and flowers of copper also.

Petru stood and stared as a man does when he sees something that he has
never seen, and of which he has never heard.

Then he rode right into the wood. On each side of the way the rows of
flowers began to praise Petru, and to try and persuade him to pick some
of them and make himself a wreath.

'Take me, for I am lovely, and can give strength to whoever plucks me,'
said one.

'No, take me, for whoever wears me in his hat will be loved by the most
beautiful woman in the world,' pleaded the second; and then one
after another bestirred itself, each more charming than the last, all
promising, in soft sweet voices, wonderful things to Petru, if only he
would pick them.

Petru was not deaf to their persuasion, and was just stooping to pick
one when the horse sprang to one side.

'Why don't you stay still?' asked Petru roughly.

'Do not pick the flowers; it will bring you bad luck; answered the
horse.

'Why should it do that?'

'These flowers are under a curse. Whoever plucks them must fight the
Welwa(1) of the woods.'

(1) A goblin.

'What kind of a goblin is the Welwa?'

'Oh, do leave me in peace! But listen. Look at the flowers as much as
you like, but pick none,' and the horse walked on slowly.

Petru knew by experience that he would do well to attend to the horse's
advice, so he made a great effort and tore his mind away from the
flowers.

But in vain! If a man is fated to be unlucky, unlucky he will be,
whatever he may do!

The flowers went on beseeching him, and his heart grew ever weaker and
weaker.

'What must come will come,' said Petru at length; 'at any rate I shall
see the Welwa of the woods, what she is like, and which way I had best
fight her. If she is ordained to be the cause of my death, well, then
it will be so; but if not I shall conquer her though she were twelve
hundred Welwas,' and once more he stooped down to gather the flowers.

'You have done very wrong,' said the horse sadly. 'But it can't be
helped now. Get yourself ready for battle, for here is the Welwa!'

Hardly had he done speaking, scarcely had Petru twisted his wreath, when
a soft breeze arose on all sides at once. Out of the breeze came a storm
wind, and the storm wind swelled and swelled till everything around
was blotted out in darkness, and darkness covered them as with a thick
cloak, while the earth swayed and shook under their feet.

'Are you afraid?' asked the horse, shaking his man