THE FEAST OF THE DWARFS.THE FEAST OF THE DWARFS.
The procession arrived at the house, as was clearly perceived by the nearer approach of the howl. Theynow all entered. Light and active, the dwarfs skipped over the benches; heavy and dull sounded the steps of the giants among them. Orm and his wife heard them lay out the table and celebrate their feast with the clattering of plates and cries of joy. When the feast was over and midnight was approaching, they began to dance to that magic melody which wraps the soul in sweet bewilderment, and which has been heard by some persons in the valleys and amid the rocks, who have thus learnt the air from subterranean musicians.
No sooner did Aslog hear the melody than she was seized with an indescribable longing to witness the dance. Orm was unable to restrain her. "Let me look," said she, "or my heart will break." She took her infant and placed herself at the furthest extremity of the chamber, where she could see everything without being herself seen. Long did she watch, without turning away her eyes, the dance, and the agile and wonderful steps and leaps of the little beings, who seemed to float in the air and scarcely to touch the ground, whilst the enchanting music of the elfs filled her soul.
In the mean time the infant on her arm grewsleepy and breathed heavily, and, without remembering the promise she had made to the old woman, she made the sign of the cross (as is the custom) over the child's mouth, and said, "Christ bless thee, my child!" She had scarcely uttered the words when a fearful piercing cry arose. The sprites rushed headlong out of the house, their lights were extinguished, and in a few minutes they had all left the house. Orm and Aslog, terrified almost to death, hid themselves in the remotest corner of the house. They ventured not to move until day-break, and, not until the sun shone through the hole over the hearth, did they find courage to come out of their hiding-place.
The table was still covered as the sprites had left it, with all their precious and wonderfully wrought silver vessels. In the middle of the room stood, on the ground, a high copper vessel half filled with sweet metheglin, and by its side a drinking-horn of pure gold. In the corner lay a stringed instrument, resembling a dulcimer, on which, as it is believed, the female giants play. They gazed with admiration on all, but did not venture to touch anything. Greatly were they startled, however, when, on turning round, they beheld, seated at the table, a monstrous form, which Orm immediatelyrecognised as the giant whom Guru had embraced. It was now a cold hard stone. Whilst they stood looking at it, Guru herself, in her giant form, entered the room. She wept so bitterly that her tears fell on the ground, and it was long before her sobs would allow her utterance; at length she said:—
"Great sorrow have you brought upon me; I must now weep for the remainder of my days. As, however, I know that you did it not from any evil intention, I forgive you, although it would be easy for me to crumble this house over your heads like an egg-shell.
"Ah!" exclaimed she, "there sits my husband, whom I loved better than myself, turned for ever into stone, never again to open his eyes. For three hundred years I lived with my father in the island of Kuman, happy in youthful innocence, the fairest amongst the virgins of the giant race. Mighty heroes were rivals for my hand; the sea that surrounds that island is full of fragments of rock which they hurled at each other in fight. Andfind won the victory, and I was betrothed to him. But before our marriage came the abhorred Odin into the country, conquered my father, and drove us out of the island. My father and sister fled to the mountains, and my eyes have never since beheld them.Andfind and I escaped to this island, where we lived for a long time in peace, and began to hope that we should never be disturbed. But Destiny, which no one can escape, had decreed otherwise; Oluff came from Britain. They called him the Holy, and Andfind at once discovered that his journey would be fatal to the giant race. When he heard Oluf's ship dashing through the waves, he went to the shore and blew against it with all his strength. The waves rose into mountains. But Oluf was mightier than he; his vessel flew unharmed through the waves, like an arrow from the bow. He steered straight to our island. When the ship was near enough for Andfind to reach it, he grasped the prow with his right hand, and was in the act of sending it to the bottom, as he had often done with other ships. But Oluf, the dreadful Oluf, stepped forwards, and crossing his hands, cried out with a loud voice:—'Stand there, a stone, until the last day!' and in that moment my unhappy husband became a mass of stone. The ship sailed on unhindered towards the mountain, which it severed, and separated from it the little islands that lie around it.
"From that day all my happiness was annihilated, and I have passed my life in loneliness and sorrow.Only on Yule evening can a petrified giant recover life for seven hours, if one of the race embraces him, and is willing to renounce a hundred years of life for this purpose. It is seldom that a giant does this. I loved my husband too tenderly not to recall him to life as often as I could, at whatever cost to myself. I never counted how often I had done it, in order that I might not know when the time would come when I should share his fate, and in the act of embracing him become one with him. But ah! even this consolation is denied me. I can never again awaken him with an embrace, since he has heard the name which I may not utter, and never will he again see the light until the dawn of the last day.
"I am about to quit this place. You will never again behold me. All that is in the house I bestow on you. I reserve only my dulcimer. Let no one presume to set foot on the little surrounding islands. There dwells the little subterranean race, whom I will protect as long as I live."
