NOTE“The King’s Hares” (Asbjörnsen, N.F.E., p. 190, No. 98. After different variants from Röken, Aadal, Bier and Asker, Riugerike and Hardanger) is the story of the cauldron full of lies, which has probably found special favor in Norway because of its outcome, not very flattering for the king and queen. It is noticeable that in Northern fairy-tales those kings who will not give up their daughters to the heroes at any cost are handled with considerable disrespect.
NOTE
“The King’s Hares” (Asbjörnsen, N.F.E., p. 190, No. 98. After different variants from Röken, Aadal, Bier and Asker, Riugerike and Hardanger) is the story of the cauldron full of lies, which has probably found special favor in Norway because of its outcome, not very flattering for the king and queen. It is noticeable that in Northern fairy-tales those kings who will not give up their daughters to the heroes at any cost are handled with considerable disrespect.
Onceupon a time there was a sinister old couple, who lived out under the open sky. All that they had were three sons, an old cook-pot, an old frying-pan, and an old cat. Then the man died, and after a time his wife died, too. Now their estate was to be divided. So the oldest took the old cook-pot, and the second took the old frying-pan, and Ebe Ashpeter had no choice. He had to take the old cat, and they did not ask him whether he wanted to or not.
“Brother Peter can scrape out the cook-pot after he has loaned it out,” said Ebe. “Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan; but what am I to do with this wretched cat?” And he was angry and envious. Yet he scratched the cat and stroked it, and this pleased the cat so that she began to purr, and raised her tail in the air.
“Wait, wait, I’ll help you yet,” said the cat, “wait, wait, I’ll help you yet!”
There was nothing to bite or break in the hut. Brother Peter and Brother Paul had each of them gone off in a different direction. So Ebe set out, too, with the cat in the lead, himself following; but after a time he turned and went home again, to see whether the floor had been swept, and the cat trippedon alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a great rock, and there she met an enormous herd of reindeer. The cat crept softly around the herd, and then with one leap sprang between the horns of the finest buck.
“If you do not go where I want you to, I’ll scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!” said she. So the buck did not dare do anything save what the cat wished, and off they went over stick and stone, from cliff to cliff, close by Ebe, who was just polishing the door-sill of his house, and with one bound right into the castle.
“I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king might care to have this buck reindeer to drive,” said the cat. Yes, he could make good use of such a young, handsome animal, some time, when he had occasion to drive out to visit a neighboring king.
“This Ebe must be a proud and powerful lord,” said the king, “if he can make me such presents.”
“Yes, he is the greatest lord in all your land and kingdom,” said the cat, but no matter how many questions the king asked, he learned nothing more.
“Tell him that I am much obliged,” said the king, and he sent him a whole cart-load of handsome presents. But Ebe looked past them and paid no attention to them.
“Brother Peter can scrape out his cook-pot when he has loaned it out, and Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan; but whatam I to do with this wretched cat!” said he, and felt angry and envious; but still he scratched the cat, and stroked her, and this pleased her so much that she began to purr, and raised her tail in the air.
“Wait, wait, I will help you yet,” said the cat, “wait, wait, I will help you yet!”
The next day they both set out again, the cat in the lead, and Ebe following. After a while he turned back to see whether the folding-table at home had been scoured. And the cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a dense forest slope. There she found an enormous herd of elk. The cat crept softly up, and suddenly there she sat between the horns of one of the stateliest of the bull elks.
“If you do not go where I want you to, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!” said the cat. The elk did not dare do anything save what the cat wished, and so off they went, like lightning, over stick and stone, from cliff to cliff, right past Ebe, who stood before the house scouring the shutters, and with one bound into the king’s castle.
“I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king might not care to have this bull elk for courier service.” It was quite clear that should the king want a swift messenger, some time, he could not find a swifter in all his kingdom.
“This Ebe must be a most distinguished lord, since he finds such presents for me,” said the king.
“Yes, indeed, one might call him a distinguishedlord,” said the cat, “his wealth is without end or limit.” But no matter how many other questions the king asked, he received no more explicit information.
“Tell him that I am much obliged, and to do me the honor to call when he is passing here some time,” said the king, and sent him a robe as handsome as the one he himself was wearing, and three cartloads of handsome presents. But Ebe did not even want to put on the royal robe, and hardly looked at the other presents.
“Brother Peter can scrape out his cook-pot when he has loaned it out, Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan; but of what use is this wretched cat to me!” he said, in spite of all. Yet he stroked the cat, and pressed her to his cheek, and scratched her, and this pleased the cat so very much that she purred more than on the other occasions, and stuck her tail up into the air as straight as a rod.
“Wait, wait, I will help you yet,” said the cat, “wait, wait, I will help you yet!”
