is me, my son! The time has come when we must part,' and with
a heavy heart he told the Prince what had happened at the time of his
birth.

'Don't worry or distress yourself, dear father,' answered Prince Milan.
'Things are never as bad as they look. Only give me a horse for my
journey, and I wager you'll soon see me back again.'

The King gave him a beautiful charger, with golden stirrups, and a
sword. The Queen hung a little cross round his neck, and after much
weeping and lamentation the Prince bade them all farewell and set forth
on his journey.

He rode straight on for two days, and on the third he came to a lake as
smooth as glass and as clear as crystal. Not a breath of wind moved, not
a leaf stirred, all was silent as the grave, only on the still bosom of
the lake thirty ducks, with brilliant plumage, swam about in the water.
Not far from the shore Prince Milan noticed thirty little white garments
lying on the grass, and dismounting from his horse, he crept down under
the high bulrushes, took one of the garments and hid himself with it
behind the bushes which grew round the lake. The ducks swam about all
over the place, dived down into the depths and rose again and glided
through the waves. At last, tired of disporting themselves, they swam
to the shore, and twenty-nine of them put on their little white garments
and instantly turned into so many beautiful maidens. Then they finished
dressing and disappeared. Only the thirtieth little duck couldn't
come to the land; it swam about close to the shore, and, giving out a
piercing cry, it stretched its neck up timidly, gazed wildly around, and
then dived under again. Prince Milan's heart was so moved with pity for
the poor little creature that he came out from behind the bulrushes, to
see if he could be of any help. As soon as the duck perceived him, it
cried in a human voice, 'Oh, dear Prince Milan, for the love of Heaven
give me back my garment, and I will be so grateful to you.' The Prince
lay the little garment on the bank beside her, and stepped back into the
bushes. In a few seconds a beautiful girl in a white robe stood before
him, so fair and sweet and young that no pen could describe her. She
gave the Prince her hand and spoke.

'Many thanks, Prince Milan, for your courtesy. I am the daughter of a
wicked magician, and my name is Hyacinthia. My father has thirty young
daughters, and is a mighty ruler in the underworld, with many castles
and great riches.