Some of the neighbours joined the merry party.  The men smoked their pipes, while the women chatted together and the children frolicked about them and picked wild flowers.

How many sweet smells there were in the fields!  How gaily the birds sang!  The air seemed full of peace and joy.

They all wandered on till they came to a cascade flowing down over some high rocks.  Trees grew close to the waterfall, and bent over it as though to hide it from curious eyes.

It was a pretty spot.

“Let us sit down at the foot of this cascade,” said Bertha’s father, “It is a pleasant place to rest.”

Every one liked the plan.  Bertha nestled close to her father’s side.

“Tell us a story.  Please do,” she said.

“Ask neighbour Abel.  He knows many a legend of just such places as this.  He has lived in the Hartz Mountains, and they are filled with fairy stories.”

The rest of the party heard what was said.

“Neighbour Abel!  A story, a story,” they cried.

Of course the kind-hearted German could not refuse such a general request.  Besides, he liked to tell stories.  Taking his long pipe out of his mouth, he laid it down on the ground beside him.  Then he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Look above you, friends.  Do you see that mark on the rocky platform overhead?  I noticed it as soon as I got here.  It made me think of a wild spot in the Hartz Mountains where there is just such a mark.  The people call it ‘The Horse’s Hoof-print.’  I will tell you how they explain its coming there.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess.  Her name was Brunhilda, and she lived in Bohemia.  She lived a gay and happy life, like most young princesses, till one day a handsome prince arrived at her father’s palace.  He was the son of the king of the Hartz country.

“Of course, you can all guess what happened.  The prince fell in love with the princess, and she returned his love.  The day was set for the wedding, and the young prince went home to prepare for the great event.

“But he had been gone only a short time when a powerful giant arrived at Brunhilda’s home.  He came from the far north.  His name was Bodo.

“He asked for the princess in marriage, but her heart had already been given away.  She did not care for the giant, even though he gave her the most elegant presents,—­a beautiful white horse, jewels set in gold, and chains of amber.

“‘I dare not refuse the giant,’ said Brunhilda’s father.  ’He is very powerful, and we must not make him angry.  You must marry him, my daughter, in three days.’

“The poor maiden wept bitterly.  It seemed as though her heart would break.  But she was a clever girl, and she soon dried her tears and began to think of some plan by which she might yet be free.  She began to smile upon the giant and treat him with great kindness.