CANTO XX

ARMAGEDDON

The news of the invasion had brought the feast to a sudden end, and the

Kalevide consulted with his friends, and proposed to bury his treasure,

thinking it might otherwise be insecure. So at dead of night the

Kalevide, Alevide, and Sulevide dug a deep pit in a secret place. Then

the Kalevide solemnly delivered over the treasure to Taara's

protection, and declared that no one should obtain it but the son of a

pure mother, who should come to the spot on St. John's Eve, and should

sacrifice three black animals without a white hair upon them—a black

cock with a curled comb, a black dog or cat, and a mole. Then he

murmured secret spells over the treasure; but the man is not yet born

who shall raise it.

When the morning dawned, the son of Kalev took his spear and

sword, mounted his war-horse, and

[Pg 136]

ordered the Alevide to follow him as his shield-bearer. Then

he blew his horn, and set his forces in battle array. The

sound of the horn echoed through city and forest, and was

heard in every province of Esthonia,

[99] and the people flocked to the king at the summons. The

women wept and lamented, but their husbands, sons, brothers,

and lovers went forth to the war. The Kalevide assembled his

army in the sacred oak-forest of Taara, and a bird advised him

to sharpen his sword and spear before the fight. By the fifth

evening the last stragglers had come in, and the Kalevide

allowed his men two days' longer rest. On the third day

thereafter the battle began in earnest, and the Kalevide fought

against the mailed warriors for half a day, when his horse was

killed under him.

Hundreds were slain on both sides, and at last the Sulevide

fell severely wounded. The soothsayer was summoned hastily, and

adjured the blood to cease flowing:

[100]

Quickly came the man of wisdom,

Who should charm the blood from flowing

And should still the pain by magic.

[Pg 137]

"Flow thou not, O blood, like water;

Still thee, blood, of life the honey;

Wherefore thus thy source o'erflowing,

Breaking thus the bonds that hold thee?

Let the blood as stone be hardened,

Firm as oak-tree let it stiffen;

In the stone-like veins around it,

Let the blood be stanched, O Taara!"

But the blood continued to flow, and then the magician used stronger

spells, pressed his fingers on the wound to stop the bleeding, and tied

up the limb with red thread, afterwards applying healing herbs.

Meantime the Kalevide had routed the enemy and dispersed them over the

plain in flight, the dead being piled up in heaps behind them. But the

hero was weary and overcome with heat and thirst, and went to a lake,

which he drained to the last drop, leaving only the mud at the bottom.

Three days were given to the burial of the dead and the care of the

wounded, and then the Kalevide set out in pursuit of the enemy. Olev

built a bridge over the Võhanda according to the Kalevide's directions,

and presently the army fell in with a murderous host of Tartars, Poles,

and Letts, who were ravaging the neighbourhood of Pleskau.

Another great battle was fought, and the Kale

[Pg 138]

vide slaughtered his enemies till their bodies lay in heaps a

fathom high about the field, and the blood was five spans deep.

The battle lasted for seven days, and many notable chiefs were

slain, among whom was the son of Sulev, who had been so

severely wounded in a previous battle. The Tartars and Poles

had now been slain or put to flight, and the Kalevide gathered

together the remnants of his army to attack the Vends, and

ordered the Alevide to break their centre.

The fight with the Vends lasted two days longer, and again vast

numbers were slain on both sides. A great mound was raised on

the battlefield over the grave of the Sulevide in memory of the

fallen hero. The three remaining heroes, the Kalevide, the

Alevide, and Olev, stood like towers against the attacks of the

mailed warriors; but at last they were overcome by thirst, and

went to a lake in a valley, with steep high banks, to drink.

The Alevide, who was very weary, stooped down to drink, when

his foot slipped, and he fell into the water, and was drowned

before his friends could recover his body. In the bright

sunshine his huge iron helmet and his three-edged sword may

still be seen gleaming at the bottom of the water.

[Pg 139]

The Kalevide was so overcome with grief at this last misfortune

that he abandoned his kingdom, abdicating in favour of Olev,

and retired to the pine-forests on the banks of the river

Koiva, where he built a cottage and thought to dwell in peace

and retirement. Here he lived alone, supporting himself on fish

and crayfish. One day a party of armed men found their way to

his hermitage, and invited him to join company with them. He

turned his back on them contemptuously, when he saw in the

water the reflection of one of them advancing with his sword

drawn to murder him.

[101] He turned angrily on his foes with an indignant

exclamation, and seizing one of them by the helmet, whirled him

round, and the air sounded as if disturbed by the rush of the

Northern eagle. Then he dashed him down so that he sank to his

waist in the ground. He seized the second by the hand, and

swung him round till the forest was shaken as if by a tempest,

and him he sank to the cheeks in the ground. The third he

seized in the same way, and drove him so far into the ground

that nothing could

[Pg 140]

be seen of him but the hole where he had disappeared.

Another time the Kalevide was troubled by a messenger sent by the

merchants on the coast to invite him to visit them. After listening to

his talk for some time, he told him to pull up the rod which he had

baited for crayfish, and after he had eaten, they might discuss the

matter further. The youth went down to the river bank, and found, to

his amazement, that the rod was a tall fir-tree, which the Kalevide had

torn up by the roots, but which the youth could not even move. Then the

Kalevide lifted the rod with one hand, and showed the youth that it was

baited with the whole carcass of a dead mare; and sent him about his

business, telling him to report what he had seen.

These intrusions vexed the Kalevide, and he wandered away from

his hermitage through the forests, and three days afterwards he

reached Lake Peipus, without remembering that he had ever

travelled the same way before. Singing gaily, he came to the

brook Käpä, and waded in. The hero had laid an injunction on

his lost sword which he had intended to apply to the sorcerer

who had robbed him of it; but the understanding

[Pg 141]

of the sword was confused by the curse which the Finnish smith

had previously laid upon it, and it reflected that now was the

time for vengeance. So without more ado the great sword raised

itself, and cut off both the hero's legs at the knee. He cried

out for help, and dragged himself with his hands to the shore,

where he lay down bleeding, his legless body covering a whole

acre of ground.

