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“Know already,” replied the Tempest of Zollern; and kept on his way till he stood in the court-yard, where he took the boy by one of his little feet and lifted him into the saddle, bound him fast, and then swinging himself on his horse, trotted out of the castle gate with the bridle of his son’s horse in his hand.

At first the little fellow regarded it as a great treat to ride down the mountain with his father. He clapped his hands, laughed, shook the mane of his horse to make him go faster, all of which pleased the count so much that he called out several times: “You will make a brave lad!”

But when they came to the foot of the mountain, and the count’s horse began to trot, the boy lost his courage, and begged, at first very quietly, that his father would ride slower; but as the count spurred on his horse, and the strong wind nearly took poor Cuno’s breath away, the boy began to cry, became more and more impatient, and finally howled at the top of his lungs.

“Know already! stupid stuff!” began his father. “The young one howls on his first ride; be still, or—-“

But in the moment he was about to stop the boy’s cries by a curse, his horse reared, and the bridle of his son’s horse slipped from his hand. He gave his attention to quieting his horse, and when he had mastered it and looked around for his child, he saw the other horse running up the mountain without its little rider.

Stern and unfeeling as was the Count of Zollern, this sight struck him to the heart. He believed his son had been dashed to the ground and killed. He pulled his beard and groaned; but nowhere could he find a trace of the boy. He had just began to think that the frightened horse had thrown him into the ditch that ran along the road, full of water, when he heard a child’s voice call his name, and as he quickly turned, there sat an old woman under a tree, not far from the road, rocking the child on her knees.

“How do you come by that boy, old witch?” shouted the count angrily. “Bring him to me at once.”

“Not so fast, not so fast, your Honor!” laughed the ugly old woman, “or you too might meet with an accident on your proud horse. How did I come by the boy, did you ask? Well, his horse ran by and he was hanging down by one little foot, with his hair touching the ground, when I caught him in my apron.”

“Know already!” cried the Count of Zollern, ill-humoredly. “Bring him here now; I can not very well dismount, my horse is wild and might kick him.”

“Give me a hirsch-gulden, then,” pleaded the woman humbly.

“Stupid stuff!” cried the count, and flung some copper coins to her under the tree.

“Oh, no! Come, I could make good use of a hirsch-gulden,” continued the old woman.

“What, a hirsch-gulden! You are not worth that much yourself!” said the count angrily. “Quick with that child, or I will set the dogs on you!”

“So, I am not worth a hirsch-gulden, eh?” replied the old woman with a mocking laugh. “Well, it shall be seen what part of your heritage is worth a hirsch-gulden; but there, keep your money!” So saying, she tossed the three copper coins to the count; and so well could the old woman throw, that all three of the coins fell into the purse that the count still held in his hand.

The count was struck dumb with astonishment at this exhibition of skill, but at last his surprise was changed into anger. He grasped his gun, cocked it, and took aim at the old woman. But she, unmoved, hugged and kissed the boy, holding him up before her so as to protect herself from the bullet. “You are a good little fellow,” said she. “Only remain so, and you will never want for any thing.” Then she let him go, shook her finger threateningly at the count, and said: “Zollern, Zollern! you owe me a hirsch-gulden!” With that she moved off slowly into the forest, leaning on a staff of box-wood. Conrad, the attendant, dismounted from his horse trembling, lifted his little master into the saddle, vaulted up behind him, and followed the count up to the castle.