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 making as it struck a musical tinkle, and the first bird escaped still holding in its bill a single hair.

In his excitement over the struggle, Yirik overflowed the goblet.

“Ha! Ha!” said the king. “See what you’ve done! You forfeit your head! However, I’ll suspend sentence on condition that you find this golden-haired maiden and bring her to me for a wife.”

Poor Yirik didn’t know who the maiden was nor where she lived. But what could he say? If he wanted to keep his head, he must undertake the quest. So he saddled his horse and started off at random.

His road led him through a forest. Here he came upon a bush under which some shepherds had kindled a fire. Sparks were falling on an anthill nearby and the ants in great excitement were running hither and thither with their eggs.

“Yirik!” they cried. “Help! Help, or we shall all be burned to death, we and our young ones in the eggs!”

Yirik instantly dismounted, cut down the burning bush, and put out the fire.

“Thank you, Yirik, thank you!” the ants said. “Your kindness to us this day will not go unrewarded. [sic]