As soon as the King heard this he sent for Boots to come before him. “How is this?” said he. “Why do you tell others that you can rescue the Princess if you choose, and yet you never tell me?” “But I never said such a thing,” said Boots. “Yes, but you did.” “No, but I didn’t.” The King would not listen to him, however. He was determined that Boots must set out on the adventure at once. If he rescued the Princess, he should have her for a wife, but if he failed his head should be cut from his shoulders. As soon as Boots left the King, he went straight out to Dapplegrim’s stall, and he was down in the mouth, as you may well believe. “What is the matter, Master?” asked Dapplegrim. “Matter enough,” answered Boots; and then he told the great grey horse all that the King had been saying to him. The great grey horse listened attentively. “This is no easy thing the King has asked of you,” he said; “but it might have been worse. And then it isn’t every day one has a chance of winning a princess for a wife. Do you go back to the King and ask him for ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel, and six blacksmiths to do some work for us, for I must be properly shod before we start out on this adventure.” Well, Boots went back to the King and asked him for just that, ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel, and six blacksmiths to work for him. The King did not say no. Ten pounds of iron and twelve pounds of steel were brought to the palace, and six blacksmiths came to shoe the great horse Dapplegrim, and it was a task for all six of them; for after the shoes were made, it took three blacksmiths to hold up each one of Dapplegrim’s feet and three more to fit the shoe to it, but when it was done never any other horse in all the world was shod like him. Then Boots mounted and rode forth. On and on went Dapplegrim, so fast and far that you might have thought they would have ridden over the very edge of the world. Finally Dapplegrim asked, “Master, do you see anything?” “Yes,” said Boots, “I see something far before us. It looks like a wall of snow with a black spot on top of it no bigger than a nut.” “That white wall is the hill of glass,” said the grey horse, “and the spot on top of it is the troll’s house, but we have still a journey to make before we reach it.” Then on they went and on they went, and after a while they came to the foot of the hill. When Boots looked at it his heart sank within him, for he did not see how any living thing could keep a foothold on it. “Well, here we are, Master,” said Dapplegrim. “And now, unless we can mount the hill, it is an ill day for you and me too.” Then Boots gathered up the reins and rode the great grey horse straight at it, and the fire flashed from under Dapplegrim’s feet. Three times Boots rode Dapplegrim at the hill. The first time the great horse scarcely mounted as high as a man could reach, and then his feet slipped from under him and back he fell.