arted gaunt grey beggar
who had given the Prince the bag of bread-crumbs and the hare. Without
recognising Iwanich, he opened the door when he knocked and gave him
shelter for the night.

On the following morning the Prince asked his host if he could get him
any work to do, as he was quite unknown in the neighbourhood, and had
not enough money to take him home.

'My son,' replied the old man, 'all this country round here is
uninhabited; I myself have to wander to distant villages for my
living, and even then I do not very often find enough to satisfy my
hunger. But if you would like to take service with the old witch
Corva, go straight up the little stream which flows below my hut for
about three hours, and you will come to a sand-hill on the left-hand
side; that is where she lives.'

Iwanich thanked the gaunt grey beggar for his information, and went on
his way.

After walking for about three hours the Prince came upon a
dreary-looking grey stone wall; this was the back of the building and
did not attract him; but when he came upon the front of the house he
found it even less inviting, for the old witch had surrounded her
dwelling with a fence of spikes, on every one of which a man's skull
was stuck. In this horrible enclosure stood a small black house, which
had only two grated windows, all covered with cobwebs, and a battered
iron door.

The Prince knocked, and a rasping woman's voice told him to enter.

Iwanich opened the door, and found himself in a smoke-begrimed
kitchen, in the presence of a hideous old woman who was warming her
skinny hands at a fire. The Prince offered to become her servant, and
the old hag told him she was badly in want of one, and he seemed to be
just the person to suit her.

When Iwanich asked what his work, and how much his wages would be, the
witch bade him follow her, and led the way through a narrow damp
passage into a vault, which served as a stable. Here he perceived two
pitch-black horses in a stall.

'You see before you,' said the old woman, 'a mare and her foal; you
have nothing to do but to lead them out to the fields every day, and
to see that neither of them runs away from you. If you look after them
both for a whole year I will give you anything you like to ask; but
if, on the other hand, you let either of the animals escape you, your
last hour is come, and your head shall be stuck on the last spike of
my fence. The other spikes, as you see, are already adorned, and t