With these words she vanished. The following spring, Orm carried the golden horn and the silver vessels to Drontheim, where no one knew him. The value of these costly utensils was so great, that he wasenabled to purchase all that a rich man requires. He loaded his vessel with his purchases, and returned to the island, where he lived for many years in uninterrupted happiness. Aslog's father soon became reconciled to his wealthy son-in-law.
The stone figure remained seated in the house. No one was able to remove it thence. The stone was so hard that axe and hammer were shivered against it, without making the slightest impression on it. There the giant remained till a holy man came to the island, and with one word restored it to its former place, where it still is to be seen.
The copper vessel which the subterranean people left behind them, is preserved as a memorial in the island, which is still called the Island of the Hut.
A
shepherd who had two children, a son and a daughter, had, at his death, nothing to leave them but three sheep, and the little cottage they inhabited. On his death-bed he blessed them, and with his last breath admonished them to divide the legacy, and share it affectionately. When the children had buried their beloved father, the brother asked the sister which part of the inheritance she would prefer,—the sheep or the cottage? and as she chose the cottage, he said, "Then I will take the sheep, and wander out in the wide world; many a one has there found his fortune, and I am a Sunday child." With these words he embraced his sister, and with his inheritance left his native place.
Far and wide did he wander, and much did he suffer—fortune never once recognising him as her son.Once, full of sorrow, uncertain whither to bend his steps, he sat down by a cross road, when all at once there stood before him a man accompanied by three large dogs, the one greater than the other, strongly built, and jet black.
"Well, my brave youth," said the man, "you have there three fine sheep, and if you choose we will exchange property; let me have your sheep, and you shall have my dogs."
In spite of his mournful disposition, the youth could not help laughing at the proposal. "What am I to do with your dogs?" demanded he; "my sheep feed themselves, but your dogs will want to be fed."
"My dogs are of a peculiar kind," answered the stranger; "they will provide for you, instead of your providing for them, and besides they will bring you great fortune. The smallest of them is called Bring-food; the second, Tear-to-pieces; and the great and strong one is named Break-steel-and-iron."
The shepherd, persuaded by the stranger, gave up his sheep; and now, to try their quality, he called out "Bring-food!" and forthwith one of the dogs ran away, and soon returned with a great basket full of the costliest and daintiest victuals. The shepherd was now muchpleased at his exchange, and travelled far and wide over the land.
Once on his road he met a carriage hung all over with black crape drawn by two horses, which were covered with cloth of the same colour, and the coachman, too, was in deep mourning. In the carriage was seated a wondrously beautiful lady, also enveloped in the mournful colour of sorrow, and bitterly weeping; the horses, with drooping heads, paced slowly along. "What means this?" said he to the coachman; but the coachman gave an evasive answer; at last, however, after much pressing, he related as follows: "There dwells in this neighbourhood a ferocious dragon who caused great havoc and destruction; to appease him, and to secure the land against his devastation, a compact has been entered into with him, and he each year receives as tribute a fair maiden, whom he at one morsel devours and swallows. All the maidens in the kingdom at the age of fourteen draw lots between them, and this year the lot has fallen upon the daughter of the king: on this account the king and the whole state were plunged into the deepest grief; but such terror did the dragon inspire, that they dared not refuse him the sacrifice."
The shepherd felt pity for the beautiful young princess, and followed the carriage, which at last stopped at a high mountain. The princess descended, and, full of despair and anguish, went slowly onwards to meet her awful destiny. The driver, on observing that the youth followed her, warned him; the shepherd, however, was not to be persuaded, but followed her steps.
When they had thus advanced half-way up the mountain, the terrible monster approached from the summit, with an awful noise, to devour the victim. From its widely-extended jaws issued streams of burning sulphur, its body was encircled with thick horny scales, on its feet it had immense claws, and wings were attached to its long serpentine neck: already was it near enough to pounce upon its prey, when the shepherd cried out, "Tear-to-pieces!" and his second dog threw himself upon the dragon, and attacked him with such strength and ferocity, that, after a short combat, the monster fell exhausted and dead at the feet of his antagonist, who, to finish his victory, wholly devoured him, leaving only two teeth; these the shepherd put in his pocket.
The princess, overcome with the extreme emotions offear and joy, had fainted away; the shepherd by every means in his power tried to restore her back to life, in which he at last succeeded. When fully recovered, the princess threw herself at the feet of her deliverer, thanking, and imploring him to return with her to her father, who would richly reward him for having returned him his daughter, and saved the country from the scourge of the dragon.
The youth answered, he would first like to see and know a little more of the world; but in three years he would return, and by this resolution he remained. The maiden then returned to her carriage, and the shepherd continued his wanderings in an opposite direction.
