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"Men?" she echoed.

"I think there are six or seven of them in existence. I saw them, several years ago. But one never knows where to find them. The wind blows them away. They have no roots, and that makes their life very difficult."

"Goodbye," said the little prince.

"Goodbye," said the flower.

After that, the little prince climbed a high mountain.

The only mountains he had ever known were the three volcanoes, which came up to his knees.

And he used the extinct volcano as a footstool.

"From a mountain as high as this one," he said to himself, "I shall be able to see the whole planet at one glance, and all the people . . ."

But he saw nothing, save peaks of rock that were sharpened like needles.

"Good morning," he said courteously.

"Good morning--Good morning--Good morning," answered the echo.

"Who are you?" said the little prince.

"Who are you--Who are you--Who are you?" answered the echo.

"Be my friends. I am all alone," he said.

"I am all alone--all alone--all alone," answered the echo.

"What a queer planet!" he thought.

"It is altogether dry, and altogether pointed, and altogether harsh and forbidding.

And the people have no imagination. They repeat whatever one says to them . . .

On my planet I had a flower; she always was the first to speak . . ."

But it happened that after walking for a long time through sand, and rocks, and snow, the little prince at last came upon a road.

And all roads lead to the abodes of men.

"Good morning," he said.

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

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