The mare sped on like a swift falcon, and thus flew across the bridge. After a short time she struck the ground, and said: “Open thy eyes! What dost thou see?”
“I see,” replied Mirko, “a summitless, high glass mountain, as steep as the side of a house.”
“We must cross that very mountain, my master.”
“That, I think, is impossible,” said Mirko.
“Fear not,” said the steed; “for I have on my feet the shoes which thy father fastened to me with diamond nails, seven hundred years ago. Only shut thy eyes and hold to me firmly.”
Now the steed sprang up, and in an instant was on the glass mountain. She stamped, and said, “Open thy eyes! What dost thou see?”
“I see,” said Mirko, “when I look behind, something dark, as large as a great plate.”
“Oh, my master, that is the round of the earth. But what dost thou see before thee?”
“I see a narrow glass road, rising like a half circle. On both sides of it is emptiness of bottomless depth.”
“My dear master, we must pass over that road; but the passage is so delicate that if one of my feet slip the least bit to one side or the other, there is an end to our lives. But trust thyself to me, and close thy eyes. Hold fast, I will manage.”