“Ah,” replied the voice, “I am the daughter of a mighty King; but I have fallen into the power of a witch, and am shut up on the glass-mountain. I have to bathe in the lake every day with my two sisters, but I cannot fly back again without my dress. My sisters have gone away, but I have been forced to stay behind. I entreat you to give me my dress back.”

“Be easy, poor child,” said the drummer. “I will willingly give it back to you.” He took it out of his pocket, and reached it to her in the dark. She snatched it in haste, and wanted to go away with it. “Stop a moment, perhaps I can help you.”

“You can only help me by ascending the glass-mountain, and freeing me from the power of the witch. But you cannot come to the glass-mountain, and indeed if you were quite close to it you could not ascend it.”

“When I want to do a thing I always can do it,” said the drummer; “I am sorry for you, and have no fear of anything. But I do not know the way which leads to the glass-mountain.”