he Prince, with the help of his ring, had
had a most successful journey, and no evil had befallen him.

At the end of three months he came to the entrance of a huge forest,
which looked as if it had never been trodden by human foot before, and
which seemed to stretch out indefinitely. The Prince was about to
enter the wood by a little path he had discovered, when he heard a
voice shouting to him: 'Hold, youth! Whither are you going?'

Iwanich turned round, and saw a tall, gaunt-looking man, clad in
miserable rags, leaning on a crooked staff and seated at the foot of
an oak tree, which was so much the same colour as himself that it was
little wonder the Prince had ridden past the tree without noticing
him.

'Where else should I be going,' he said, 'than through the wood?'

'Through the wood?' said the old man in amazement. 'It's easily seen
that you have heard nothing of this forest, that you rush so blindly
to meet your doom. Well, listen to me before you ride any further; let
me tell you that this wood hides in its depths a countless number of
the fiercest tigers, hyenas, wolves, bears, and snakes, and all sorts
of other monsters. If I were to cut you and your horse up into tiny
morsels and throw them to the beasts, there wouldn't be one bit for
each hundred of them. Take my advice, therefore, and if you wish to
save your life follow some other path.'

The Prince was rather taken aback by the old man's words, and
considered for a minute what he should do; then looking at his ring,
and perceiving that it sparkled as brightly as ever, he called out:
'If this wood held even more terrible things than it does, I cannot
help myself, for I must go through it.'

Here he spurred his horse and rode on; but the old beggar screamed so
loudly after him that the Prince turned round and rode back to the oak
tree.

'I am really sorry for you,' said the beggar, 'but if you are quite
determined to brave the dangers of the forest, let me at least give
you a piece of advice which will help you against these monsters.'

'Take this bagful of bread-crumbs and this live hare. I will make you
a present of them both, as I am anxious to save your life; but you
must leave your horse behind you, for it would stumble over the fallen
trees or get entangled in the briers and thorns. When you have gone
about a hundred yards into the wood the wild beasts will surround you.
Then you must instantly seize your bag, and scatter the bread-crumbs
a