On the third day they set out again, the cat in the lead, and Ebe following. After a time it occurred to him to go back and let the mice out of the house, so that they would not be altogether starved in the old hut; and the cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a dense pine forest, and there she met a father bear, a mother bear and a baby bear. The cat crept softly up to them, and all at once she was hanging by her claws to the father bear’s head.
“If you do not go where I want you to, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!” said the cat, and spit and arched her back. Then the father bear did not dare do anything save what the cat wished, and now they dashed past Ebe, who had just carried all the young mice over the threshold, like a storm, over stick and stone, from cliff to cliff, so that the earth trembled and shook. The king was just standing in the hallway, and was not a little surprised to see such guests arriving.
“I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king might not care to have this bear for a general or royal counselor,” said the cat. The king was more than pleased to secure such a creature for his nearest adviser, who could doubt it.
“Tell him that I am much obliged, but that I do not at all know how to show my appreciation,” said the king.
“Well, he would like to marry your youngest daughter!” said the cat.
“Yes, but that is asking a good deal,” said the king. “He really ought to pay me a visit.”
“Ebe does not enter such plain houses,” said the cat.
“Has he a handsomer castle than this?” asked the king.
“Handsomer? Why, your castle seems like the shabbiest hut in comparison with his!” was the cat’s reply.
“You dare come into my presence, and tell me that there is some one living in my kingdom who is more handsomely housed than I, the king!” shouted the king, beside himself with rage. He came near wringing the cat’s neck.
“You might wait until you see it,” said the cat. And the king said yes, he would wait. “But if you have told me a falsehood, you shall die, and though you had seven lives,” said he.
In the morning the king and the whole court set out to travel to Ebe Ashpeter’s castle. The cat was in the little hut, and called for Ebe, thinking it would be best if both of them got underway an hour earlier. After they had gone a while, they met some folk who were herding sheep; and the sheep were bleating and grazing over the whole plain. They were as large as full-grown calves, and their wool was so long that it dragged along the ground after them. “To whom do the sheep belong?” asked the cat. “To Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,” said the shepherds.
“The court is coming past in a moment,” said the cat, “and if then you do not at once say that they belong to Ebe, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!” said the cat, and spat and arched her back, and showed her teeth. Then the shepherds were so frightened that they at once promised to do as the cat had ordered.
“But to whom do all these sheep belong?” asked the king, when he came by with the court somewhatlater. “They are every bit as handsome as my own!”
“They belong to Ebe,” said the shepherds.
Then the cat and Ebe wandered on for a while, and came to a dense forest slope. There they met folk who were tending goats. The goats skipped and leaped about everywhere, and gave such fine milk that better could no where be found.
“To whom do the goats belong?” asked the cat.
“To Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,” said the herdsmen. Then the cat again went through her ferocious preparations, and the herdsmen were so frightened that they did not dare oppose her wishes.
“Now who in the world can be the owner of so many goats?” asked the king. “I myself have none finer!”
“They belong to Ebe,” said the herdsmen.
Then they wandered on for a while, and met folk who were tending cows: wherever one looked the cows lowed and glistened, and each yielded milk enough for three. When the cat heard that these herdsmen were also in the service of Helge-Hal of the Blue Hill, she spat once more, and arched her back, and then all the herdsmen were ready that moment to say what she wished.
“But in heaven’s name, to whom do all these beautiful cattle belong?” asked the king. “There are no such cattle in my whole kingdom!”
“They belong to Lord Ebe,” said the herdsmen.
Then they wandered on for a long, long time. Atlast they came to a great plain, and there they met horse-herders; and horses whinnied and disported themselves over the whole plain, and their coats were so fine that they glistened as though gilded, and each horse was worth a whole castle.
“For whom do you herd these horses?” asked the cat.
“For Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill,” the herders replied.
“Well, the court will come by here in a little while,” said the cat, “and if you do not say you are herding them for Ebe, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!” said the cat, and she spat, and showed her teeth and claws, and grew so angry her hair stood up all along her back. Then the herders were terribly frightened, and did not dare do anything but what the cat wished.
“But in the name of heaven, to whom do all these horses belong?” asked the king, when he came by with his court.
“They belong to Ebe,” said the herders.
“I never have seen or heard anything like it in all my life!” cried the king. “This Ebe is such a distinguished lord that it is past my understanding!”
The cat and Ebe had long since gone on their way, and had wandered far and ever farther over hill and rock. In the evening, at dusk, they came to a royal castle that glittered and shimmered as though it were of the purest silver and gold—which it was.Yet it was gloomy and depressing, and lonely and barren there, and nowhere was there a sign of life.
