“The King of the Cats you are indeed. And it was you who let the smoke out of the top of my little house by destroying the nest the cross crane had built on it.”
“It was I who did that.”
“Welcome to you then, King of the Cats. And what service can the Hag of the Ashes do for you in return?”
“I would go to where the Eagle-Emperor is. You must show me the way.”
“By my cloak I will do that. The Eagle-Emperor lives on the top of the Hill of Horns.”
“And how can I get to the top of the Hill of Horns?”
“I don’t know how you can get there at all. All over the Hill is bare starvation. No four-footed thing can reach the top—no four-footed thing, I mean, but my goat that’s tied to the hawthorn bush outside.”
“I will ride on the back of your goat to the top of the Hill of Horns.”
“No, no, good King of the Cats. I have only my goat for company and how could I bear to be parted from him?”
“Lend me your goat, and when I come back from the Hill of Horns I will plate his horns with gold and shoe his hooves with silver.”