"
So, casting another look at his steed, who was contentedly browsing, the
Prince climbed up the mountainside in the direction of the sound.
The Prince climbed and climbed, he went in this direction and in that,
yet the sound never grew any louder or fainter. Suddenly he realized
that he was hopelessly lost. The little path up which he had ridden had
vanished completely, and he had not the slightest idea in which
direction it lay. He called aloud, but only the mountain echoes answered
mockingly.
Night came, and the Prince took shelter behind a great rock. All the
next day he labored to find the path, but in vain. He grew very hungry
and cold. Every once in a while he would hear the roaring of the
waterfall, which seemed to have grown louder.
Another day dawned, and another day again. The Prince was getting very
weak. He knew that he was approaching the mysterious cataract, for the
noise of the water was now tremendous, and heaven and earth were full of
its roar. The third night came, and the full moon rose solemnly over the
snow-clad summits of the lonely and mysterious mountains.
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