the bay.

"Why should we fare badly?"

"We are now entering the domain of Holy Wednesday. So long as we ride
through it, we shall experience nothing but cold, cold, cold. Fires
are kept burning all along the roadside, and I'm afraid you will go
and warm yourself."

"Why shouldn't I warm myself?"

"You'll fare badly if you do," said the bay anxiously.

"Forward," said Petru fearlessly, "I will be cold, too, if necessary."

The further Petru entered Holy Wednesday's kingdom the more he felt
that it was no pleasant region. At every step the air grew colder and
frostier, there was so much cold and ice that it froze even the marrow
in one's bones. But Petru was no coward, he proved as brave in
enduring hardship as he had been in battle. Along the roadside one
fire after another was burning, and beside these fires were gathered
groups of people who called to him in the sweetest, most enticing
words. Petru's very breath froze, yet he did not yield, but ordered
the bay to go on at a walk. How long our hero battled with the cold
and frost can not be told, for every body knows that Holy Wednesday's
kingdom is longer than one stone's throw or even two. The cold there
is not moderate, but bitter, so bitter that even the rocks are split
by the frost. That's the way it is in that country. But Petru had not
grown up without some hardships, so he only ground his teeth, though
he was so benumbed that he couldn't even wink.

They reached Holy Wednesday. Petru dismounted, flung the bridle over
the bay's head, and entered the house.

"Good morning, mother."

"Thank you, my frozen hero!"

Petru laughed, but made no answer.

"You have proved yourself a brave fellow," said Holy Wednesday,
patting him on the shoulder. "Now I'll give you the reward." She went
to an iron chest, opened it, and took out a little box. "See," she
said, "this casket has been destined from the earliest times for the
person who penetrated the realm of the cold. Take it and guard it
carefully, for it may be of great service to you. When you open it,
you will receive news from whatever place you desire and truthful
tidings from your native land."

Petru thanked her for her words and her gift, mounted his horse, and
rode on. After he was a good stone's throw away, he opened the magic
box. "What do you command?" asked something inside.

"Give me news of my father," replied Petru rather timidly.

"He is sitting in the council chamber with the elders of the