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was once a maiden who had neither father nor mother, for the Vilas had formed her out of snow, brought at midsummer, on St. Elias's day, from a bottomless cleft in the rock. The wind had fanned her into life, the dew had nourished her, the forest had clothed her with its leaves, and the meadows adorned her with their flowers. She was whiter than the snow, rosier than the rose, brighter than the sun, and more beautiful than any maiden who had ever been upon the earth, or ever will be again.

This virgin let it be known throughout the wide world that on a certain day, in a certain place, a race would be run; and that whatever youth, riding on horseback, should overtake her, would win her. This news spread in a few days throughout the whole world,