. Very soon they
reached a wood, and saw the friendly glow of a fire.

'What is your name?' asked the stranger, suddenly turning round.

'I am called Hans, the son of Long Hans,' said the peasant.

In front of the fire three men were sitting clothed in white, just as
if it was summer, and for about thirty feet all round winter had been
banished. The moss was dry and the plants green, while the grass seemed
all alive with the hum of bees and cockchafers. But above the noise the
son of Long Hans could hear the whistling of the wind and the crackling
of the branches as they fell beneath the weight of the snow.

'Well! you son of Long Hans, isn't this more comfortable than your
juniper bush?' laughed the stranger, and for answer Hans replied he
could not thank his friend enough for having brought him here, and,
throwing off his sheepskin, rolled it up as a pillow. Then, after a hot
drink which warmed both their hearts, they lay down on the ground. The
stranger talked for a little to the other men in a language Hans did
not understand, and after listening for a short time he once more fell
asleep.

When he awoke, neither wood nor fire was to be seen, and he did not know
where he was. He rubbed his eyes, and began to recall the events of the
night, thinking he must have been dreaming; but for all that, he could
not make out how he came to be in this place.

Suddenly a loud noise struck on his ear, and he felt the earth tremble
beneath his feet. Hans listened for a moment, then resolved to go
towards the place where the sound came from, hoping he might come across
some human being. He found himself at length at the mouth of a rocky
cave in which a fire seemed burning. He entered, and saw a huge forge,
and a crowd of men in front of it, blowing bellows and wielding hammers,
and to each anvil were seven men, and a set of more comical smiths could
not be found if you searched all the world through! Their heads were
bigger than their little bodies, and their hammers twice the size of
themselves, but the strongest men on earth could not have handled their
iron clubs more stoutly or given lustier blows.

The little blacksmiths were clad in leather aprons, which covered them
from their necks to their feet in front, and left their backs naked.
On a high stool against the wall sat the man with the pinewood staff,
watching sharply the way the little fellows did their work, and near him
stood a large can, from which every now and