That night I left. The Princess wept on my shoulder, but I laughed gayly, and ridiculed her fears.
“Don’t you feel sorry,” she said, “to leave me?”
“Come, dearest,” I said, “you mustn’t begrudge me a little adventure. Don’t be selfish.”
She straightened herself up. “Yes,” she said, “I think you had better go.”
I did not understand this sudden change, but I kissed her and said:
“Did you pack my white leather suit?”
“Yes, it is in the saddlebag, and extra shoes. Be sure to change if you get your feet wet.”
I kissed my hand to her from the saddle and gave my horse the rein. I was off upon my adventure.
At the end of two days I came to the village which lies at the foot of Thunder Mountain. It was a bright day, and the sun was hot. As I trotted briskly through the village street, a child of three or four years ran from the door of a house directly to the front of my horse and under its feet; and in an instant the horse had knocked him down and trampled over his body. I looked round, and heard the child cry out in pain; but I was intent on what lay before me, and too happy in my new career to be bothered with trifles, and I sped on rapidly, and was soon well up the mountainside.
I came to a place among the rocks and bushes where there was no longer any trail, and there I tied my horse and left him. I kept in view, as I climbed higher and higher, a great, gray rock, shaped like a dome and as big as a house, which projected from the very top of the mountain. Under this rock, as I knew, lay the cave of the Man of Ice.