I was on my rambling, I was
benighted and could find no lodging. At length I came to an old kiln,
and being much fatigued I went up and lay on the ribs. I had not been
long there when I saw three witches coming in with three bags of gold.
Each put their bags of gold under their heads, as if to sleep. I heard
one of them say to the other that if the Black Thief came on them while
they slept, he would not leave them a penny. I found by their discourse
that everybody had got my name into their mouth, though I kept silent as
death during their discourse. At length they fell fast asleep, and then
I stole softly down, and seeing some turf convenient, I placed one
under each of their heads, and off I went, with their gold, as fast as I
could.
'I had not gone far,' continued the Thief of Sloan, 'until I saw a
grey-hound, a hare, and a hawk in pursuit of me, and began to think it
must be the witches that had taken the shapes in order that I might not
escape them unseen either by land or water. Seeing they did not appear
in any formidable shape, I was more than once resolved to attack them,
thinking that with my broad sword I could easily destroy them. But
considering again that it was perhaps still in their power to become
alive again, I gave over the attempt and climbed with difficulty up
a tree, bringing my sword in my hand and all the gold along with me.
However, when they came to the tree they found what I had done, and
making further use of their hellish art, one of them was changed into a
smith's anvil and another into a piece of iron, of which the third soon
made a hatchet. Having the hatchet made, she fell to cutting down the
tree, and in the course of an hour it began to shake with me. At length
it began to bend, and I found that one or two blows at the most would
put it down. I then began to think that my death was inevitable,
considering that those who were capable of doing so much would soon end
my life; but just as she had the stroke drawn that would terminate my
fate, the cock crew, and the witches disappeared, having resumed their
natural shapes for fear of being known, and I got safe off with my bags
of gold.
'Now, sir,' says he to the Knight of the Glen, 'if that be not as great
an adventure as ever you heard, to be within one blow of a hatchet of
my end, and that blow even drawn, and after all to escape, I leave it to
yourself.'
'Well, I cannot say but it is very extraordinary,' says the Knight of
the Gl
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