Here they went in, and the cat stood with a cake of rye meal just below the door. Suddenly there came a thundering and a thumping so that the earth trembled, and the whole castle shook, and that was the troll who was coming home. And suddenly all was quiet again, and before they knew it, Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill had thrust his three great horrible heads in at the door.
“Let me in! Let me in!” he cried, so that every one shivered. “Wait, wait a bit while I tell you what the rye had to go through before he was made into this cake,” said the cat, and spoke to him in the sweetest way. “First he was threshed, and then he was beaten, and then he was pounded, and then he was thumped, and then he was thrown from one wall to another, and then he was sifted through a sieve....”
“Let me in! Let me in, you chatterbox!” cried the troll, and he was so furious that the sparks flew from him.
“Wait a bit, wait a bit. I will tell you what the rye had to go through before he was made into this cake!” said the cat, and he spoke to him still more sweetly.
“First he was threshed, and then he was beaten, and then he was pounded, and then he was thumped, and then he was thrown from one wall to another, and then he was sifted through a sieve, and shaken here and there, and then he was put on the drying-board,and then in the stove, until it grew so hot that he puffed up more and more, and wanted to get out, but could not,” said the cat, and took her time.
“Get out of the way and let me in!” cried the troll once more, and nearly burst with rage; but the cat acted as though she did not hear him, and talked down the blue from the sky, and went up and down the while, and whenever the troll tried to come in, she met him beneath the door with the cake.
“O, but do take a look at the shining maiden coming up there behind the mountain!” said the cat, after she had talked at length about the sufferings of the rye. And Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill turned his three heads around in order to see the beautiful maiden, too. Then the sun rose, and the troll stiffened into stone. Now Ebe obtained all the riches that the troll had possessed, the sheep and goats, the cows and all the spirited horses, and the handsome golden castle, and some big bags of money besides.
“Here come the king and all his court,” said the cat. “Just go out before the door and receive them!” So Ebe got up and went to meet them.
“You are indeed a very distinguished lord!” said the king to him. “So far as I am concerned you may have the youngest princess!”
Then they started brewing and baking on a large scale in the greatest haste, and everything was made ready for the wedding. On the first day of the feast the cat came and begged the bridegroom to cut offher head. This he did not at all want to do; but the cat spat and showed her teeth, and then Ebe did not dare disobey her. But when the head fell to the ground, the cat turned into a most handsome prince. He married the second princess, and as the wedding procession was on its way to church, they met a third prince who was looking for a wife, and he took the oldest princess. Then they all three celebrated their weddings so that the story went the rounds in twelve kingdoms.
“Spin, span, spun,Now our tale is done!”
“Spin, span, spun,Now our tale is done!”
“Spin, span, spun,Now our tale is done!”
NOTEThe tale of “Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill” (Bergh, No. 2, p. 19) is delightfully told. There is the timid, abidingly helpless nit-wit, and the wise and energetic cat, who is quite at home in the ancient wisdom that enables her to render trolls harmless. Their attention must be held through the night by means of some pretext, a meaningless tale, for instance, until the first ray of the rising sun falls on them, when they turn to stone, or have to burst. In the Edda this is what happens to the dwarf Alvis, so full of sinister lore.
NOTE
The tale of “Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill” (Bergh, No. 2, p. 19) is delightfully told. There is the timid, abidingly helpless nit-wit, and the wise and energetic cat, who is quite at home in the ancient wisdom that enables her to render trolls harmless. Their attention must be held through the night by means of some pretext, a meaningless tale, for instance, until the first ray of the rising sun falls on them, when they turn to stone, or have to burst. In the Edda this is what happens to the dwarf Alvis, so full of sinister lore.
John Blessomonce upon a time had gone down to Copenhagen to carry on a suit at law, for in those days one could not get justice in the land of Norroway; and if a man wanted his rights, there was nothing left for him to do but to travel to Copenhagen. This is what Blessom had done, and what his son did after him, for he, too, carried on a law-suit. Now it chanced that on Christmas Eve John had had speech with the gentleman in authority, and had attended to his business, and was going along the street in a low-spirited manner, for he was homesick. And as he went along, a man from Vaage, in a white blouse, with a knapsack, and buttons as big as silver dollars, passed him. He was a large, heavily-built man. It seemed to Blessom that he must know him; but he was walking very fast.
“You are walking very fast,” said John.
“Yes, but then I’m in a hurry,” answered the man. “I have to get back to Vaage this very evening.”
“I only wish that I could get there!” sighed John.
“You can stand on the runner of my sledge,” said the man, “for I have a horse that covers a mile in twelve steps.”
So they set out, and Blessom had all that he could do to hold fast to the runner of the sledge; for they went through weather and wind, and he could see neither heaven nor earth.
