‘I came to ask for a lump of burning coal, to light my fire with.’ ‘Do you want a big lump or a little lump?’ ‘Why, what difference does it make?’ said she. ‘If you have a big lump you must give me a strip of your skin from your ear to your thumb, and if you have a little lump, you must give me a strip from your ear to your little finger.’ Udea, who thought that one sounded as bad as the other, said she would take the big lump, and when the man-eater had cut the skin, she went home again. And as she hastened on a raven beheld the blood on the ground, and plastered it with earth, and stayed by her till she reached the castle. And as she entered the door he flew past, and she shrieked from fright, for up to that moment she had not seen him. In her terror she called after him. ‘May you get the same start as you have given me!’ ‘Why should you wish me harm,’ asked the raven pausing in his flight, ‘when I have done you a service?’ ‘What service have you done me?’ said she. ‘Oh, you shall soon see,’ replied the raven, and with his bill he scraped away all the earth he had smeared over the blood and then flew away. In the night the man-eater got up, and followed the blood till he came to Udea’s castle. He entered through the gate which she had left open, and went on till he reached the inside of the house. But here he was stopped by the seven doors, six of wood and one of iron, and all fast locked. And he called through them ‘Oh Udea, what did you see your grandfather doing?’ ‘I saw him spread silk under him, and silk over him, and lay himself down in a four-post bed.’ When he heard that, the man-eater broke in one door, and laughed and went away. And the second night he came back, and asked her again what she had seen her grandfather doing, and she answered him as before, and he broke in another door, and laughed and went away, and so each night till he reached the seventh door. Then the maiden wrote a letter to her brothers, and bound it round the neck of a pigeon, and said to it, ‘Oh, thou pigeon that served my father and my grandfather, carry this letter to my brothers, and come back at once.’ And the pigeon flew away. It flew and it flew and it flew till it found the brothers. The eldest unfastened the letter from the pigeon’s neck, and read what his sister had written: ‘I am in a great strait, my brothers. If you do not rescue me to-night, to-morrow I shall be no longer living, for the man-eater has broken open six doors, and only the iron door is left. So haste, haste, post haste.’ ‘Quick, quick! my brothers,’ cried he. ‘What is the matter?’ asked they. ‘If we cannot reach our sister to-night, to-morrow she will be the prey of the man-eater.’ And without more words they sprang on their horses, and rode like the wind.