On his third birthday, however, the count had his son put on the first pair of breeches and had him dressed splendidly in velvet and silk. Then he ordered his horse, and also another fine horse for his son, took the child up on his arm, and began to descend the spiral staircase. The countess was astonished as she saw this. She was not accustomed to inquire where he was going and when he would return; but this time anxiety for her child opened her lips. "Are you going to ride out, Sir Count?" she asked. He made no reply. "For what purpose do you take the child?" continued she, "Cuno will take a walk with me." "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."