Meanwhile the coachman, who had been a spectator of the whole, now meditated in his own black mind how to turn this fortunate conclusion of the tragedy to his own profit and aggrandizement. As they were passing over a bridge, under which flowed a great stream, he turned himself to the princess and said, "Your deliverer is gone, and was not even anxious for your thanks. It would be a noble action of yours to make the fortune of a poor man. If you, therefore, were to tell your father that it was by my hand that the dragon perished,this would be accomplished. But should you refuse to do so, I will throw you into this deep river, and no one will ever ask after you, being all convinced that the dragon has devoured you." The maiden cried and prayed, but in vain; she was forced to swear that she would proclaim the coachman as her deliverer, and never divulge the secret to any mortal.
They then returned to the capital, where all was rejoicing and gladness at their return. The black banners were removed from the steeples of the church, and gay coloured ones were hoisted to replace them. The king with tears of joy embraced his daughter and her supposed deliverer: "Thou hast not only saved my child," said he, "but thou hast also delivered my land from the greatest pestilence by which it ever has been scourged: to reward you royally for your undaunted courage, and in a manner commensurate with your great service, I intend to bestow my daughter in marriage upon you; but as she is yet too young, we will defer the ceremony for one year."
The coachman thanked the king, was forthwith richly apparelled, elevated to the rank of a duke, with the possession of a dukedom, and instructed in those politemanners requisite in his new and elevated station. The princess was much afflicted, and bewailed her mournful destiny most bitterly, when she was informed of the promise her father had made; but withal she feared to break her oath. When the year was at an end, in spite of all her entreaties she could not obtain from her father anything beyond the promise that the wedding should be delayed for another year. This also expired.
She again threw herself at her father's feet imploring for yet another year, for she well remembered the promise of her young and handsome deliverer, that in three years he would return. The king could not resist her entreaties, and acquiesced in her prayer on the condition that at the termination of that time she would wed the man he had chosen for her. The time again quickly elapsed. The auspicious day was already fixed, on the towers gay banners waved in the breeze, and the joyful shouting of the people mounted to the sky.
On the same day a stranger, with three dogs, entered the town. On demanding the reason of the public rejoicing, he was informed that the king's daughter, that very day, was to be united to the man that haddelivered her and the country from the terrible dragon, which he had slain.
The stranger, in no very measured terms, pronounced this man an impostor, who had decked himself with other's feathers: the watch who, passing by, had overheard him, at once apprehended him and threw him into a strong prison guarded with doors and bars of iron. As he lay on his bundle of straw and sorrowfully contemplated his destiny, he thought he heard the whining of his dogs,—a gleam of hope suddenly burst upon him—"Break-steel-and-iron!" cried he as loud as he could, and hardly had he uttered the words when he saw the paws of his biggest dog hard at work on the bars of his window, tearing and breaking them down as if they had been reeds; the dog then jumped down into the cell and bit the chains with which his master was fettered, to pieces; whereupon both left the prison by the window as hastily as possible. He was now again at liberty, but the thought painfully oppressed him that another should have reaped the benefit of the deed of which he deserved the merit and reward. He felt also very hungry, and he called to one of his dogs, "Bring-food," which dog soon returned with a napkin full ofcostly food; the napkin was marked with a royal crown.
The king was seated at table, with all the great men of his land around him, when the dog made its appearance, and, as if in supplication, licked the hand of the princely maiden. She at once recognised the dog, and tied her own napkin round his neck, looking upon his appearance as foreboding her deliverance. She then prayed her father for a few words in private, when she disclosed to him the whole of the secret: the king sent a messenger to see whither the dog went, and thestranger was soon after brought into the royal presence. The former coachman, pale and trembling at his appearance, fell upon his knees imploring mercy; the princess at once recognised the stranger as her saviour, who moreover proved his identity by the two dragon teeth that he yet carried about with him. The coachman was thrown into a deep dungeon and his dignities were conferred on the shepherd, who was the same day wedded to the princess.
The youthful pair lived a long time in the greatest happiness. The former shepherd often thought of his sister; and, that she might participate in his felicity, a carriage and servants were sent to fetch her, and before long she was pressed to the breast of her affectionate brother; then one of the dogs said to his master, "Our time is now expired; you need us no longer; we remained thus long with you to see whether in fortune also you would remember your sister, or whether the sudden acquisition of wealth and power would make you proud, forgetful, and austere. You have not proved guilty of such wickedness, but have shown yourself virtuous and affectionate." The dogs then changed into birds and vanished in the air.
T
here lived once a gay-hearted musician, who played the flute in a masterly style, and earned his living by wandering about, and playing on his instrument in all the towns and villages he came to. One evening he arrived at a farm-house, and resolved to stay there, as he could not reach the next village before night-fall. The farmer gave him a very friendly reception, made him sit down at his own table, and after supper requested him to play him an air on his flute. When the musician had finished, he looked out of the window, and saw by the light of the moon, at no great distance from the farm, an ancient castle, which was partly in ruins.
