[1] Spare the trouble.
At the north end of the Bergstadt[2] Lautenthal lies the Bielstein.
[2] Mining town.
Below, at the north-west end of the town, the little river Innerste
flows northward towards the Bielstein, and along its base.
Above this bend in the stream, where it turns to flow along the base,
only a few steps from the stream, is a cave called the Zwergloch, or
Dwarf-cave.
The level place at the foot of the Bielstein bears the name of
Spar-die-Müh.
In the cave dwelt in earlier times three dwarfs, who often lent the
people of Lautenthal money, and also gold and silver plate for
weddings and baptisms.
Now it happened once that these borrowed objects were not returned.
So when the people came again to borrow, they heard a voice call,
"Spar-die-Müh!"
And from that time the dwarfs declined to oblige the neglectful
citizens in any way, and since then the place has been called
Spar-die-Müh.
The Dwarf-King Hibich.
The Hibichenstein, near Grand, consists of two colossal limestone
cliffs leaning against each other, which are said to have been formed
in the distant days when giants lived in the Hercynia Sylva,[1] from
a pebble which a giant threw out of his shoe.
[1] The Hercynia Sylva of the Romans was of greater extent than the
Harz mountains. It included the Schwarzwald, Thuringen, Bohemia, and
the Harz.
In the Hibichenstein dwelt dwarfs, who often attended the children in
Grund.
Their King Hibich was ages old, with shaggy hair like a bear, a very
wrinkled face, and a long ice-grey beard, which possessed magical
power.
He always carried a silver miner's lamp that shone clear as the sun,
and wore a golden crown.
Although so small, he could stretch himself much larger.
Formerly his dwarf majesty was allowed to appear in the upper world
every five hundred years, but he is no longer permitted to leave his
subterranean abode.
He protected the forests, and played serious jokes upon those who did
them any injury. But he was benevolent and kind to those in distress
who complained to him of their trouble.
Once a miner's wife, whose husband had long lain ill, went from Grund
into the wood to gather cones for the baker, who gave her bread for
them.
When she had entered the forest, Hibich came to her and asked: "What
seekest thou here?"
Then she told him all her want and distress, whereupon he gave her a
plant to cure her husband, and pointed out to her a spot where she
would find plenty of cones.
Arrived there, she could at first find none, but directly the cones
began to fall in showers from the trees, not striking her, however,
but all falling into the basket.
When she lifted the basket to put it on her back, she found it much
heavier than the cones had ever been before.
Returning to the spot where the King had first met her, he asked her
if she had found cones. Then she told him what had happened, and the
Dwarf-King revealed to her that his people had done it, and added the
cones were pure silver.
He told her she was to take a sufficient number of them to make
herself and her sick husband comfortable, and to provide for her
children, and with the rest she was to build a church in Grund; but
by no means to forget the healing plant.
The sick man became "healthy as a fish" from the hour when he made
use of this powerful herb.
In the forester's house in Grund lived in the olden days a forester
who had lost his wife early, and had an only son, a good-hearted
youth, only somewhat over-inquisitive and indiscreet.
One Sunday afternoon the forester's son, with his friend, the son of
a miner, went into the wood for a walk.
As they reached the Hibichstein they fell into a conversation
concerning its height, and the miner's son said he should like to see
the person who could climb to the top.
The other said that was nothing, he would do it; but his friend
endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose, saying no one who had
climbed up could ever get down again, but was always found the next
day broken to pieces at the base.
He was not be dissuaded, and climbed to the summit, where he found a
large level space, and began to dance and shout for joy, and called
to his friend to climb up. But the other shook his head, and told
him not to forget he had to come down.
Finally, when his joy had cooled, the forester's son decided to
descend, but could not leave the spot, for the Dwarf-King Hibich held
him enchanted to the rock for his presumption.
He called to his friend and entreated him to go and tell his father.
Then the forester came with his gun and would shoot his son down.
But as he was about to fire, came Hibich and demanded what he was
going to do; and as he replied he was going to shoot his son down
from the mountain, the King advised him not to attempt anything so
foolish.