The cries of the dying Kalevide rose above the clouds and ascended to

heaven. The heavenly powers assembled round the hero, and vainly tried

to salve his wounds and soothe his pain. Presently he expired, and his

soul, like a joyful bird, took its flight to the halls of Taara in

heaven. There he sat in the firelight among the heroes of Taara,

resting his cheek on his hand, and listening to the bards as they sang

of his great deeds.

But the old father of the gods knew that so great a hero, who

had conquered all his enemies in battle, and had bound even the

prince of Põrgu in chains, could not remain idle in heaven. So

he summoned all the gods in secret conclave to consider what

work they should assign to the Kalevide, and the debate lasted

for many days and nights. At last they determined that he

[Pg 142]

should keep watch and ward at the gates of Põrgu, so that

Sarvik should never be able to free himself from his bonds.

So the soul of the Kalevide flew down from heaven like a bird,

and was bidden to reanimate his body; but the might of all the

gods, and even the divine wisdom of Taara, could not put his

legs on again. Then they mounted him on a white charger,

[102] and sent him to the post which had been assigned to him

at the gates of Põrgu.

When the Kalevide reached the rocky portal, a voice was heard

from heaven, "Strike the rock with thy fist!" He did so, and

clove open the rock, and his right hand was caught in the

cleft.

[Pg 143]

Here he sits now on his horse at the gates of Põrgu, watching

the bonds of others while bound himself. The demons attempt

unceasingly to soften their chains by heaping up charcoal

faggots around them, but when the cock crows at dawn their

fetters grow thicker again. From time to time, too, the

Kalevide struggles to free his hand from the wall of rock,

till the earth trembles and the sea foams; but the hand of

Mana

[103] holds him, that the warder shall never depart from his

post. But one day a vast fire will break out on both sides of

the rock and melt it, when the Kalevide will withdraw his hand,

and return to earth to inaugurate a new day of prosperity for

the Esthonians.

[104]

END OF THE KALEVIPOEG.

[Pg 145]

PART II

Esthonian Folk-Tales

These are very numerous, and, while some are of course

identical with well-known stories of world-wide distribution,

others have a peculiarly original character of their own. We

have divided them into sections, but this classification must

not be taken as too stringent, for many tales would fall

equally well under two or three of our separate headings. In so

far as any foreign elements are visible, they are apparently

Scandinavian or German. Finnish tales show more trace of

Russian influence, but there is seldom any visible in Esthonian

tales, and even in the _Kalevipoeg_ there is no resemblance to

the Russian hero-legends. It is, however, noteworthy that even

in the most heathenish tales, the heroes usually have names of

[Pg 146]

Christian origin; though not in the _Kalevipoeg_. It is

possible that the Gospel of Nicodemus, which describes the

descent into hell, may have suggested the name of Nicodemus

for Slyboots.

[Pg 147]

SECTION I

_TALES ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE "KALEVIPOEG"_

The following stories are thoroughly Esthonian in character, and, with

the exception of the first, mostly exhibit variants of the Kalevide's

journeys to Põrgu.

That of "Slyboots" is also interesting from the resemblance of a

portion of it to "Jack and the Beanstalk."

THE MILKY WAY.

( Jannsen .)

Soon after the creation of the world, God created a fair maiden

and gave into her charge all the birds beneath the heavens.

This was Lindu, the lovely daughter of Uko, who knew the paths

of all the birds of passage, whence they came in spring, and

whither they went in autumn, and appointed to each his

dwelling. She cared for the birds with

[Pg 148]

a tender heart, like a mother for her children, and gave them

her aid whenever it was possible; and like a flower in the

morning sunlight under a thousand dewdrops, so brightly shone

Lindu in her motherly care for the birds.

Therefore was it not surprising that all gazed upon her and loved her.

Every one desired the maiden as a wife, and suitors came in crowds. The

North Star drove up in a grand coach drawn by six brown horses, and

brought ten presents. But Lindu gave him a sharp answer. "You must

always remain at your post, and cannot stir from it," said she.

Then came the Moon in a silver coach drawn by ten brown horses, and he

brought twenty presents. But Lindu refused the Moon too. "You are much

too changeable," said she, "and yet you always run in your old path,

and that won't suit me."

Scarcely had the Moon taken a sorrowful departure than the Sun

drove up. He rode in a golden coach drawn by twenty gold-red

horses, and brought thirty presents with him. But all his

splendour and magnificence and rich presents went for nothing;

for Lindu said, "I don't like you.

[Pg 149]

You always run on the same course day by day, just like the

Moon."

At length the Northern Light came from midnight in a diamond coach

drawn by a thousand white horses. His arrival was so splendid that

Lindu went to the door to meet him. His attendants carried a whole

coach-load of gold and silver, pearls, and jewellery into her house.

And behold, the bridegroom and his presents pleased Lindu so much that

she accepted him at once, saying, "You don't always travel the same

path, like the others. You set out when you will, and rest when it

pleases you. Each time you appear in new splendour and magnificence,

and each time you don a new robe, and each time you ride in a new coach

with new horses. You are the fitting bridegroom, whom one can receive

with joy."

Now they celebrated their betrothal with great splendour. But the Sun,

Moon, and Pole Star looked on sadly, and envied the happiness of the

Northern Light.

The Northern Light could not tarry long in the bride's house,

for he was obliged to journey back towards midnight. But before

his departure he promised soon to return for the wedding, and

to carry

[Pg 150]

the maiden to his home in the North. In the meantime she was

to prepare her trousseau and get everything ready for the

wedding.

Lindu now waited and made everything ready. One day followed another,

but the bridegroom came not to hold a joyous wedding with his bride.

The winter passed away, and the warm spring adorned the earth with new

beauty, then came the summer; but Lindu waited in vain for her

bridegroom; nothing was seen of him.

Then she began to lament bitterly, and sorrowed day and night. She sat

in the meadow by the river in her bridal robes and white veil and the

wreath on her head, and from her thousand tears sprang the little

brooks in the valley. She did not heed the little birds who flew about

her head and shoulders, and sought to soothe her with their soft

blandishments, nor did she remember to direct their migrations to

foreign parts, and to care for their nurture and food. So they wandered

about and flew from place to place, not knowing what to do or where to

remain.

