The peasant youth began his climb up the mountain of ice, but each day for a month he only went one step ahead, for while he sometimes went far up, each time he would slip back.
And all this time the poor little cow was growing thinner and thinner, for she would not eat the food that was put before her.
One day when the peasant youth was about discouraged and thought he would have to give up trying for the pear, he felt the ice under him suddenly grow soft and his feet seemed to stick and not slip any more.
To his surprise, when he looked at his feet he saw a little fairy standing on each foot and touching them with her wand.
Up he went swiftly now, and soon was at a place on the mountain where he could touch the magic tree, and there the little fairies told him they were powerless to help him further.
“We can only tell you that if you can get from the three-headed troll the belt he wears you can get the pear, but we fairies cannot throw a spell over trolls,” they told him.
When the fairies disappeared the peasant felt more discouraged than before, for there he was in danger of slipping, and before him was the dreadful tree.
But while he stood thinking the tree opened and out came the troll, leaving the tree wide open behind him.
He did not look up or down, to right or left, but walked down the mountain, and the youth, sitting flat upon the ice, slid into the open tree.
Down, down he went! And then suddenly he found himself in a big room, in one corner of which was a huge bed, in another a big stove, in another a big chair and table, and in the fourth corner stood a large sword so tall that the peasant could easily hide behind it.