"What old castle is that?" said the musician; "and to whom did it belong?"
The farmer then related to him, that many, manyyears ago, a count had dwelt there, who was very rich, but also very avaricious. He had been very harsh to his vassals, had never given any alms to the poor, and had finally died without heirs, as his avarice had deterred him from marrying. His nearest relations had then taken possession of the castle, but had not been able to discover any money whatever in it. It was, therefore, supposed that he must have buried the treasure, and that it must still be lying concealed in some part of the old castle. Many persons had gone into the castle in hopes of finding the treasure, but no one had ever appeared again; and on this account the authorities of the village had forbidden any access to it, and had seriously warned all people throughout the country against going there.
The musician listened attentively, and when the farmer had finished his narration, he expressed the most ardent desire to go into the castle, for he had a brave heart, and knew not fear. The farmer, however, entreated him earnestly, even on his knees, to have regard for his young life, and not to enter the castle. But prayers and entreaties were vain: the musician was not to be shaken in his resolution. Two of the farmer's men were obliged to light a couple of lanterns andaccompany the courageous musician to the old and dreaded castle. When he reached it, he sent them home again with one of the lanterns, and taking the other in his hand, he boldly ascended a long flight of steps. Arrived at the top, he found himself in a spacious hall, which had doors on all sides. He opened the first he came to, entered a chamber, and seating himself at an old-fashioned table, placed his light thereon, and began playing on his flute. Meanwhile, the farmer could not close his eyes all night, through anxiety for his fate, and often looked out of the window towards the tower, and rejoiced exceedingly when he heard each time his guest still making sweet music. But when, at length, the clock against the wall struck eleven, and the flute-playing ceased, he became dreadfully alarmed, believing no otherwise than that the ghost, or devil, or whoever it might be that inhabited the castle, had, doubtless, twisted the poor youth's neck. The musician, however, had continued playing without fear until he was tired, and at length finding himself hungry, as he had not eaten much at the farmer's, he walked up and down the room, and looked about him. At last he spied a pot full of uncooked lentils, and on another table stood a vessel full of water, anotherfull of salt, and a flask of wine. He quickly poured the water over the lentils, added the salt, made a fire in the stove, as there was plenty of wood by the side of it, and began to cook soup. Whilst the lentils were stewing, he emptied the flask of wine, and began playing again on his flute. As soon as the lentils were ready, he took them off the fire, shook them into the plate that stood ready on the table, and eat heartily of them. He then looked at his watch, and saw it was about eleven o'clock. At that moment the door suddenly flew open, and two tall black men entered, carrying on their shoulders a bier, on which lay a coffin. Without uttering a word, they placed the bier before the musician, who did not interrupt himself in his meal on account of them, and then they went out again at the same door, as silently as they had come in. As soon as they were gone the musician hastily rose from his seat, and uncovered the coffin. A little old and shrivelled man, with grey hair and a grey beard, lay therein; but the young man felt no fear, and lifting him out of the coffin, placed him by the stove, and no sooner did the body become warm, than life returned to it. Then the musician became quite busy with the old man, gave him some of the lentils to eat, and even fed him as amother does her child. At last the old man became quite animated, and said to him, "Follow me!"
The little old man led the way, and the young flutist, taking his lantern, followed without trepidation. They descended a long and dilapidated flight of steps, and at last arrived in a deep gloomy vault.
On the ground lay a great heap of money. Then the little man said to the youth, "Divide this heap for me into two equal portions; but mind that thou leave not anything over, for if thou dost I will deprive thee of life!"
The youth merely smiled in reply, and immediately began to count out the money upon two great tables, laying a piece alternately on each, and so in no long time he had separated the heap into two equal portions; but just at the last he found there was one kreutzer over. After a moment's thought he drew out his pocket-knife, set the blade upon the kreutzer, and striking it with a hammer that was lying there, cut the coin in half. When he had thrown one half on each of the heaps, the little man became right joyous, and said: "Thou courageous man, thou hast released me! It is now already a hundred years that I have been doomed to watch my treasure, which I collected out of avarice,until some one should succeed in dividing the money into two equal portions. Not one of the many who have tried could do it; and I was obliged to strangle them all. One of the heaps of gold is thine; distribute the other among the poor. Thou happy man, thou hast released me!"
When he had uttered these words, the little old man vanished. The youth, however, re-ascended the steps, and began again to play in the same chamber as before, merry tunes on his flute.
Rejoiced was the farmer when he again heard the notes; and with the earliest dawn he went to the castle and joyfully met the youth. The latter related to him the events of the night, and then descended to his treasure, with which he did as the little old man had commanded him. He caused, however, the old castle to be pulled down, and there soon stood a new one in its place, where the musician, now become a rich man, took up his abode.