At length the news of the maiden's distress and the needs of

the birds came to the ears of Uko. Then he resolved in his

heart to help them all,

[Pg 151]

and ordered the winds to carry his daughter to him, away from

the misery of the world. While Lindu was sitting on the ground

weeping and lamenting, the winds sank down before her, and

lifted her so gently that she herself perceived it not, and

bore her away to heaven, where they set her down on the blue

firmament.

There dwells Lindu still in a heavenly pavilion. Her white

bridal veil spreads from one end of the heavens to the other,

and he who lifts his eyes to the Milky Way beholds the maiden

in her bridal robes. From thence she still directs the birds on

their long migrations; from thence she still gazes towards

midnight at the other end of the heavens, and waves her hand in

greeting to the Northern Light. There she has forgotten her

sorrow, and her former happy life reawakens in her heart. And

when winter approaches, she sees with joy that the Northern

Light visits her as a guest, and asks after his bride. Often he

rises up to her, and, heart to heart, renews the bond of their

love. But they may not hold their wedding. Uko has stationed

the maiden in the heavens with her bridal robe and veil, and

the bridegroom cannot carry away his love from her seat. Thus

has Uko in his

[Pg 152]

wisdom determined, and thus has the Milky Way arisen.

THE GRATEFUL PRINCE.

( Kreutzwald .)

Once upon a time, the king of the Golden Land

[105] lost his way in a forest, and, notwithstanding all his

efforts, could not find his way out. Presently he encountered a

stranger, who said to him, "What are you doing here, my friend,

in this gloomy forest, where only wild beasts dwell?" The king

replied, "I have lost my way, and am trying to find the road

home." "If you will promise to give me the first living thing

that meets you when you return to your palace, I will show you

the right way," said the stranger.

[106]

The king reflected awhile, and then answered, "Why should I run

the risk of losing my good hunting-dog? I may perhaps succeed

in finding my way home by myself." The stranger went

[Pg 153]

away, but the king wandered about in the wood till his

provisions were exhausted, while he was unable to discover the

least trace of the right path. Then the stranger met him a

second time, and said, "Promise me the first living thing that

meets you on your return to your palace." But as the king was

very obstinate, he refused to promise anything yet. He once

more boldly explored the forest backwards and forwards, and at

length sank down exhausted under a tree, and thought that his

last hour had come. Then the stranger, who was none other than

the Old Boy

[107] himself, appeared to the king for the third time, and

said, "Don't be a fool. How can you be so fond of your dog that

you are unwilling to part with him to save your life? Only

promise me what I require, and you will soon be relieved from

your anxiety, and your life will be saved." "My life is worth

more than a thousand dogs," answered the king. "The welfare of

a whole country and people is at stake. Let it be so, I will

grant your request, if you will only take me home." He had

hardly uttered the words when he found himself at once on the

borders of the wood, and could see his palace

[Pg 154]

in the distance. He hurried thither, and the first thing which

met him at the gate was the nurse with the royal infant, who

stretched out his arms to his father. The king was horrified,

and scolded the nurse, telling her to take the child away as

quickly as possible. Directly afterwards came his faithful

dog, and fawned upon his master, who repulsed his advances

with a kick. Innocent dependants often suffer thus for the

folly and ill-humour of their superiors.

As soon as the king's anger had cooled a little, he exchanged

his child, a promising boy, for the daughter of a peasant, and

thus the prince was reared up in the house of poor people,

while the peasant's daughter slept in silken robes in the royal

cradle. In a year's time, the Old Boy made his appearance to

demand his due, and took the little girl with him, supposing

her to be the king's child, for he knew nothing of the artifice

by which the children had been changed. The king exulted at the

success of his stratagem, and ordered a great feast. He loaded

the parents of the stolen child with rich presents, that the

prince might want for nothing in the cottage, but did not yet

venture to reclaim his son, fearing lest the deception might be

[Pg 155]

discovered. The peasant family were well satisfied with the

arrangement, for they had one mouth less to feed, and plenty

of food and money.

Meantime the prince grew up to boyhood, and spent a very

pleasant life in the house of his foster-parents. But still he

was not quite happy, for as soon as he learned how the

stratagem had succeeded, he was much grieved that a poor

innocent girl should have to suffer the consequences of his

father's thoughtlessness in his place. He formed a fixed

resolve either to release the poor girl, if this was possible,

or to perish with her. He could not endure the thought of

becoming king by the sacrifice of a maiden.

[108] One day he secretly disguised himself as a peasant lad,

took a bag of peas on his shoulder, and went to the wood where

his father had lost his way eighteen years before.

[Pg 156]

Soon after entering the wood he began to cry out, "O what an

unfortunate boy I am! how far I must have wandered from the

path! Who will show me the way out of this wood, for there is

no human soul to be seen far or near!" Presently a stranger

with a long grey beard and a leather pouch at his girdle, like

a Tartar,

[109] made his appearance. He gave the youth a friendly

greeting, adding, "I know this neighbourhood well, and can

direct you anywhere you please, if you will promise me a good

return."

"What can a poor lad like me promise you?" answered the artful prince.

"I have nothing more than my young life, for even the coat on my body

belongs to the master whom I must serve in exchange for food and

clothing."

The stranger looked at the bag of peas on the lad's shoulder, and

remarked, "You can't be quite destitute, for you carry a bag which

seems to be very heavy."

"There are peas in the bag," said the prince. "My old aunt died

last night, and has left me so

[Pg 157]

much as this, that I may be able to set boiled peas before the

watchers of the dead

[110] as is the custom in this country. I have begged the peas

from my host in the name of God, and was going away with them,

when I struck into a forest path as a short cut, and it has led

me astray, as you see."

"Then I conclude, from what you say, that you are an orphan," observed

the stranger with a grin. "If you will enter my service, I happen just

to be in want of a handy workman for my small household, and I've taken

a fancy to you."

"Why shouldn't I, if we can come to terms?" replied the prince. "I was

born to servitude, and a stranger's bread is always bitter, so that it

matters little to me what master I serve. But what will you promise me

for a year's service?"

