Little Prince Ivan cried bitterly, for he was very little and was all
alone. He rode on further over the wide world, the black horse
galloping and galloping under the tall trees, and throwing clods of
earth from his thundering hoofs.

He came among the mountains. And there was a roaring and a crashing in
the mountains as if the earth was falling to pieces. One after another
whole mountains were lifted up into the sky and flung down to earth,
so that they broke and scattered into dust. And the big black horse
galloped through the mountains, and little Prince Ivan sat bravely on
his back. And there, close before him, was the huge giant
Mountain-tosser, picking up the mountains like pebbles and hurling
them to little pieces and dust upon the ground.

"This must be the end of the world," thought the little Prince; "and
at any rate I should be safe with him."

"Please, great giant," says he, "is this the end of the world? And may
I live with you and be safe from my sister, who is a witch, and has
iron teeth, and grows like a seed of corn?"

"Prince Ivan, my dear," says Mountain-tosser, resting for a moment and
dusting the rocks off his great hands, "this is not the end of the
world, and little good would it be to you to stay with me. For as soon
as I have picked up all these mountains and thrown them down again I
shall die, and then where would you be? Your sister would have you in
a minute. And there are not very many mountains left."

And the giant set to work again, lifting up the great mountains and
hurling them away. The sky was full of flying mountains.