Once they stopped and rested. He could not tell exactly where it was, but when they began to hurry on again, he thought that he spied a skull on a pole. After they had gone on a while, John Blessom began to freeze.
“Alas, I forgot one of my gloves where we stopped, and now my hand is freezing!” said he.
“Well, Blessom, you’ll have to make the best of it,” said the man. “We are not far from Vaage now. When we stopped to rest we had covered half the way.”
When they crossed the Finnebridge, the man stopped and set John down.
“Now you are not far from home,” said he, “but you must promise me that you will not look around, when you hear a roaring and notice a flare of light.”
John promised, and thanked him for the quick journey. The man drove off on his way, and John crossed the hill to his home. As he went he heard a roaring in the Jutulsberg, and the path before him suddenly grew so bright that one could have picked a needle from the ground. And he forgot what he had promised, and turned his head to see what was happening. There stood the giant gate of the Jutulsberg wide open, and out of it streamed a light and radiance as of thousands of candles. In the midst of it all stood the giant, and he was the manwith whom he had driven. But from that time forward John’s head was twisted, and so it remained as long as he lived.
NOTE“The Lord of the Hill and John Blessom” (Asbjörnsen,HuldreeventyrI, p. 189. From Gudbrandsdal, told by an old peasant of the valley) is a tale of one of those kindly beings among the helpful underground folk, who nevertheless severely punish any disobedience to their command.
NOTE
“The Lord of the Hill and John Blessom” (Asbjörnsen,HuldreeventyrI, p. 189. From Gudbrandsdal, told by an old peasant of the valley) is a tale of one of those kindly beings among the helpful underground folk, who nevertheless severely punish any disobedience to their command.
Onceupon a time there was a young fellow, who was going along cracking nuts. He found a wormy one, and at the selfsame moment he met the devil. “Is it true,” said the young fellow, “that the devil can make himself as small as he likes, and can slip through the eye of a needle, as the people say?” “Yes,” answered the devil. “Well, I should certainly like to see you crawl into that nut!” said the young fellow. The devil did so. But when he had crawled through the hole, the young fellow stopped it up with a bit of wood. “Now I’ve got you!” said he, and put the nut in his pocket. After he had gone a while, he came to a smithy, and went in and asked the smith to break the nut for him. “Why, that is a mere trifle!” said the smith, took his smallest hammer, laid the nut on the anvil, and struck it; but the nut would not break. Then he took a somewhat larger hammer; but that was not heavy enough either. Then he took a still larger one, but could do nothing with it at all, and thereupon he grew angry, and took his heaviest hammer. “I’ll break you yet!” said he, and struck it with all his might. And then the nut cracked, so that half the smithy roof was carried away, and there was a crash as though the whole hut were falling in. “I believe the devilwas in that nut!” said the smith. “And so he was!” answered the young fellow.
NOTEThis getting the better of the devil, as in “The Young Fellow and the Devil” (Asbjörnsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 133, No. 30), already occurs in the fairy-tale from the “Thousand and One Nights,” where a spirit slips, not into a nut, but into a bottle, in order to show what he can do. Ibsen, too, allows Per Gynt to dwell on this fairy-tale.
NOTE
This getting the better of the devil, as in “The Young Fellow and the Devil” (Asbjörnsen and Moe, N.F.E., p. 133, No. 30), already occurs in the fairy-tale from the “Thousand and One Nights,” where a spirit slips, not into a nut, but into a bottle, in order to show what he can do. Ibsen, too, allows Per Gynt to dwell on this fairy-tale.
Onceupon a time there was a peasant who had a wheat-field, which was trampled down every Saturday night. Now the peasant had three sons, and he told each one of them to spend a Saturday night in the field, and to watch and see who trampled it down. The oldest was to make the first trial. So he lay down by the upper ridge of the field, and after he had lain there a while he fell asleep. The following morning the whole field had been trampled down, and the young fellow was unable to tell how it had happened.
Now the second son was to make the attempt; but he had the same experience. After he had lain a while he fell asleep, and in the morning he was unable to tell how the field had come to be trampled down.