"Well," said the stranger, "you shall have fresh food every day, meat

twice a week, and when you work out of doors, butter or herrings as a

treat, a full suit of summer and winter clothing, besides two acres of

land for your own use."

"That will suit me," said the crafty prince. "Let other people

bury my aunt; I'll go with you."

[Pg 158]

The Old Boy seemed well pleased at having made such a good

stroke of business, and spun round on one foot like a teetotum,

hallooing so loud that the wood re-echoed. Then he started off

on the road with his new servant, and enlivened the tedium of

the way by a variety of jokes, without observing that his

companion dropped a pea from his bag at every ten or fifteen

paces. The travellers halted for the night in the forest under

a large fir-tree, and continued their journey next morning. The

sun was already high in the heavens when they reached a large

stone. Here the old man stopped, looked sharply round on all

sides, whistled loudly, and then stamped on the ground three

times with his left foot.

[111] Suddenly a secret door opened under the stone, and

revealed a covered way like the entrance to a cavern. Then the

old man seized the prince's arm, and said roughly, "Follow me!"

They were in utter darkness, but it seemed to the prince that

the path led them deeper and deeper into the earth. After some

time a glimmer of light again grew visible, but the light did

not resemble that of either the sun or moon. The prince looked

[Pg 159]

up in some alarm, but could see neither sun nor sky; only a

mass of shining clouds floated over him, which seemed to

canopy this new world, in which everything had a strange

appearance. Land and water, trees and plants, animals and

birds, all had a different aspect from what he had seen

before. But what seemed strangest to him was the wonderful

silence around, for there was not a voice or a rustle to be

heard anywhere. All was as still as in the grave, and even the

prince's own footsteps made no sound. Here and there a bird

might be seen sitting on a bough with stretched-out neck and

swelled throat, as if singing, but no sound was audible. The

dogs opened their mouths to bark, and the bulls raised their

heads to bellow, but neither bark nor bellow could be heard.

The water flowed over the gravel without gushing, the wind

waved the tops of the trees without rustling, and flies and

beetles flew about without buzzing. The Old Boy did not speak

a word, and when his companion tried to speak he felt his

voice die away in his throat.

Nobody knows how long they travelled through this unearthly

silent country. Terror seized on the heart of the prince, his

hair stood on end

[Pg 160]

like bristles, and he shivered with fear, when at length, to

his great joy, the first sound fell on his straining ears, and

seemed to make a real country of this shadowy land. It seemed

to him that a great herd of horses was toiling through swampy

ground. At last the old man opened his mouth, and said,

licking his lips, "The soup kettle's boiling, and they are

expecting us at home." They went on some distance farther,

when the prince thought he heard the sound of a sawmill, in

which at least two dozen saws seemed to be at work, but the

host said, "My old grandmother is already fast asleep and

snoring."

Presently they reached the top of a hill, and the prince could

see the homestead of his new master at some distance, but there

were so many buildings that it looked more like a village or an

outlying suburb than the residence of a single owner. At length

they arrived, and found an empty dog-kennel at the gate. "Creep

in there," said the master, "and lie quiet till I have spoken

to my grandmother about you. She is very self-willed, like most

old people, and can't bear a stranger in the house." The prince

crept trembling into the dog-kennel, and began to repent

[Pg 161]

the rashness that had brought him into such a scrape.

After a time the host came back, called the prince from his

hiding-place, and said with a wry face, "Take good note of the

arrangements of our household, and take care not to go against them, or

you might fare very badly.

"Keep your eyes and ears both open,

But your mouth fast closed for ever,

And obey without a question:

Think whatever it may please you;

Never speak without permission."

When the prince crossed the threshold, his eyes fell upon a

young girl of great beauty, with brown eyes and curly hair. He

thought to himself, "If the old man has many such daughters as

this, I should be glad to become his son-in-law. The maiden is

just to my taste." The fair maiden laid the table without

saying a word, set the food upon it, and then modestly took her

place by the hearth, as if she had not observed the stranger.

She took out needles and worsted, and began to knit a stocking.

The master sat down alone at the table, and did not ask either

the man or maid to join him, nor was

[Pg 162]

anything to be seen of the old grandmother. The Old Boy's

appetite was immeasurable, and in a very short time he had

made a clean sweep of everything on the table, though it would

have been plenty for at least a dozen people. When at last he

allowed his jaws to rest, he said to the maiden, "Scrape out

what is left at the bottom of the pot and kettle, and content

yourselves with the fragments, but throw the bones to the

dog."

The prince's countenance fell at the idea of this meal from the

scrapings of the kettle, which he was to share with the pretty

girl and the dog. But he soon recovered his spirits when he

found a very nice meal placed on the table from these

fragments. During supper he cast many stolen glances at the

maiden, and would have given a great deal if he could have

ventured to speak to her. But whenever he was on the point of

speaking, he met the imploring glance of the maiden, which

seemed to say, "Silence!" So the young man allowed his eyes to

speak, and gave expression to this dumb language by his good

appetite, for the maiden had prepared the supper, and it must

be pleasant to her to see that the guest appreciated her

cookery.

[Pg 163]

Meantime the old man had lain down on the stove-bench, and

made the walls re-echo with his snoring.

After supper he roused himself, and said to the prince, "You may rest

for two days after your long journey, and look round the house. But

come to me to-morrow evening and I will arrange your work for next day,

for my household must always set about their work before I get up

myself. The girl will show you your lodging." The prince made an effort

to speak, but the old man came down on him like a thunderbolt, and

screamed out, "You dog of a servant! If you break the rules of the

house, you'll find yourself a head shorter without more ado. Hold your

jaw, and off to bed with you!"

The maiden beckoned him to follow, unlocked a door and signed

to him to enter. The prince thought he saw a tear glisten in

her eye, and would have been only too glad to loiter on the

threshold, but he was too much afraid of the old man. "It's

impossible that this beautiful girl can be his daughter,"

thought he, "for she has a kind heart. She must be the poor

girl who was brought here in my place, and for whose sake I

undertook this foolhardy enterprise." He did not fall asleep

for a long time, and even then his uneasy dreams gave him no

[Pg 164]

rest. He dreamed of all sorts of unknown dangers which

threatened him, and it was always the form of the fair girl

that came to his aid.

