hunger was forgotten, and he hurried on to the nearest cottage, to
find out what was the matter, and if he could give any help. The
people listened to his questions, and shaking their heads sorrowfully,
told him that all help was vain. "Every year," said they, "the
mountain spirit claims a victim. The time has come, and this very
night will he devour our loveliest maiden. This is the cause of the
wailing and lamentation." And when the young warrior, filled with
wonder, inquired further, they told him that at sunset the victim
would be put into a sort of cage, carried to that very ruined temple
where he had passed the night, and there left alone. In the morning
she would have vanished. So it was each year, and so it would be now;
there was no help for it. As he listened, the young warrior was filled
with an earnest desire to deliver the maiden. And, the mention of the
ruined shrine having brought back to his mind the adventure of the
night before, he asked the people whether they had ever heard the name
of Schippeitaro, and who and what he was. "Schippeitaro is a strong
and beautiful dog," was the reply; "he belongs to the head man of our
Prince who lives only a little way from here. We often see him
following his master; he is a fine, brave fellow." The young knight
did not stop to ask more questions, but hurried off to Schippeitaro's
master and begged him to lend his dog for one night. At first the man
was unwilling, but at length agreed to lend Schippeitaro on condition
that he should be brought back the next day. Overjoyed, the young
warrior led the dog away.

Next he went to see the parents of the unhappy maiden, and told them
to keep her in the house and watch her carefully until his return. He
then placed the dog Schippeitaro in the cage which had been prepared
for the maiden; and, with the help of some of the young men of the
village, carried it to the ruined temple, and there set it down. The
young men refused to stay one moment on that haunted spot, but hurried
down the mountain as if the whole troop of hobgoblins had been at
their heels. The young warrior, with no companion but the dog,
remained to see what would happen. At midnight, when the full moon was
high in the heaven, and shed her light over the mountain, came the
phantom cats once more. This time they had in their midst a huge black
tom-cat, fiercer and more terrible than all the rest, which the young
warrior had no difficulty in knowing as the fright