I
n a remote land there dwelt, in former days, a wealthy count. He and his consort most ardently wished for a child, to whom they might bequeath their riches; but a long time passed ere their wish was gratified. At length, after twelve weary years, the countess bore a son; but short was the time granted her to rejoice at the accomplishment of her desire, for she died the day after the child's birth. Before she expired, she warned her husband never to allow the child to touch the earth with his feet, for, from the moment he should do so he would fall into the power of a bad fairy who was on the watch for him. The countess then breathed her last.
The boy throve well, and when he had outgrown the age for being in the nurse's arms, a peculiarly-formedchair was constructed for him, in which he could, unassisted, convey himself about the garden of his father's castle. At other times he was carried in a litter, and most carefully attended to and watched, in order that he might never touch the earth with his feet.
As, however, the physicians, in order to supply the absence of other exercise, prescribed riding on horseback, he was instructed in that art as soon as he was ten years of age, and soon became proficient enough in it to be allowed to ride out daily, without any apprehension of danger to him being felt by his father. On these occasions he was always attended by a numerous suite.
He rode almost every day in the forest and on the plain, and returned safely home. In this manner many years glided away; and the warning given by the late countess almost ceased to be dwelt upon, and the enjoined precautions were observed rather from old habit than from any immediate sense of their importance.
One day the youth, with his attendants, rode across the fields to a wood, where his father frequently took the diversion of hunting. The path led to a rivulet, the borders of which were overgrown with bushes. The riders crossed it; when suddenly a hare, startled bythe tramp of the horses, sprang from the bush and fled through the wood. The young count pursued, and had almost overtaken it, when the saddle-girth of his horse broke; saddle and rider rolled together on the ground, and at the same moment he vanished from the sight of his terrified attendants, leaving no trace behind.
All search or enquiry was vain; and they recognised in the misfortune the power of the evil fairy, against whom the countess had uttered her dying warning. The old count was deeply afflicted; but as he could do nothing to effect the deliverance of his son, he resigned himself to fate, and lived patiently and solitary, in the hope that a more favourable destiny might yet one day rescue the youth from the hands of his enemy.
The young count had scarcely touched the earth before he was seized by the invisible fairy, and carried off by her. He seemed now transported to quite a new world, and without a hope of ever being released from it. A strangely-built castle, surrounded by a spacious lake, was the fairy's residence. A floating bridge, which rested only on clouds, afforded a passage across it. On the other side were only forests and mountains, which were constantly wrapped in a dense fog, and inwhich no human voice, nor even that of any other living creature was ever heard. All around him was awful, mysterious, and gloomy; and only on the eastern side of the castle, where a little promontory stretched out into the lake, a narrow path wound through a valley in the rocks, behind which a river glistened.
As soon as the fairy with her captive arrived on her territory, she commanded him fiercely to execute all her behests with the extremest precision, at the risk of being punished severely for disobedience and delay.
She then gave him a glass hatchet, bidding him cross the bridge of clouds and go into the forest, where she expected him to cut down all the timber before sun-set. At the same time she warned him, on pain of her severest displeasure, not to speak to the dark maiden whom in all probability he would meet in the forest.
The young count listened respectfully to her orders, and betook himself with his glass hatchet to the appointed place. The bridge of clouds seemed at each step he took to sink beneath him; but fear would not admit of his delaying; and so he soon arrived, although much fatigued by his mode of passage, at the wood, where he immediately began his work.
But he had no sooner made his first stroke at a tree, than the glass hatchet flew into a thousand splinters. The youth was so distressed he knew not what to do, so much did he fear the chastisement that the cruel fairy would inflict on him. He wandered hither and thither, and at length, quite exhausted by anxiety and fatigue, he sank on the ground and slept.
After a time something roused him; when upon opening his eyes, he beheld the black maiden standing before him. Remembering the prohibition he did not venture to address her. But she greeted him kindly, and inquired if he did not belong to the owner of the domain. The young count made a sign in the affirmative. The maiden then related that she was in like manner bound to obey the fairy who had by magic transformed her and forced her to wander in that ugly form, until some youth should take pity on her and conduct her over that river beyond which the domain of the fairy and her power did not extend. On the further side of the river she was powerless to harm any one who, by swimming through the waves, should reach the other shore.
These words inspired the young count with so much courage, that he revealed to the black maiden thewhole of his destiny, and asked her counsel how he might escape punishment, since the wood was not cut down, and the hatchet was broken.
"I know," resumed the maiden, "that the fairy, in whose power we both are, is my own mother; but thou must not betray that I have told thee this, for it would cost me my life. If thou wilt promise to deliver me, I will assist thee, and will perform for thee all that my mother commands thee to do."
The youth promised joyfully; she again warned him several times not to say a word to the fairy that should betray her, and then gave him a beverage, which he had no sooner drunk than he fell into a soft slumber.
How great was his astonishment on waking to find the glass hatchet unbroken at his feet, all the trees of the forest cut down and lying round him!