When he awoke next morning, his first thought was to do his best to

ingratiate himself with the maiden. He found the industrious girl

already at work, and helped her to draw water from the well and carry

it into the house, chopped wood, kept up the fire under the pots, and

helped her in all her other work. In the afternoon he went out to make

himself better acquainted with his new abode, and was much surprised

that he could find no trace of the old grandmother. He saw a white mare

in the stable, and a black cow with a white-headed calf in the

enclosure, and in other locked outhouses he thought he heard ducks,

geese, fowls, &c. Breakfast and dinner were just as good as last

night's supper, and he would have been very well content with his

position, but that it was so very hard to hold his tongue with the

maiden opposite him. On the evening of the second day he went to the

master to receive his instructions for next day's work.

The old man said, "I'll give you an easy job for to-morrow.

Take the scythe, and mow as much grass as the white mare needs

for her day's pro

[Pg 165]

vender, and clean out the stable. But if I should come and find

the manger empty or any litter on the floor, it will go badly

enough with you. Take good heed!"

The prince was well pleased, for he thought, "I shall soon be

able to manage this piece of work, for although I have never

handled either plough or scythe before, I have often seen how

easily the country-people manage these tools, and I am quite

strong enough." But when he was about to go to bed, the maiden

crept in gently, and asked in a low voice, "What work has he

given you?" "I've an easy task for to-morrow," answered the

prince. "I have only to mow grass for the white mare, and to

clean out the stable; that's all." "O poor fellow!" sighed the

maiden, "how can you ever accomplish it? The white mare is the

master's grandmother, and she is an insatiable creature, for

whom twenty mowers could hardly provide the daily fodder, and

another twenty would have to work from morning till night to

clear the litter from the stable. How will you be able to

manage both tasks alone? Take my advice, and follow it exactly.

When you have thrown a few loads of grass to the

[Pg 166]

mare, you must plait a strong rope of willow-twigs in her

sight. She will ask you what this is for, and you must answer,

'To bind you up so tightly that you will not feel disposed to

eat more than I give you, or to litter the stable after I have

cleared it.'" As soon as the girl had finished speaking, she

slid out of the room as gently as she had come, without giving

the youth time to thank her. He repeated her instructions to

himself several times, for fear of forgetting anything, and

then went to sleep.

Early next morning he set to work. He plied the scythe lustily,

and soon mowed down so much grass that he could rake several

loads together. He took one load to the mare, but when he

returned with the second he found with dismay that the manger

was already empty, and that there was half a ton of litter on

the floor. He saw now that he would have been lost without the

maiden's good advice, and resolved to follow it at once. He

began to plait the rope, when the mare turned her head and

asked in astonishment, "My dear son, what do you want with this

rope?" "O nothing at all," he answered; "I am only going to

bind you up so tightly that you

[Pg 167]

won't care to eat more than I choose to give you, or to drop

more litter than I choose to carry away." The white mare

looked at him, and sighed deeply once or twice, but it was

clear that she understood him, for long after midday there was

still fodder in the manger and the floor remained clean.

Presently the master came to inspect the work, and when he

found everything in good order he was much surprised, and

asked, "Are you clever enough to do this yourself, or did any

one give you good advice?" But the prince was on his guard,

and answered at once, "I have no one to help me but my own

poor head and a mighty God in heaven." The old man was

silenced, and left the stable grumbling, but the prince was

delighted that everything had succeeded so well.

In the evening the master said, "I have no particular work for

you to-morrow, but as the maid has plenty to do in the house,

you must milk the black cow. But take care not to leave a drop

of milk in the udder. If I find that you have done so, it might

cost you your life." As the prince went away, he thought, "If

there is not some trick in this, I cannot find the work hard.

Thank God, I have strong fingers, and

[Pg 168]

will not leave a drop of milk behind." But when he was about

to retire to rest, the maiden came to him again, and asked,

"What work have you to do to-morrow?" "I've a whole holiday

to-morrow," answered the prince. "All I have to do to-morrow

is to milk the black cow, and not leave a drop of milk in the

udder." "O you unfortunate fellow!" sighed she, "how will you

ever accomplish it? Know, dear young stranger, that if you

were to milk the black cow from morning till evening, the milk

would continue to flow in one unbroken stream. I am convinced

that the old man is bent on your ruin. But fear nothing, for

as long as I am alive no harm shall happen to you, if you will

remember my advice, and follow it exactly. When you go

milking, take a pan full of hot coals, and a smith's tongs

with you. When you reach the place, put the tongs in the fire,

and blow the coals to a bright flame. If the black cow asks

what this is for, answer her as I am about to whisper in your

ear." Then the maiden crept out of the room on tiptoe as she

had come, and the prince lay down to sleep.

The prince got up almost before dawn next day, and went to the

cowhouse with the milk-pail in

[Pg 169]

one hand, and a pan of live coals in the other. The black cow

looked at his proceedings for a while in silence, and then

asked, "What are you doing, my dear son?" "Nothing at all," he

replied; "but some cows have a bad habit of keeping back milk

in their udders after they are milked, and in such cases I

find hot tongs useful to prevent the chance of any waste." The

black cow sighed deeply and seemed scared. The prince then

took the pail, milked the cow dry, and when he tried again

after a while he found not a drop of milk in her udder. Some

time after the master came into the cowhouse, and as he was

also unable to draw a drop of milk, he asked angrily, "Are you

so clever yourself, or did any one give you good advice?" But

the prince answered as before, "I have no one to help me but

my own poor head and a mighty God in heaven." The old man went

off in great vexation.

