"Go to the brook first: you cannot cross it until you get to it. When you reach it, a bridge will grow across it."
"And I cannot see any path in the woods, across the meadow, at the foot of the mountain."
"If no path opens before you in those woods, my fine young gentleman, say that the fairies have bewitched it."
Rick dared ask no more questions, and so he walked on towards the brook. When he reached it, sure enough, there was a foot-path across it, which looked like soft green moss, but was formed by an old tree-trunk overgrown with lichens. Rick ventured upon it very cautiously, but he found it firm; and, when he came to the woods, quite a broad path opened directly before him.
As he entered the path, he ventured to look back. The bridge over the brook had disappeared, but there stood the fairy, where he had left her; and, as he looked back, she called out with a laugh,—
"Ten to one, you'll come across the old man of the mountains with a big whip in his hand; but tell him that Zenia is near, and he will not touch a hair of your head."
Rick was now in great distress. The stern fairy was behind him, and, possibly, a man of the mountains before him. The best he could do, however, was to keep on towards the castle. Fearful as he was, he was consoled to find the path opening steadily before him up the mountain. It at length led him out upon a rocky spur, and here a narrow foot-path began to trace a winding line up and around ragged precipices. Without this path, he could never have made his way among the many ledges about him.
After toiling up this rocky ascent, very fearful regarding "the old man of the mountains," and hoping he would be away from home that afternoon, Rick at length stood upon the summit, and, still following the little winding path that seemed to creep along just before his feet, came suddenly upon the brink of a great precipice. Down, down, hundreds of feet below him, lay the river-road, and, yes, the castle itself: he could see its tower and ivied sides. And here was he on a rocky height that went sheer down a dizzy wall of ragged bowlders and ledges, to rough, rocky hills below.
Just as a dreadful conviction came upon him that he should never see his mother and Nanette again, but should die in sight of his home, a great figure arose close before him over the brink of the precipice. Two brilliant circles surrounded the giant form, and a yellow halo encircled his head. Bright-colored rays shot out from the figure on all sides. In his hand, the strange, airy giant held a long, shining whip; and he was moving towards Rick in an ominous manner.
The poor boy was so terrified, that, although he tried to shout, he only began to sob frantically.