He instantly hastened back across the cloud bridge, and informed the fairy that her behest was obeyed. She heard with much surprise that the forest was cut down, and that the glass hatchet was still uninjured, and being unable to believe that he had performed all that unassisted, she closely questioned him whether he had seen and spoken to the black maiden. But the count strongly denied that he had, and affirmed thathe had not once looked up from his work. When she found that she could learn nothing further from him, she gave him some bread and water, and showed him a little dark closet where she bade him pass the night.
Almost before day-break the fairy again wakened him, assigned him for that day's task to cleave, with the same glass hatchet, all the wood he had felled into billets, and then to arrange them in heaps; at the same time she again warned him, with redoubled threats, not to go near the black maiden, or dare converse with her.
Although his present work was in no respect easier than that of the preceding day, the youth set off in much better spirits, for he hoped for the assistance of the black maiden. He crossed the bridge quicker and more lightly than the day before, and had scarcely passed it when he beheld her. She received him with a friendly salutation; and when she heard what the fairy had now required of him, she said, smiling, "Do not be uneasy," and handed to him a similar beverage to that of yesterday. The count again fell into a deep sleep. When he awoke his work was done; for all the trees of the forest were cut up into blocks and arranged in heaps.
He returned home quickly. When the fairy heard that he had performed this task also, she was still more surprised than before. She again inquired if he had seen or spoken to the black maiden; but the count had the prudence to preserve his secret, and she was again obliged to content herself with his denial.
On the third day she set him a new task, and this was the most difficult of all. She commanded him to build, on the further side of the lake, a magnificent castle, which should consist of nothing but gold, silver, and precious stones; and if he did not build the said castle in less than one hour's time, he might expect the most dreadful fate.
The count listened to her commands without alarm, such was the confidence he reposed in the black maiden. Cheerily he hastened across the bridge, and immediately recognised the spot where the palace was to be erected. Pickaxes, hammers, spades, and all manner of tools requisite for building, lay scattered around; but neither gold, nor silver, nor jewels could he spy. He had, however, scarcely begun to feel uneasy at this circumstance, when the black maiden beckoned to him from a rock at some distance, behind which she had concealed herself from hermother's searching looks. The youth hastened to her well pleased, and besought her to assist him in the execution of her mother's orders.
This time, however, the fairy had watched the count from a window of her castle, and descried him and her daughter just as they were about to conceal themselves behind the rock. She set up such a frightful scream, that the mountains and the lake re-echoed with it, and the terrified pair scarcely dared to look out from their hiding-place, whilst the infuriated fairy, with violent gestures and hasty strides, her hair and garments streaming in the wind, hastened across the bridge of clouds. The youth gave himself up for lost; each step of the fairy seemed to bring him nearer to destruction. The maiden, however, took courage, and bade him follow her as quickly as possible. Before they hastened from the spot she broke a stone from the rock, uttered a spell over it, and threw it towards the place from which her mother was advancing. At once a glittering palace arose before the eyes of the fairy, which dazzled her with its lustre, and delayed her by the numerous windings of its avenue, through which she was obliged to thread her way.
Meanwhile the black maiden hurried the countalong, in order to reach the river, the opposite bank of which alone could protect her for ever from the persecutions of the raging fairy. But before they had got half way, she was again so near them that her imprecations, and even the rustling of her garments reached their ears.
The terror of the youth was extreme; he dared not to look behind him, and had scarcely power left to advance. At every breath he fancied that he felt the hand of the terrible fairy on his neck. Then the maiden stopped, again uttered a spell, and was at once transformed into a pond, whilst the count swam upon its waters under the figure of a drake.
The fairy, incensed to the utmost at this new transformation, called down thunder and hail on the two fugitives; but the water refused to be disturbed, and whilst it remained calm no thunder-cloud would approach it. She now employed her power to cause the pond to vanish from the spot: she pronounced a magic spell, and called up a hill of sand at her feet, which she intended should choke up the pond. But the sand-hill drove the water still further on, and seemed rather to augment than diminish it. When the fairy found this would not answer, and that her art failed so entirely,she had recourse to cunning. She threw a heap of golden nuts into the pond, hoping thereby to entice the drake, and catch him; but he snapped at the nuts with his bill, pushed them all back to the margin, dived here and there, and made game of the fairy in various ways.
Finding herself again cheated, and unwilling to see the reflection of her face in the pond, glowing, as it was, with rage and mortification, she turned back full of fury to devise some other stratagem by which to catch the fugitives.
She concealed herself behind the very same rock which had served them for a place of refuge, and watched for the moment when they should both resume their natural form in order to pursue their way.
It was not long before the maiden disenchanted herself, as well as the count, and as they could nowhere perceive their persecutor, they both hastened in good spirits to the river.