When the prince went to the master in the evening, the latter

said, "There is still a heap of hay in the field that I should

like to have brought under cover during dry weather. Bring the

hay home to-morrow, but take care not to leave a particle

behind, or it might cost you your life." The prince left the

room well pleased,

[Pg 170]

thinking, "It's no great job to bring hay home. I have only to

load it, and the mare must draw it. I won't spare the master's

grandmother." In the evening the maiden crept to his side, and

asked about his work for to-morrow. The prince said smiling,

"I am learning all sorts of farmwork here. I have to bring

home a heap of hay to-morrow, and only to take care not to

leave a scrap behind. This is all my work for to-morrow." "O

poor fellow!" sighed she, "how will you ever do it? If you

were to set to work for a week, with the help of all the

inhabitants of a large district, you could not remove this

heap. Whatever you took away from the top would grow up again

from the ground directly. Mark well what I say. You must get

up to-morrow before daybreak, and lead the white mare from the

stable, taking with you some strong cords. Then go to the

haycock, fasten the cords round it, and then bind them to the

mare. When this is done, climb on the haycock, and begin to

count one, two, three, four, five, six, and so on. The mare

will ask what you are counting, and you must answer her as I

whisper." Then the maiden left the room, and the prince went

to bed.

[Pg 171]

When he awoke next morning, the first thing he remembered was

the maiden's good advice. So he took some strong ropes with

him, led out the white mare, and rode on her back to the

haycock, but found that the so-called haycock contained at

least fifty loads. The prince did all that the maiden had told

him, and when he was sitting on the heap, and had counted up to

twenty, the white mare asked in surprise, "What are you

counting, my dear son?" "Nothing at all," said he; "I was only

amusing myself by counting up the packs of wolves

[112] in the forest, but there are so many that I can't reckon

them all up." He had hardly spoken when the white mare darted

off like the wind, and the haycock was safely housed in a few

moments. The master was not a little surprised, when he came

out after breakfast, to find that the new labourer had already

finished his day's work. He put him the same question as

before, and received the same reply; and he went off shaking

his head and cursing.

In the evening, the prince went as usual to inquire about his

work, and the old man said,

[Pg 172]

"To-morrow you must take the white-headed calf to pasture, but

take care that he doesn't run away, or it might cost you your

life." The prince thought, "There are many ten-year old

farm-boys who have whole herds to manage, and surely I can't

find it so very difficult to look after one calf." But when

the maiden heard of it she said, "Know that this calf is so

wild that he would run three times round the world in a day.

[113] Take this silk thread, and bind one end to the left

fore-leg of the calf, and the other to the little toe of your

left foot, and then the calf will not be able to stir a step

from your side, whether you are walking, standing, or lying

down." Then she left him, and the prince lay down, but it vexed

him to think that he had again forgotten to thank her for her

good advice.

Next morning he followed the advice of the friendly maiden, and

led the calf to the pasture by the silken thread. It remained

by his side like a faithful dog, and in the evening he led it

back to the stall, where the old man met him

[Pg 173]

angrily, and, after the usual question and answer, went off in

a fury, and the prince thought it must be the mention of the

holy name which kept him under restraint.

Late in the evening the prince went to his master for instructions,

when the old man gave him a bag of barley, saying, "I will give you a

holiday to-morrow, and you may sleep as long as you like, but you must

work hard to-night instead. Sow me this barley, which will spring up

and ripen quickly; then you must cut it, thresh it, and winnow it, so

that you can malt it and grind it. You must brew beer of this malt, and

when I wake to-morrow morning, you must bring me a jug of fresh beer

for my morning drink. Take care to follow my instructions exactly, or

it might easily cost you your life."

This time the prince was quite confounded, and on leaving the

room, he stood outside weeping bitterly, and said to himself,

"This is my last night, for no mortal can do this work, and the

clever maiden's aid will avail me no longer. O unhappy wretch

that I am! why was I so thoughtless as to leave the king's

palace, and thrust myself into this danger! I cannot even

lament my unhappy lot to

[Pg 174]

the stars in heaven, for here there are neither stars nor sky.

But yet God reigns over all."

He was still standing with the bag of barley in his hand when

the house-door opened and the kind maiden came out. She asked

what troubled him so much, and he replied, "Alas! my last hour

has come, and we must part for ever. I will tell you all before

I die. I am the only son of a great king, from whom I should

inherit a mighty empire; but now all hope and happiness are at

an end." Then he told the maiden with tears of the task the old

man had laid upon him; but it pained him to see that she did

not seem to share his trouble. When he had finished his long

story, she smiled and said, "My dear prince, you may sleep

quietly to-night, and enjoy yourself all day to-morrow. Take my

advice, and don't despise it because I am only a poor

servant-girl. Take this little key, which unlocks the third

hen-house, where the Old Boy keeps the spirits who serve him.

[114] Throw the bag of barley into the house, and repeat word

for word the commands that you have received from the master,

and add, 'If you depart a hair's breadth from my

[Pg 175]

instructions, you will all perish together; but if you want

help, the door of the seventh pen will be open to-night, in

which dwell the most powerful of the old man's spirits.'"

The prince carried out all her instructions, and then lay down to

sleep. When he awoke in the morning and went to the beer tub, he found

it full of beer violently working, with the foam flowing over the edge.

He tasted the beer, filled a large jug with the foaming drink, and

brought it to his master, who was just getting up. But instead of the

thanks which he expected from him, the old man broke out in

uncontrollable fury, "That's not from yourself. I see you have good

friends and helpers. All right! we'll talk again this evening."

In the evening the old man said, "I have no work for you to-morrow, but

you must come to my bedside to-morrow morning, and shake hands with

me."

The prince was amused at the old man's queer whim, and laughed

when he told the maiden. But when she heard it she became very

serious, and said, "Now you must look to yourself, for the old

man intends to eat you to-morrow morning, and there is only one

way of escape. You must heat a

[Pg 176]

shovel red-hot in the stove,

[115] and offer it to him instead of your own hand." Then she

hastened away, and the prince went to bed. Next morning he took

good care to heat the shovel red-hot before the old man awoke.

At last he heard him shouting, "What has become of you, you

lazy fellow? Come and shake hands with me." But when the prince

entered the room with the red-hot shovel in his hand, the old

man cried out with a whining voice, "I am very ill to-day, and

cannot take your hand. But come back this evening to receive my

orders."