Now it was the turn of John by the Ashes. He did not lie down by the upper ridge of the field; but lower down, and stayed awake. After he had lain there a while, three doves came flying along. They settled in the field, and that very moment shook off all their feathers, and turned into the most beautiful maidens one might wish to see. They danced witheach other over the whole field; and while they did so, the young fellow gathered up all their feathers. Toward morning they wanted to put on their feathers again, but could not find them anywhere. Then they were frightened, and wept and searched and searched and wept. Finally, they discovered the young fellow, and begged him to give them back their feathers. “But why do you dance in our wheat-field?” said the young fellow. “Alas, it is not our fault,” said the maidens. “The troll who has enchanted us sends us here every Saturday night to trample the field. But now give us our feathers, for morning is near.” And they begged for them in the sweetest way. “I do not know about that,” said the young fellow, “you have trampled down the field so very badly; perhaps—if I might choose and have one of you?” “That would please us,” returned the maidens, “but it would not be possible; for three trolls guard us, one with three, one with six and one with nine heads, and they kill all who come to the mountain.” But the young fellow said that one of them pleased him so very much that he would make the attempt, in spite of what they had told him. So he chose the middle one, for she seemed the most beautiful to him, and she gave him a ring and put it on his finger. And then the maidens at once put on their garments of dove feathers, and flew back across forest and hill.
When the young fellow returned home, he told what he had seen. “And now I must set out and try my luck,” said he. “I do not know whether I willreturn, but I must make the venture.” “O John, John by the Ashes!” said his brothers, and laughed at him. “Well, it makes no difference, even though I am worthless,” said John by the Ashes. “I must try my luck.” So the young fellow set out to wander to the place where the maidens lived. They had told him it was farther south than south, and farther north than north, in the great hill of gold. After he had gone a while, he met two poor lads who were quarreling with each other about a pair of old shoes and a bamboo cane, which their mother had left them. The young fellow said it was not worth quarreling about such things, and that he had better shoes and better canes at home. “You cannot say that,” returned the brothers, “for whoever has these shoes on can cover a thousand miles in a single step, and whatever is touched with this cane must die at once.” The young fellow went on to ask whether they would sell the things. They said that they ought to get a great deal for them. “But what you say of them is not true at all,” the young fellow replied. “Yes, indeed, it is absolutely true,” they answered. “Just let me see whether the boots will fit me,” said the young fellow. So they let him try them on. But no sooner did the young fellow have the boots on his feet, and the cane in his hand, than he took a step and off he was, a thousand miles away.
A little later he met two young fellows who were quarreling over an old fiddle, which had been left them. “Now is that worth while doing?” said the young fellow. “I have a brand-new fiddle at home.”“But I doubt if it has such a tone as ours,” said one of the youths, “for if some one is dead, and you play this fiddle, he will come to life again.” “That really is a good deal,” said the young fellow. “May I draw the bow across the strings?” They told him he might, but no sooner did he have the fiddle in his hand than he took a step, and suddenly he was a thousand miles away.
A little later he met an old man, and him he asked whether he knew where the place might be that was “farther south than south, and farther north than north, and in the great hill of gold.” The man said yes, he knew well enough, but it would not do the young fellow much good to get there, for the troll who lived there killed every one. “O, I have to make the attempt, whether it lead to life or death,” said the young fellow, for he was fonder than fond of the middle one of the three maidens. So he learned the way from the old man, and finally reached the hill. There he had to pass through three rooms, before he came into the hall to the maidens. And there were locks on every door, and at each stood a watchman. “Where do you want to go?” asked the first watchman. “In to the maidens,” said the young fellow. “In you may go, but you’ll not get out again,” said the watchman, “for now the troll will be along before long.” But the young fellow said that, at any rate, he would make the attempt, and went on. So he came to the second watchman. “Where do you want to go?” asked the latter. “In to the maidens,” said the young fellow.“In you may go, but you’ll not get out again,” said the watchman, “for the troll will be here any minute.” “And yet I will make the attempt,” said the young fellow, and the watchman let him pass. So he came to the third watchman. “Where do you want to go?” the latter asked him. “In to the maidens,” said the young fellow. “In you may go, but you’ll never get out again, for the troll will be here in three shakes of a lamb’s tail,” said the watchman. “And yet I will make the attempt,” said the young fellow, and this watchman also let him pass. Then he reached the inner chamber where the maidens sat. They were so beautiful and distinguished, and the room was so full of gold and silver, that the young fellow never could have imagined anything like it. Then he showed the ring, and asked whether the maidens recognized it. Indeed they did recognize him and the ring. “But you poor unfortunate, this is the end of us and of you!” said they. “The troll with three heads will be along before long, and you had better hide behind the door!” “O, I’m so frightened, I’m so frightened!” wailed the maiden whom the young fellow had chosen. “Just you stop crying,” said the young fellow. “I think fortune will favor us!”
The troll came that very moment and thrust his three heads into the door. “Uff, it smells like Christian blood here!” said he. The young fellow struck at the heads with his bamboo cane, and the troll was dead in a minute. So they carried out the body and hid it. A little later the troll with six headscame home. “Uff, it smells like Christian blood here!” said he. “Some one must have crept into the place! But what has become of the other troll?” said he, when he did not see the troll with three heads. “He has not yet come home,” said the maidens. “He must have come home,” said the troll. “Perhaps he has gone to look for the fellow who crept in here.” At that moment the young fellow struck all six of his heads with his bamboo cane, and the troll at once fell dead to the ground. Then they dragged out the corpse.