But scarcely had they proceeded a hundred paces, when the fairy burst out again after them with redoubled speed, shaking at them the dagger with which she meant to pierce them both. But she was doomed to see her intentions again frustrated and derided;for just as she thought she had reached the flying pair, a marble chapel rose before her, in the narrow portal of which stood a colossal monk, to prevent her entrance.
Foaming with passion she struck at the monk's face with her dagger, but behold, it fell into shivers at her feet. She was beside herself with desperation, and raved at the chapel till the columns and dome resounded. Then she determined to annihilate the whole building and the fugitives with it at once. She stamped thrice, and the earth began to quake. A hollow murmur like that of a rising tempest was heard from below, and the monk and chapel began to totter.
As soon as she perceived this, she retired to some distance behind the edifice, that she might not be buried under its ruins. But she was again deceived in her expectation; for she had no sooner retired from the steps, than the monk and chapel disappeared, and an awful forest surrounded her with its black shade, whence issued a terrible sound of the mingled bellowing, roaring, howling and baying of wild bulls, bears, and wolves.
Her rage gave way to terror at this new apparition, for she dreaded every moment to be destroyed by thesecreatures, who all seemed to set her power at defiance. She therefore deemed it most prudent to work her way back through bush and briar towards the lighter side of the forest, in order from thence again to try her might and cunning against the hated pair.
Meantime, both had pursued their way to the river with their utmost speed. As this river resisted all kind of enchantment, consequently it was hostile to the black maiden whose hour of deliverance had not yet struck, and it might have proved fatal to her; she therefore did not let the moment for her complete disenchantment escape, but reminded the youth of his promise. She gave him a bow and arrows and a dagger, and instructed him in the use he was to make of these weapons.
She then vanished from his sight, and at the moment of her disappearance, a raging boar rushed upon him, menacing to rip him up. But the youth took courage and shot an arrow at him with such good aim, that it pierced the animal's skull. It fell to the ground, and from its jaws sprang a hare, which fled as on the wings of the wind along the bank of the river. The youth again bent his bow, and stretched the hare on the earth, when a snow-white dove rose into the air,and circled round him with friendly cooings. As by the directions he had received from the black maiden he was equally forbidden to spare the dove, he sent another arrow from his bow, and brought it down. Approaching to examine it more closely, he found in its place an egg, which spontaneously rolled to his feet.
THE GLASS HATCHET.THE GLASS HATCHET.
The final transformation now drew near. A powerful vulture sailed down upon him with wide stretched beak threatening him with destruction. But the youth seized the egg, waited till the bird approached him, and cast it into its throat. The monster at once disappeared, and the loveliest maiden the count had ever beheld stood before his delighted eyes.
Whilst these events were occurring, the fairy had worked her way out of the forest, and now adopted her last means of reaching the fugitives in case they should not already have passed the river. As soon as she emerged from the forest, she called up her dragon-drawn car and mounted high in the air. She soon descried the lovers, with interlaced arms, swimming easily as a couple of fish towards the opposite bank.
Swift as lightning she bore down with her dragon-car, and regardless of all peril, she endeavoured to reach them, even though they were in the river. But thehostile stream drew down the car into its depths, and dashed her about with its waves until she hung upon the bushes a prey to its finny inhabitants. Thus the lovers were finally rescued. They hastened to the paternal castle, where the count received them with transport. The following day their nuptials were celebrated with great magnificence, and all the inhabitants far and near rejoiced at the happy event.
D
eep in the bosom of a wood once stood a little cottage, inhabited by a poor widow. Her name was Jutta, and she had formerly lived in easy circumstances, but through various misfortunes, without any fault of her own, she had fallen into poverty.
By the labour of her hands she with difficulty contrived to support herself, her daughter Adelheid, and the two children of her departed brother, Henry and Emma. The children, who were good and pious, especially Henry and Emma, did their utmost to assist her by their diligence: the girls spun, and the boy helped the old woman to cultivate the garden, and tended the sheep, whose milk formed the principal part of their daily sustenance.
One evening they were all sitting together in thelittle cottage, whilst a tremendous storm raged without. The rain poured down in torrents, and flash after flash of lightning followed the thunder, which broke over the mountains, and seemed as if it would never cease.
The old woman had just sung to the children the song of the water-sprite who danced with a young maiden till he drew her down into the abyss, when suddenly they heard a tap at the door. The startled children huddled close together, but the mother took courage and opened it, when a soft female voice begged her to give shelter to a traveller who had been overtaken in the forest by the storm.
The stranger was an elderly woman of a noble and dignified appearance, but so kind and friendly in her manner that all were anxious to show her some attention. Whilst the widow was regretting that her poverty did not allow her to receive such a guest in a more worthy manner, Henry lighted the fire, and Emma was anxious to kill her favourite pigeons for her supper, but the lady would not permit this, and took only a little milk.
The following morning, when Jutta and the children awoke, they were not a little astonished at beholding, instead of the aged woman who had entered the hut the night before, a youthful one of superhuman beauty,arrayed in a magnificent dress which sparkled with diamonds.