The prince loitered about all day, and went to the old man in the

evening as usual to receive his commands for the morrow. He found him

very friendly, and he said, "I am well pleased with you. Come to me

to-morrow morning with the maiden, for I know that you have long been

attached to each other, and I will give her to you as your bride."

The prince would have liked to dance and shout for joy, but by

good luck he remembered the strict rules of the house, and kept

silent. But when he

[Pg 177]

spoke to his betrothed of his good fortune, and expected that

she would receive the news with equal delight, he saw her turn

as white as the wall with terror, and her tongue seemed to be

paralysed. As soon as she recovered herself a little, she

said, "The Old Boy has discovered that I have been your

counsellor, and has resolved to destroy us both. We must fly

this very night, or we are lost. Take an axe, and strike off

the head of the white-headed calf with a heavy blow, and then

split the skull in two with a second stroke. In the brain of

the calf you will find a shining red reel, which you must

bring me. I will arrange whatever else is needful." The prince

thought, "I would rather kill an innocent calf than sacrifice

both myself and this dear girl, and if our flight succeeds, I

shall see my home once more. The peas I sowed must have sprung

up by this time, so that we cannot miss our way."

He went into the stall, and found the cow and the calf lying

asleep near together, and they slept so fast that they did not

hear his approach. But when he struck off the calf's head, the

cow groaned very loud, as if she had had a bad dream. He

hastened to split the calf's skull with the second

[Pg 178]

blow, and lo! the whole stall suddenly became as light as if

it was day. The red reel fell out of the brain, and shone like

a little sun. The prince wrapped it carefully in a cloth, and

hid it in his bosom. It was fortunate that the cow did not

wake, or she would have begun to roar so loud that she might

easily have roused her master too.

The prince found the maiden waiting for him at the gate with a

small bundle on her arm. "Where is the reel?" she whispered.

"Here," replied the prince, and gave it to her. "Now we must

hasten our flight," said she, and she unravelled a small part

of the reel from the cloth that its shining light might

illuminate the darkness of the way like a lantern. As the

prince had expected, the peas had all sprung up, so that they

could not miss the way. The maiden then told the prince that

she had once overheard a conversation between the old man and

his grandmother, and had learned that she was a princess whom

the Old Boy had stolen from her parents by a trick. The prince

knew the real state of the case better, but kept silence,

rejoicing inwardly that he had succeeded in freeing the poor

girl. The

[Pg 179]

travellers must have gone a long way before the day began to

break.

The Old Boy did not wake till late In the morning, and rubbed the sleep

out of his eyes for a long time before he remembered that he was going

to devour the couple. After waiting for them a good while he said to

himself, "Perhaps they haven't quite finished their preparations for

the wedding." But at last he got tired of waiting so long, and shouted

out, "Ahoy, man and maid, what has become of you?" He repeated the cry

several times, shouting and cursing, but neither man nor maid appeared.

At last he scrambled out of bed in a rage, and went in search of the

defaulters. But he found the house empty, and discovered, too, that the

beds had not been slept in. Then he rushed into the stall, and when he

saw the calf slaughtered and the magic reel stolen, he comprehended

all. He cursed till everything was black, and opened the third

spirit-house, sending his messengers forth to seek the fugitives.

"Bring me them just as you find them, for I must have them," said the

Old Boy, and the spirits flew forth like the wind.

The fugitives were just crossing a great plain,

[Pg 180]

when the maiden suddenly stopped and said, "All is not as it

should be. The reel moves in my hand, and we are certainly

pursued." When they looked back, they saw a black cloud

rushing towards them with great speed. Then the maiden turned

the reel thrice in her hand and said:

"Hear me, reel, and reel, O hearken;

Fain would I become a streamlet,

Where as fish my lover's swimming."

Instantly they were both transformed. The maiden flowed away like a

brook, and the prince swam in the water like a little fish. The spirits

rushed past, and turned after a time, and flew back home; but they did

not touch the brook or the fish. As soon as the pursuers were gone, the

brook became a maiden, and the fish a youth, and they continued their

journey in human form.

When the spirits returned, weary and empty-handed, the Old Boy asked if

they had not noticed anything unusual on their journey.

"Nothing at all," they answered, "but a brook on the plain, with a

single fish swimming in it."

The old man growled angrily, "There they were! there they

were!" Immediately he threw open the doors of the fifth pen and

let out the spirits,

[Pg 181]

commanding them to drink up the water of the brook, and to

capture the fish; and the spirits flew off like the wind.

The travellers were just approaching the edge of a wood, when the

maiden stopped, saying, "All is not as it should be. The reel moves

again in my hand." They looked round, and saw another cloud in the sky,

darker than the first, and with red borders. "These are our pursuers,"

she cried, and turned the reel three times round in her hand, saying:

"Hear me, reel, and reel, O hear me;

Change us both upon the instant:

I'll become a wild rose-briar,

And my love a rose upon it."

Instantly the maiden was changed into a wild rose-bush, and the youth

hung upon it in the form of a rose. The spirits rushed away over their

heads, and did not return for some time; but they saw nothing of the

brook and the fish, and they did not trouble about the wild rose-tree.

As soon as their pursuers were gone, the rose-tree and the rose again

became a maiden and a youth, and after their short rest they hurried

away.

"Have you found them?" cried the old man,

[Pg 182]

when the spirits returned and crouched before him.

"No," answered their leader; "we found neither brook nor fish on the

plain."

"Did you see nothing else remarkable on the way?" asked their master.

The leader answered, "We saw nothing but a wild rose-bush on the edge

of the wood, with a single rose upon it." "Fools!" cried the old man,

"there they were! there they were!" He threw open the door of the

seventh pen, and sent out his most powerful spirits to search for the

fugitives. "Bring them me just as you find them, for I must have them,

dead or alive. Tear up the accursed rose-tree by the roots, and bring

everything else with you that looks strange." And the spirits rushed

forth like a tempest.