Again he took aim, when it began to thunder and lighten, and the rain
poured down in torrents.
Night came on, and the forester was obliged to go home till morning.
Hardly had he gone when the dwarfs arrived, all in miners' dress, and
each carrying a mine-lamp.
They had the most skilful ladders, which they placed one on the
other, and now they held together as if they had been glued.
As soon as this ladder was ready, and reached the top of the
Hibichenstein, a dwarf stood at each side and lighted the way.
The forester's son must now seat himself on the shoulders of the
dwarf on the topmost rung of the ladder; and see! the ladder is wide
enough to permit them to descend between the thick line of
lamp-bearing dwarfs on either hand.
No sooner had they reached the base than dwarfs, lights, and ladder
had vanished.
Then came the old Hibich, took him by the hand, and said: "As thou
hast been on the summit of the Hibichenstein, and hast suffered so
much anxiety and terror, thou shalt also see the Dwarf-King's castle."
Then they entered through a great arched door into the mountain, and
the King conducted him to a large room, where stood chairs and a
table.
The walls glittered with pure ore, the ceiling was a single piece of
ponderous spar, white as the driven snow, and from it hung a
chandelier of mountain crystal and precious stones.
The floor was strewed with branches of firs, and the panels shimmered
with gold and jewels.
In the centre of this superb chamber stood a table of hematite;
before it a silver chair, upon which the Dwarf-King seated himself,
and commanded his companion also to sit down.
Then he struck with a silver rapier upon the table of hematite, which
produced a tone the sweetness of which was never heard before.
A thousand tiny female forms appeared in answer to the summons,
bearing strawberries and raspberries; and while the King and his
guest partook of the fruit, the dwarf maidens played the most
delicious music.
Afterward costly wine was brought in silver goblets.
When the repast was ended, Hibich led his young visitor into an
adjoining chamber, on one side of which was silver, on the other
gold, and at the royal command, "Silver!" "Gold!" the forester's son
must take of the metal named till he was laden with wealth.
Then the Dwarf-King said: "Wilt thou do me a favour? Namely, never
to permit any one to shoot at birds on the Hibichenstein; for in this
way bits of the rock are broken off.
"As long as the great Hibichenstein remains the great, my crown is
secure; but so soon as it becomes the little Hibichenstein, I lose my
crown, and can never appear on the earth again."
The youth promised, and Hibich conducted him to another chamber,
where stood a delicious bed of fragrant moss, wished him Gute Nacht,
and promised to wake him early.
The forester's son had slept but a short time, as it seemed to him,
when he was waked up suddenly. It was early dawn, and he shivered,
exclaiming, "How cold it is!"
He lay under a bush at the foot of the Hibichenstein, but all the
gold and silver that the Dwarf-King Hibich had given him was heaped
up beside him.
The King of Tipplers.
A legend is told in Ellrich of an Earl von Klettenberg--not the
devout founder of the Huy Wald Abbey, whose forsaken wife built
Kloster Walkenried.
The Earl rode one Sunday morning to Ellrich, as an invited guest to a
grand banquet, where all the guests were to drink for a wager, the
reward being a chain of gold.
They drank for hours, till all were _hors de combat_ save four
knights.
Three of these leaned against the wall, and only the Earl von
Klettenberg stood upright; to him, therefore, the victory was awarded.
He resolved to show himself to the people as the winner, and
commanded his horse to be brought. Four of his attendants lifted the
Earl into the saddle, and he rode through the village.
As he reached the St. Nicholas Church, he heard the chanting of
vespers, rode through the open door into the church, and spurred on
his horse till he had ridden through the congregation, whose
vesper-chant changed to terror and dismay.
But as he reached the steps of the altar, all the four horse-shoes
fell off, and the horse and his rider sank to the ground.
The four huge horse-shoes were nailed to the church door, where they
remained for centuries, and the awful tale was oft related to
trembling listeners.
At last a fire destroyed the church, and the four horse-shoes are
unhappily lost.