A while later came the troll with nine heads. “Uff, it smells like Christian blood here!” said he, and grew very angry. “But where are the two others?” said he. “They have not yet come home,” said the maidens. “Indeed they have come,” said the troll, “but they are probably looking for the Christian who has crept in here!” At that moment, the young fellow sprang from behind the door, and struck one head after another with his bamboo cane. But he had no more than reached the eighth than it seemed to him that the troll was getting the upper hand, and he ran out of the door. The troll was so furious that he came near bursting. He seized all the maidens and killed them, and then out he flew after the young fellow. The latter had hidden behind a big rock, and when the troll came darting up, showering sparks in his rage, he struck at his ninth head, too, and the troll fell on his back, dead. Then the young fellow ran in again, took his fiddle and played, and all the maidens came back to life.Now they wanted to go home; but did not know how to find the long road back. “I know what we must do,” said the young fellow, “I will take you on my back, one by one, and then the journey will not be long for us.” And this he did. He carried home all the gold and silver he found in the hill, and then celebrated his wedding with the middle one of the maidens, and if they have not died, they are living this very day.
NOTE“Farther South Than South, and Farther North Than North, and in the Great Hill of Gold” (Janson, No. 12, p. 39) begins with the story of three maidens in feather dress who have to keep their human form if robbed of their feathers. The legend of Wieland and Smith introduces three similar maidens in swan’s plumage, one of whom he wins for himself; yet when she finds her swan dress again after long years, yearning overpowers her, and she flies away. Our fairy-tale is kindlier, and allows the young fellow to gain his dove princess after strenuous adventures.
NOTE
“Farther South Than South, and Farther North Than North, and in the Great Hill of Gold” (Janson, No. 12, p. 39) begins with the story of three maidens in feather dress who have to keep their human form if robbed of their feathers. The legend of Wieland and Smith introduces three similar maidens in swan’s plumage, one of whom he wins for himself; yet when she finds her swan dress again after long years, yearning overpowers her, and she flies away. Our fairy-tale is kindlier, and allows the young fellow to gain his dove princess after strenuous adventures.
Therewas once a rich peasant who had two sons, named John Nicholas and Lucky Andrew. The oldest was one of those fellows of whom one never can quite make head or tail. He was a most unpleasant customer to deal with, and he was more grasping and greedy than the folk of the Northland are, as a rule, though it is only too rare to find them unblessed with these attractive qualities. The other, Lucky Andrew, was wild and high spirited, but always good natured, and no matter how badly off he might be, he would always insist that he had been born under a lucky star. When the eagle, in order to defend his nest, belabored his head and face till the blood ran, he would still maintain that he was born under a lucky star, if only he managed to bring home a single eaglet. Did his boat capsize, which occasionally happened, and did they discover him hanging to it, quite overcome with the water, cold and exertion, and asked him how he felt, he would reply: “O, quite well. I have been saved. I surely am in luck!”
When their father died, both of them were of age, and not long after they both had to go out to the sand-banks to fetch some fishing-nets, which hadbeen left there since the summer fishing. It was late in the fall, after the time when most fishermen are busy with the summer fishing. Andrew had his gun along, which he carried with him wherever he went. John Nicholas did not say much while they were underway; but he thought all the harder. They were not ready to set out for home again until near evening.
“Hark, Lucky Andrew, do you know there will be a storm to-night?” said John Nicholas, and looked out across the sea. “I think it would be best if we stayed here until morning!”
“There’ll be no storm,” said Andrew. “The Seven Sisters have not put on their fog-caps, so you may be quite at rest.”
But his brother complained of being weary, and at length they decided to remain there for the night. When Andrew awoke he found himself alone; and he saw neither brother nor boat, until he came to the highest point of the island. Then he discovered him far out, darting for land like a sea-gull. Andrew did not understand the whole affair. There were still provisions there, as well as a dish of curd, his gun and various other things. So Andrew wasted but little time in thought. “He will come back this evening,” said he. “Only a fool loses heart so long as he can eat.” But in the evening there was no brother to be seen, and Andrew waited day by day, and week by week; until at last, he realized that his brother had marooned him on this barren island in order to be able to keep their inheritancefor himself, and not have to divide it. And such was the case, for when John Nicholas came in sight of land on his homeward trip, he had capsized the boat, and declared that Lucky Andrew had been drowned.
