ightened at last.

'Beware, and never stand still,' called the brown horse, and more he
could not say, for the water was choking him.

The battle began anew. For a day and a night Petru fought on, without
knowing at whom or what he struck. At dawn on the second, he felt that
both his feet were lame.

'Now I am done for,' thought he, and his blows fell thicker and harder
in his desperation. And the sun came out and the water disappeared,
without his knowing how or when.

'Take breath,' said the horse, 'for you have no time to lose. The Welwa
will return in a moment.'

Petru made no reply, only wondered how, exhausted as he was, he should
ever be able to carry on the fight. But he settled himself in his
saddle, grasped his sword, and waited.

And then something came to him--WHAT I cannot tell you. Perhaps, in his
dreams, a man may see a creature which has what it has not got, and has
not got what it has. At least, that was what the Welwa seemed like to
Petru. She flew with her feet, and walked with her wings; her head was
in her back, and her tail was on top of her body; her eyes were in her
neck, and her neck in her forehead, and how to describe her further I do
not know.

Petru felt for a moment as if he was wrapped in a garment of fear; then
he shook himself and took heart, and fought as he had never yet fought
before.

As the day wore on, his strength began to fail, and when darkness fell
he could hardly keep his eyes open. By midnight he knew he was no longer
on his horse, but standing on the ground, though he could not have
told how he got there. When the grey light of morning came, he was past
standing on his feet, but fought now upon his knees.

'Make one more struggle; it is nearly over now,' said the horse, seeing
that Petru's strength was waning fast.

Petru wiped the sweat from his brow with his gauntlet, and with a
desperate effort rose to his feet.

'Strike the Welwa on the mouth with the bridle,' said the horse, and
Petru did it.

The Welwa uttered a neigh so loud that Petru thought he would be deaf
for life, and then, though she too was nearly spent, flung herself upon
her enemy; but Petru was on the watch and threw the bridle over her
head, as she rushed on, so that when the day broke there were three
horses trotting beside him.

'May your wife be the most beautiful of women,' said the Welwa, 'for
you have delivered me from my enchantment.' So the four horses galloped
fast, and by nightf