“Try and walk a little, darling,” said the mother, putting the child down.
But the little foot gave way and the child could not walk a step.
“I am so tired, mammy,” she laid, sitting down and beginning to cry.
But the prettiest little flowers, which looked like rose-coloured bells and smelt of sweet almonds, grew all over the spot where she was sitting. She smiled when she saw them, for she had never seen anything half as lovely, and her smile strengthened the heart of the mother so that she could continue her walk with the child in her arms.
Now they had arrived at the first gate. They passed through it and carefully re-fastened the latch.
All of a sudden they heard a noise like a loud neighing; a horse galloped towards them, blocked the path and neighed again; its neighing was answered on the right and the left and from all sides of the wood; the ground trembled, the branches of the trees cracked, and the stones were scattered in all directions by the approaching hoofs. In less than no time the poor, frightened travellers were surrounded on all sides by a herd of savage horses.
The child hid her face on her mother’s shoulder, and her little heart ticked with fear like a watch.
“I am so frightened!” she whispered.
“Oh! Father in Heaven, help us!” prayed the mother.
At the same moment a blackbird, sitting on a fir tree, began to sing; the horses scudded away as fast as they could, and there was once more silence in the wood.