"You can tell them," roared Shamruck, "that I said you were an impertinent little fool, and that I hoped you'd break your neck."
"There's nothing interesting in that," said the dwarf. "Can't you tell me what sort of sensations you have? Did any of your family ever—"
At this moment one of the stilts of the dwarf bent under him, the other flew forward, and the little fellow went sprawling on the ice.
Shamruck had not time to see what happened next. He was now moving very swiftly, and as he passed the struggling dwarf he tumbled over on his back, and so went on and on until he landed safely in the pile of straw at the bottom of the hill.
The giant floundered to his feet, and looked about him in dismay. He was in an enormous pit, three sides of which arose perpendicularly high above his head, while in front of him stretched upward the smooth and glittering ice hill. He knew it would be absurd for him to try to ascend this, and the steep walls were covered and glazed with ice, and impossible to climb.
He was greatly wondering how there happened to be such a place, how he happened to slide into it, and how he should ever get out of it, when he heard a little voice not far from his head. Turning around, he saw the fairy standing upon a slight projection on the wall.
"Are you hurt?" she said.
"No, I am not hurt," he roared; "but what is the meaning of this? Had you a hand in it?"
"Yes," she said; "I invented this pit and the hill, but it was the ice imps who carried out my plans."
"And what did you plan it for, you wicked little creature?" cried. Shamruck.