ast,
quite early, the wife crept out, and stealing to the hut, killed the
bird, and brought him home to her husband.

Just as she was going to cook it her two brothers came in. They cried
out in horror at the sight, and, rushing out of the hut, declared they
would never see her any more. And the poor girl, with a heavy heart,
took the body of the redbreast up to her husband.

But directly she entered the room the man told her that he felt a
great deal better, and that he would rather have a piece of bear's
flesh, well boiled, than any bird, however tender. His wife felt very
miserable to think that their beloved redbreast had been sacrificed
for nothing, and begged him to try a little bit.

'You felt so sure that it would do you good before,' said she, 'that I
can't help thinking it would quite cure you now.' But the man only
flew into a rage, and flung the bird out of the window. Then he got up
and went out.

Now all this while the ball had been rolling, rolling, rolling to the
old grandmother's hut on the other side of the world, and directly it
rolled into her hut she knew that her grandson must be dead. Without
wasting any time she took a fox skin and tied it round her forehead,
and fastened another round her waist, as witches always do when they
leave their own homes. When she was ready she said to the ball: 'Go
back the way you came, and lead me to my grandson.' And the ball
started with the old woman following.

It was a long journey, even for a witch, but, like other things, it
ended at last; and the old woman stood before the platform of stakes,
where the body of Ball-Carrier lay.

'Wake up, my grandson, it is time to go home,' the witch said. And
Ball-Carrier stepped down off the platform, and brought his club and
bow and arrows out of the hut, and set out, for the other side of the
world, behind the old woman.

When they reached the hut where Ball-Carrier had fasted so many years
ago, the old woman spoke for the first time since they had started on
their way.

'My grandson, did you ever manage to get that gold from the Bad One?'

'Yes, grandmother, I got it.'

'Where is it?' she asked.

'Here, in my left arm-pit,' answered he.

So she picked up a knife and scraped away all the gold which had stuck
to his skin, and which had been sticking there ever since he first
stole it. After she had finished she asked again:

'My grandson, did you manage to get that bridge from the Bad One?'

'Yes, gran