"Know," said the stranger to the widow, "that you yesterday received into your dwelling no mortal, but a fairy; I always try those mortals whom I desire to benefit, and you have stood the trial. To little Emma I am especially beholden, because she would yesterday have killed for my supper what she most values, her pigeons. For this she shall be gifted. Whenever she weeps, either for joy or sorrow, pearls instead of tears shall drop from her eyes, and the hairs she combs from her head shall turn into threads of pure gold. But beware that no ray of sun ever shine upon her uncovered countenance, for then a great misfortune will befall her; from henceforth never let her go into the open air without being covered with a veil."
The beneficent fairy having thus spoken, vanished; but Jutta, who was desirous to prove the truth of her words, hastily spread a large cloth on the ground, placed the little maiden on it, and commenced combing her long fair locks. Immediately the hairs that fell on the cloth became threads of gold, and when the old woman told the child how rich and grand she might now become, and what pretty toys she might buy, shewept for joy, and the most beautiful pearls rolled from her eyes upon the linen cloth.
The next day the old woman betook herself to the nearest town, sold the pearls and the threads of gold, and bought a fine veil, without which Emma was never suffered to leave the house. She often combed the child's hair several times in the day, telling her all the time the prettiest tales, which drew from her eyes abundance of tears, either of pleasure or compassion, so that in a short time Jutta possessed a considerable treasure in gold and pearls.
At first she sold her treasures to Jews, and received but little for them, as they believed the goods were stolen. By and by, however, when she had become possessed of a small landed estate in the district, she traded with jewellers and goldsmiths, who paid her according to the value of her goods, and so at length she collected a very considerable treasure.
Meanwhile Adelheid and Emma grew into young women. But the increasing wealth of the old woman, whom her neighbours had formerly known to be in such straitened circumstances, and who knew not how she had acquired her riches, gave occasion for envious tongues to utter many an evil speech against her. Stillfurther were their curiosity and ill-nature excited by the singular circumstance that Emma always went about veiled, and under these circumstances, what could be more natural than that the greater part of them were ready to swear without hesitation that old Jutta was a vile witch, and ought to be burned?
Now although these evil speeches were unable to do the widow any real injury, still she was not a little vexed and annoyed when they reached her ears, or when she perceived that she was looked upon with suspicious and wondering looks; and finding it impossible by obliging and friendly conduct, or even by conferring benefits, to win the hearts of her neighbours, or to stop their calumnies, she preferred to abandon altogether the place where she had been known in indifferent circumstances, and to go far away, where her riches would not excite suspicions against her. She therefore resolved to sell her estate, and to take up her residence in the city of Prague. In order, however, not to be too precipitate, she first sent thither her nephew, Henry, that she might become a little acquainted with their future residence, before removing from the former one.
So Henry went to the Bohemian capital, and, as hewas a personable youth, had good manners, and was richly provided with money by his aunt, so that he could live in as good style as any of the nobles of the land, he soon became on friendly terms with numerous counts and other illustrious persons. Judging by his personal appearance and expenditure they took him for one of their own station; nay, one of them, a young count, became his confidential friend, and, as wine often unlocks the secrets of the heart, it happened one day that Henry let out the whole secret concerning his sister, quite forgetting at the moment his aunt's strict prohibition ever to reveal it.
When the count heard so much of the extraordinary understanding, good heart, sweetness, and beauty of the young maiden who was possessed of such wonderful gifts, his heart at once glowed with love for her, and he said with great warmth:—
"I myself possess a domain of such great value, that I am in no need of the riches of another; but I have ever desired to have a wife distinguished above all others for her beauty, virtue, and other rare gifts; therefore I offer my hand to your sister, and I swear to you that I will do all in my power that I may call so wonderful a maiden my own."
Henry perceived his indiscretion now that it was too late, and he could not withstand the earnest entreaties of his friend to obtain for him the hand of his sister. In order, indeed, to lose no time, the count immediately caused to be constructed an entirely closed and well-covered carriage in which to transport Emma to him, without her being exposed to a breath of air.
Surprising as was his proposal, it was so honourable a one, that, after a few minutes' reflection, Emma could not think of refusing such an illustrious and amiable young man as Henry described the count to be. The brother, therefore, hastened back with the news of her consent, and the count immediately went to his residence, in order to make preparations for the reception of his bride, and for a magnificent bridal entertainment.
During the interval, Emma, accompanied by her mother and Adelheid, began her journey, and when they had proceeded about half-way, they came to a great forest. The heat was oppressive, and Emma happened to draw aside her veil, just as Jutta, in order to look after the attendants whom the count had sent to escort his bride on the journey, thoughtlessly opened the door of the carriage. No sooner did a sunbeam shine on the maiden, than she was suddenly transformed into agolden duck, flew out of the carriage, and vanished from the sight of her terrified aunt.