that flow. Then she will grow calmer, and will know you again. Only, beware; for before you reach the castle on the Banka fearful things will happen.’

He thanked the old woman with tears of gladness for the good news she had given him, and continued his journey. But he had not gone very far when, at a turn of the road, he met with two brothers, who were quarrelling over a piece of cloth.

‘My good men, what are you fighting about?’ said he. ‘That cloth does not look worth much!’

‘Oh, it is ragged enough,’ answered they, ‘but it was left us by our father, and if any man wraps it round him no one can see him; and we each want it for our own.’

‘Let me put it round me for a moment,’ said the youth, ‘and then I will tell you whose it ought to be!’

The brothers were pleased with this idea, and gave him the stuff; but the moment he had thrown it over his shoulder he disappeared as completely as if he had never been there at all.

Meanwhile the young man walked briskly along, till he came up with two other men, who were disputing over a table-cloth.

‘What is the matter?’ asked he, stopping in front of them.

‘If this cloth is spread on a table,’ answered they, ‘the table is instantly covered with the most delicious food; and we each want to have it.’

‘Let me try the table-cloth,’ said the youth, ‘and I will tell you whose it ought to be.’

The two men were quite pleased with this idea, and handed him the cloth. He then hastily threw the first piece of stuff round his shoulders and vanished from sight, leaving the two men grieving over their own folly.