have been no wonder if he was afraid! A
dragon is a dragon!

The prince now reached a river. But let nobody suppose it was an
ordinary stream; milk flowed instead of water, not over sand and
gravel, but over gems and pearls, and it ran neither slowly nor
quickly, but both slowly and quickly at the same time, like the days
of happy mortals. This was the river that flowed around the palace
without ever stopping or moving. On the bank, each one leap from the
other, lions were sleeping. And such lions! They had golden hair, and
teeth and claws tipped with iron. These were the guardians of the
other bank of the river, where there was a beautiful garden, as
beautiful as gardens can only be in the Fairy Aurora's realm. On the
shore grew the fairest flowers and upon these blossoms fairies, each
more beautiful and bewitching than the others, slept sweetly side by
side. Petru did not even dare to glance that way. The prince now asked
himself how he was to get across the stream. It was broad and deep and
had only one bridge, and this bridge, too, was unlike any other in the
world. On each bank was a bridge-head, each guarded by four sleeping
lions! But as to the bridge--no human soul could cross it. One saw it
with the eyes, but felt nothing but empty air if he tried to set foot
on it. Who knows of what material it was made! Perhaps a little cloud.

Enough, Petru remained on the river bank. Cross? That he could not do.
Swim over it? That was not to be thought of! What should he do? Well,
we needn't worry about Petru, he isn't easily frightened. He turned
and went back to the giant. "We'll run the risk," he thought, "we'll
talk to each other. Wake up, my brave fellow," he shouted, pulling the
monster by the sleeve of his coat. When the giant awoke he stretched
out his hand toward Petru--just as we do when we try to catch a fly.
Petru blew upon the flute, and the giant fell back to the ground. So
Petru waked him and put him to sleep again, three times in
succession,--that is, he waked him three times and made him go to
sleep three times. When this was to be done for the fourth time, Petru
unfastened his cravat, tied the giant's two little fingers together
with it, then drew his sword, and, tapping the monster on the breast,
cried, "Wake up, my brave fellow!"

When the giant saw what a sorry jest had been played upon him, he said
to Petru: "Hark ye, this is no fair fight! Fight honestly, if you are
a hero!"

"Wait a while, I wan