In early times there lived in Soåsan, a range of hills not far from the
well-known city of Eksjö, a woman Troll who was called Dame Soåsan. She
and her forefathers had, for ages, dwelt there, but when the soldiers
came and fired their guns—cracked their nuts, as the mountain folk
expressed it—on the camp ground of Ränneslätt, the place became
intolerable to her and she departed to her sister’s, an equally
distinguished Troll, who lived in Skurugata, which has been mentioned
in a preceding story.
Dame Soåsan was very clever and rich, also the possessor of a very bad
temper. It was advisable, therefore, not to anger her in any way, for
such as were so unfortunate were instantly punished.
A trooper of that time, belonging to the Hussars of Småland, by name
Grevendal, serving under Apelarp in Flisby parish, stood one morning on
guard in a distant part of the drill grounds, when he saw, wandering
toward him, along the edge of a wood, a very little old woman, whom he
rashly assailed with scoffing and vile epithets, whereupon he received
a blow on the ear from some unseen hand, which sent him flying to the
top of a tall pine tree near by, where he remained unable to descend
until assisted down by his comrades.
Toward those who were careful not to offend her the woman exhibited
much kindness and extended many favors. A poor old woman of the human
family living near Soåsan, in a little hut, was one time in great
distress, her table bare and no one near to help her, with famine,
already a guest in her hut, menacing her with terrible glare.
Late one evening a knock was heard upon the hut door.
“Come in, in the name of the Lord,” answered the old woman, wondering
who her visitor might be.
“In that name I can not enter, but here is work for you from the
mistress of the mountain. Spin beautiful yarn, but do not wet the
threads with spittle, for then it will become christened and that the
madam will not tolerate.”
“Where shall I leave the yarn?” asked the trembling woman.
“Go straight forward into the woods, where you will find a smooth green
lawn. Lay the yarn there and next day you shall have your pay.”
The old woman began at once to spin the flax which she found outside
the cottage door, but during the work stood a vessel of water beside
her with which to wet the thread.
The yarn was soon finished and she betook herself, with profit and
pleasure in prospect, to the wood. As the Troll’s servant maid had
declared she came to a beautiful glade encircled by high trees. She
there laid down the yarn and hastened to return home, not daring to
look behind her. The next day she went again to the spot and found a
new bundle of flax, also several silver pieces.
Now followed a period of prosperity for the poor woman. She accumulated
money from her work, became rich, but at the same time avaricious, and
forgot the prayers, which she had never before neglected, when she
retired to rest.
Finally, she did not even trouble herself to keep faith with the
Trolls, but spun the yarn according to general custom, wetting the
thread with her spittle.
The skeins of yarn were deposited in the usual place, but when she went
the next day to get her reward she was unable to find the glade again,
and in the end went astray in the woods, from which she did not succeed
in finding her way home before a whole day later. Upon arriving home,
as was her every-day custom, she brought forth and was about to count
over her money, when she found that all the silver pieces had been
transformed into small stones.
Want pursued her now with greater severity than ever, for none would
help one who was known to have had to do with the infamous Soåsan dame,
and the old woman died shortly after in great poverty and distress.
A girl who many years ago was a servant in the house of a Senator of
Eksjö, named Lind, went one day to find the cattle, which usually
grazed in the woods surrounding Soåsan. The animals, for some time
back, had not thrived upon the pastures allotted them and were wont to
wander far away in search of food, it was supposed, so, at times the
girl, notwithstanding the most diligent search, was unable to find
them, and when they were found, the cows had already been milked. This
day she went plodding sadly along through the dark woods, thinking of
the scolding which awaited her at home, when she returned with neither
cows nor milk; her mind was also busied with the many stories she had
heard about ghosts and Trolls who infested the woods, when she saw two
pair of Pigmies, a boy and girl, sitting under the shadow of a large
pine tree.
“It is best to be polite when on the Trolls’ own ground,” thought the
girl. Whereupon she addressed the Troll infants in a very friendly
manner and invited each to partake of some bread and butter which she
had with her in her little bag. The children ate with exceeding greed,
a disgusting sight, as they had extremely large mouths into which the
bread and butter vanished rapidly. When the girl was about to depart
she heard a voice saying, “As you have taken pity on my children, you
shall hereafter escape searching after the cows. Go home! They stand at
the gate.”
From that day the girl no longer had to search for the cows; they came
to the gate every night of their own accord, sweet-laden with a rich
tribute of the most excellent milk.