But the latter did not lose heart. He gathered drift-wood along the strand, shot sea-birds, and looked for mussels and roots. He built himself a raft of drift-timber, and fished with a pole that had also been left behind. One day, while he was at work, he happened to notice a depression or hollow in the sand, as though made by the keel of a large Northland schooner, and he could plainly trace the braidings of the hawsers from the strand up to the top of the island. Then he thought to himself that he was in no danger, for he saw there was truth in the report he had often heard, that the meer-folk made the island their abode, and did much business with their ships.
“God be praised for good company! That was just what I needed. Yes, it is true, as I have always said, that I was born under a lucky star,” thought Andrew to himself; perhaps he said so too, for occasionally he really had to talk a little. So he lived through the fall. Once he saw a boat, and hung a rag on a pole and waved with it; but that very moment the sail dropped, and the crew took to the oars and rowed away at top speed, for they thought the meer-trolls were making signs and waving.
On Christmas Eve Andrew heard fiddles and music far out at sea; and when he came out, he sawa glow of light that came from a great Northland schooner, which was gliding toward the land—yet such a ship he had never yet seen. It has a main-sail of uncommon size, which looked to him to be of silk, and the most delicate tackling, as thin as though woven of steel wire, and everything else was in proportion, as fine and handsome as any Northlander might wish to have. The whole schooner was filled with little people dressed in blue, but the girl who stood at the helm was adorned like a bride, and looked as splendid as a queen, for she wore a crown and costly garments. Yet any one could see that she was a human being, for she was tall, and handsomer than the meer-folk. In fact, Lucky Andrew thought that she was handsomer than any girl he ever had seen. The schooner headed for the land where Andrew stood; but with his usual presence of mind, he hurried to the fisherman’s hut, pulled down his gun from the wall, and crept up into the large loft and hid himself, so that he could see all that passed in the hut. He soon noticed that the whole room was alive with people. They filled it completely and more, and still more of them came in. Then the walls began to crack, and the little hut spread out at all corners, and grew so splendid and magnificent that the wealthiest merchant could not have had its equal; it was almost like being in a royal castle. Tables were covered with the most exquisite silver and gold. When they had eaten they began to dance. Under cover of the noise, Andrew crept to the look-out at the side of the roof, and climbed down. Thenhe ran to the schooner, threw his flint-stone over it, and in order to make certain, cut a cross into it with his sharp-cutting knife. When he came back again, the dance was in full swing. The tables were dancing and the benches and chairs—everything else in the room was dancing, too. The only one who did not dance was the bride; she only sat there and looked on, and when the bridegroom came to fetch her, she sent him away. For the moment there was no thought of stopping. The fiddler knew neither rest nor repose, and did not pass his cap, but played merrily on with his left hand, and beat time with his foot, until he was dripping with sweat, and the fiddle was hidden by the dust and smoke. When Andrew noticed that his own feet began to twitch where he was standing, he thought to himself: “Now I had better shoot away, or else he will play me right off the ground!” So he turned his gun, thrust it through the window, and shot it off over the bride’s head; but upside down, otherwise the bullet would have hit him. The moment the shot crashed, all the troll-folk tumbled out of the door together; but when they saw that the schooner was banned on the shore, they wailed and crept into a hole in the hill. But all the gold and silver dishes were left behind, and the bride, too, was still sitting there. She told Lucky Andrew that she had been carried into the hill when she was only a small child. Once, when her mother had gone to the pen to attend to the milking, she had taken her along; but when she had to go home for a moment, she left the child sittingunder a juniper-bush, and told her that she might eat the berries if she only repeated three times:
“I eat juniper-berries blue,Wherein Jesu’s cross I view.I eat whortle-berries red,Since ’twas for my sake He bled!”
“I eat juniper-berries blue,Wherein Jesu’s cross I view.I eat whortle-berries red,Since ’twas for my sake He bled!”
“I eat juniper-berries blue,Wherein Jesu’s cross I view.I eat whortle-berries red,Since ’twas for my sake He bled!”
But after her mother had gone, she found so many berries that she forgot to say her verse, and so she was enchanted and taken into the hill. And there no harm had been done her, save that she had lost the top joint of the little finger of her left hand, and the goblins had been kind to her; yet it had always seemed to her as though something were not as it should be, she felt as though something weighed upon her, and she had suffered greatly from the advances of the dwarf who had been chosen for her husband. When Andrew learned who her mother and her people were, he saw that they were related to him, and they became very good friends. So Andrew could truly say he had been born under a lucky star. Then they sailed home, and took along the schooner, and all the gold and silver, and all the treasure which had been left in the hut, and then Andrew was far wealthier than his brother.
