The Treasure Valley was one mass of ruin and desolation. “A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck!” said Schwartz. And when Schwartz stood by the brink of the Golden River, its waves were black, like thunder clouds, but their foam was like fire; and the roar of the waters below, and the thunder above, met, as he cast the flask into the stream. “I’m a poor old man, sir,” the little gentleman began very modestly, “and I saw your fire through the window, and begged shelter for a quarter of an hour.”, “Have the goodness to walk out again, then,” said Schwartz. THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER is a universal short story by John Ruskin (translated to English, Spanish, and Portuguese) written as a fairy tale.
Then Gluck took some bread in his basket, and the bottle of water, and set off very early for the mountains. The younger brother is good-natured and invites a strange man into the house one. “Confound the King and his gold too,” said Gluck; and he opened the flask, and poured all the water into the dog’s mouth. And Gluck stopped and looked at it and then at the Golden River, not five hundred yards above him; and he thought of the dwarf’s words, “that no one could succeed, except in his first attempt”; and he tried to pass the dog, but it whined piteously, and Gluck stopped again. And, as he was hanging the flask to his belt again, he saw a little dog lying on the rocks, gasping for breath—just as Hans had seen it on the day of his ascent. Walk!”, “I’m very, very hungry, sir; couldn’t you spare me a bit of bread before I go?”, “Bread indeed!” said Schwartz; “do you suppose we’ve nothing to do with our bread but to give it to such red-nosed fellows as you?”, “Why don’t you sell your feather?” said Hans, sneeringly. So no rain fell in the valley from one year’s end to another. How to get the holy water was the question. “I am all right, thank you,” said the old gentleman rather gruffly. The sun was sinking, but its descent seemed to bring no coolness; the leaden weight of the dead air pressed upon his brow and heart, but the goal was near. “What’s that?” cried Schwartz, starting up in his bed. “Cast these into the river,” he said, “and descend on the other side of the mountains into the Treasure Valley. And as Gluck gazed, fresh grass sprang beside the new streams, and creeping plants grew, and climbed among this moistening soil. The King of the Golden River is a folk tale about three brothers. Like his brother, he was much surprised at the sight of the glacier, and had great difficulty in crossing it, even after leaving his basket behind him.
But Gluck only begged he would go and see what had become of Hans. Hans eyed it deliberately, drank, and passed on. So, after a month or two, Gluck grew tired, and made up his mind to go and try his fortune with the Golden River. Gluck determined to say something at all events. Remember the prison bars, my boy. “Wouldn’t it, sir?” said Gluck, very mildly and submissively indeed. “Good morning, brother,” said Hans; “have you any message for the King of the Golden River?”. And, when he had gone a few yards farther, he looked back; but the figure was not there. No, it was certainly in the house. He entered on it with the boldness of a practised mountaineer; yet he thought he had never traversed so strange or so dangerous a glacier in his life. When it came to the mug’s turn to be made into spoons, it half broke poor little Gluck’s heart: but the brothers only laughed at him, tossed the mug into the melting-pot, and staggered out to the ale-house: leaving him, as usual, to pour the gold into bars, when it was all ready. “Suppose we turn goldsmiths?” said Schwartz to Hans, as they entered the large city. Treasure Valley was owned by three brothers, Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. In a secluded and mountainous part of Stiria there was, in old time, a valley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility. I want more! What do you want, sir?”, “Want?” said the old gentleman, petulantly, “I want fire, and shelter; and there’s your great fire there blazing, crackling, and dancing on the walls, with nobody to feel it Let me in, I say; I only want to warm myself.”.
Dawn came at last and the two brothers looked out of Gluck’s little window in the morning.
No; it wasn’t the wind: there it came again very hard, and what was particularly astounding, the knocker seemed to be in a hurry, and not to be in the least afraid of the consequences. “I’ve learned my lesson. They asked what they liked, and got it, except from the poor, who could only beg, and several of whom were starved at their very door, without the slightest regard or notice.
But the old man drank a great deal, and gave him back the bottle two-thirds empty. “It must be the wind,” said Gluck; “nobody else would venture to knock double knocks at our door.”.
The shape you saw me in was owing to the malice of a stronger king, from whose enchantments you have this instant freed me. If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to his brothers, it was twenty times worse for him, who was neither so strong nor so practised on the mountains. They all descended on the other side of the mountains, and wound away through broad plains and by populous cities. Lit2Go Edition. “It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir; look at my gray hairs.” They hung down to his shoulders, as I told you before.
When he got up in the morning there was no bread in the house, nor any money; so Gluck went and hired himself to another goldsmith, and he worked so hard, and so neatly, and so long every day, that he soon got money enough together to pay his brother’s fine, and he went and gave it all to Schwartz, and Schwartz got out of prison. Level lines of dewy mist lay stretched along the valley, out of which rose the massy mountains—their lower cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly distinguishable from the floating vapour, but gradually ascending till they caught the sunlight, which ran in sharp touches of ruddy colour along the angular crags, and pierced, in long level rays, through their fringes of spear-like pine. But I will warn you: this gift will not make you happy.”. The waters closed over his cry.
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