" The wife said, "Fool, that
is not thy little cat; that is the morning sun which is shining on the
chimneys." Haensel, however, had not been looking back at the cat, but
had been constantly throwing one of the white pebble-stones out of his
pocket on the road.
When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said, "Now,
children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you may not
be cold." Haensel and Grethel gathered brushwood together, as high
as a little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the flames were
burning very high the woman said, "Now, children, lay yourselves down
by the fire and rest and we will go into the forest and cut some wood.
When we have done, we will come back and fetch you away."
Haensel and Grethel sat by the fire, and, when noon came, each ate a
little piece of bread, but, as they heard the strokes of the wood-axe,
they believed that their father was near. It was, however, not the
axe; it was a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree which
the wind was blowing backward and forward; and, as they had been
sitting such a long time, their eyes shut with fatigue and they
fell fast asleep. When at last they awoke it was already dark night.
Grethel began to cry and said, "How are we to get out of the forest
now?" But Haensel comforted her and said, "Just wait a little, until
the moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way.
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