But the latter, who suspected where all this wealth had come from, did not wish to be any poorer than Andrew. He knew that trolls and goblins walk mainly on Christmas Eve, and for that reason he sailed out to the sand banks at that time. And onChristmas Eve he did see a light or fire, but it seemed to be like will-o’-the-wisps fluttering about. When he came nearer he heard splashes, horrible howls, and cold, piercing cries, and there was a smell of slime and sea-weed, as at ebb-tide. Terrified, he ran up into the hut, from whence he could see the trolls on the shore. They were short and thick like hay-ricks, completely covered with fur, with kirtles of skins, fishing boots, and enormous fist-gloves. In place of head and hair they had bundles of sea-weed. When they crawled up from the strand there was a gleam behind them like that of rotting wood, and when they shook themselves they showered sparks about them. When they drew nearer, John Nicholas crawled up into the loft as his brother had done. The goblins dragged a great stone into the hut, and began to beat their gloves dry against it, and meanwhile they screamed so that John Nicholas’s blood turned to ice in his hiding-place. Then one of them sneezed into the ashes on the hearth in order to make the fire burn again; while the others carried in heather-grass and drift-wood, as coarse and heavy as lead. The smoke and the heat nearly killed the eavesdropper in the loft, and in order to catch his breath and get some fresh air, he tried to crawl out of the look-out in the roof; yet he was of much heavier build than his brother, stuck fast and could move neither in nor out. Then he grew frightened and began to scream; but the goblins screamed much louder, and roared and howled, and thumped and clamored inside and outside the hut. But when thecock crowed they disappeared, and John Nicholas freed himself, too. Yet when he returned home from his trip, he had lost his reason, and after that the same cold, sinister screams which are the mark of the troll in the Northland, might often be heard sounding from store-rooms and lofts where he happened to be. Before his death, however, his reason returned, and he was buried in consecrated ground, as they say. But after that time no human foot ever trod the sand-banks again. They sank, and the meer-folk, it is believed, went to the Lekang Islands. Andrew’s luck held good; no ship made more successful trips than his own; but whenever he came to the Lekang Islands he lay becalmed—the goblins went aboard or ashore with their goods—but after a time he had fair winds, whether he happened to want to go to Bergen, or sail home. He had many children, and all of them were bright and vigorous, yet every one of them lacked the upper joint of the little finger of his left hand.
NOTE“Lucky Andrew” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 286. From Heligoland) is one of a type which is a favorite character in the fairy-tale, care-free, brave and always happy, though he dwells in awful loneliness in the midst of the sea, and comes across the most sinister goblins.
NOTE
“Lucky Andrew” (Asbjörnsen,Huldreeventyr, I, p. 286. From Heligoland) is one of a type which is a favorite character in the fairy-tale, care-free, brave and always happy, though he dwells in awful loneliness in the midst of the sea, and comes across the most sinister goblins.
Onceupon a time there was a pastor who was such a boor that when any one was driving toward him along the highway, he would shout to them, while still some distance off: “Get out of the way! Get out of the pastor’s way!” One day, while he was doing this, along came the king. “Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” shouted the pastor. But the king drove as he had a mind to, and he drove so fast that this time it was the pastor who had to get out of the way, and when the king passed him, he called out: “See that you come to me at the castle to-morrow, and if you cannot answer three questions I put to you, then you will have to take off your pastor’s gown as a punishment for your arrogance!”
This sounded different from what the pastor was used to hearing. Shout and bluster, and completely forget himself in his arrogance, that he knew how to do; but returning a plain answer to a plain question was not his strong point. So he went to the sexton, who was supposed to have more in his upper story than the pastor. He told him he did not venture to go to the castle, because “a fool can ask more than ten wise men can answer,” said he, and he induced the sexton to go in his stead.
The sexton set forth, and came to the castle dressed in the pastor’s gown and ruff. The king received him out in the entrance with crown and scepter, and was so splendidly dressed that he fairly gleamed and shone.
“Well, are you here?” Yes, indeed, there he was. “First tell me,” said the king, “the distance from East to West.” “It is one day’s journey,” said the sexton.
“And how is that?” asked the king. “Well, the sun rises in the East and goes down in the West, and manages to do so nicely in the course of a single day,” said the sexton.
“Good,” said the king, “but now tell me how much I am worth, just as I stand.”
“Well, if our Lord Christ himself was valued at thirty pieces of silver, then I can hardly value you at more than twenty-nine,” said the sexton.
“Well and good,” said the king, “but since you are so wondrous wise, tell me what I am thinking now.”
“Ah, my lord king, you are probably thinking that this is the pastor who is standing before you, but there you are greatly mistaken, for I am the sexton.”
“Then drive straight home, and be the pastor, and the pastor shall be the sexton,” said the king, and that is what happened, too.