The fugitives were just resting in the shade of a wood, and

strengthening themselves for further efforts with food and

drink. Suddenly the maiden cried out, "All is not right, for

the reel feels as if it was being pulled from my bosom. We are

certainly again pursued, and the danger is close at hand, but

the wood still hides us from our enemies." Then she took the

reel from her bosom,

[Pg 183]

and turned it over three times in her hand, saying:

"Hear me reel, and reel, O hear me;

To a puff of wind transform me,

To a gnat transform my lover."

Instantly they were both transformed, and the maiden rose into the air

as a puff of wind, and the prince sported in the breeze like a gnat.

The mighty host of spirits swept over them like a tempest, and returned

some time afterwards, as they could neither find the rose-bush nor

anything else remarkable. But they were hardly gone before the youth

and the maiden resumed their proper forms, and the maiden cried out,

"Now we must make haste, before the old man himself comes to look for

us, for he would know us under any disguise."

They ran on for some distance till they reached the dark passage, which

they could easily climb up by the bright light of the reel. They were

breathless and exhausted when they reached the great rock; when the

maiden again turned the reel three times round, saying:

"Hear me, reel, and reel, O hear me;

Let the rock aside be lifted,

And a portal opened for us."

[Pg 184]

Instantly the rock was lifted, and they found themselves once

more upon the earth. "God be praised," cried the maiden, "we

are saved. The Old Boy has no further power over us here, and

we can guard against his cunning. But now, my friend, we must

part. Do you go to your parents, and I will go to mine." "By no

means," replied the prince, "I cannot part from you, and you

must come with me, and become my wife. You have passed days of

sorrow with me, and now it is only right that we should enjoy

days of happiness together." The maiden resisted for a time,

but at last she consented to accompany the youth.

They met with a woodcutter in the wood, who told them that

there was great trouble in the palace and throughout the whole

country, because of the unaccountable disappearance of the

king's son, every trace of whom had been lost for years.

[116] The maiden made use of the magic reel to provide the

prince with suitable robes in which to present himself to his

father. Meanwhile she stayed be

[Pg 185]

hind in a peasant's cottage, till the prince should have

informed his father of his adventures.

[117]

But the old king had died before the prince's arrival, for trouble at

the loss of his only son had shortened his life. On his death-bed he

repented bitterly of his thoughtless promise, and of his treachery in

delivering a poor innocent maiden to the old rascal, for which God had

punished him by the loss of his son. The prince mourned for the death

of his father, as befitted a good son, and buried him with great

honours. Then he mourned for three days, refusing all food and drink.

On the fourth morning he presented himself to the people as their new

ruler, assembled his councillors, and related to them the wonderful

things that he had seen and experienced in the Old Boy's dwelling, and

did not forget to say how the clever maiden had saved his life. Then

the councillors all exclaimed with one voice, "She must become your

consort and our queen."

When the young king set out to seek his bride, he was much

surprised to meet the maiden

[Pg 186]

advancing in regal state. The magic reel had provided her with

everything that was necessary, and all the people supposed

that she must be the daughter of some very wealthy king, and

came from a distant country. Then the wedding festivities

commenced, which lasted four weeks, and they lived together in

happiness and prosperity for many a pleasant year.

[118]

[Pg 187]

SLYBOOTS.

( Kreutzwald .)

In the days of the son of Kalev there reigned a very rich king

of Kungla, who gave a great feast to his subjects every seven

years at midsummer, which lasted for two or three weeks

together.

[119] The time for the feast came round again, and its

commencement had been looked forward to for some months, though

with some uncertainty; for twice already, seven years ago and

fourteen years ago, the anticipated festival had come to

nothing. Both times the king had made full preparations for the

feast, but no man had tasted it. This seemed strange and

incredible, but there were many people everywhere who could

bear witness to the facts. It was said that on both these

occasions an unknown stranger had come to the head-cook and

asked to be permitted to taste a little of the food and drink,

but the moment he had dipped his spoon in the soup-kettle, and

put the froth in the beer-can to his

[Pg 188]

mouth, the whole contents of the storehouses, pantries, and

cellars vanished in a moment, so that not a scrap or drop of

anything remained.

[120] The cooks and kitchen-boys had all seen and sworn to the

truth of the matter, but the people were so enraged at the

collapse of the feast, that the king was obliged to appease

them seven years before, by ordering the head-cook to be hanged

for having given the stranger permission to taste the food. In

order to prevent any repetition of the trouble, the king

proclaimed that he would richly reward any one who would

undertake the preparation of the feast; and at length, when no

one would undertake the responsibility, the king promised his

youngest daughter in marriage to any one who should succeed,

but added that failure would be punished with death.

A long way from the capital, and near the borders of the

kingdom, lived a rich farmer who had three sons, the youngest

of whom showed great intelligence from his youth, because the

Meadow-Queen

[121] had nursed him, and had often secretly given him the

breast. The father called

[Pg 189]

him Slyboots, and used to say to the brothers, "You two elder

ones must earn your living by your bodily strength and by the

work of your hands, but as for you, little Slyboots, you will

be able to rise higher in the world than your brothers, by

your own cleverness."

Before the father died, he divided all his corn-land and meadows

between his two elder sons, but to the youngest he gave enough money to

enable him to go forth into the wide world to seek his fortune. But the

father's corpse was scarcely cold when the two elder brothers stripped

the youngest of every farthing, and thrust him out of the door, saying

mockingly, "Your cleverness alone, Slyboots, is to exalt you over our

heads, and therefore you might find the money troublesome to you."

The youngest brother scorned to notice the ill-treatment of his

brothers, and went cheerfully on his way. "Good fortune may

come from God," was the comforting reflection which he took

with him from his father's house, and he whistled away his sad

thoughts. Just as he was beginning to feel hungry, he

encountered two travelling journey-men. His pleasant

countenance and cheerful talk pleased them, and when they

rested, they shared

[Pg 190]

their provisions with him, so that Slyboots did not fare so

badly on the first day. He parted from his companions before

evening quite contented, for his present comfort left him

without anxiety for the morrow. He could sleep anywhere with

the green grass for a couch and the blue sky above, and a

stone under his head served as well as a soft pillow. Next

morning he set out on his way again, and arrived at a lonely

farm, where a young woman was sitting at the door, weeping

bitterly. Slyboots asked what was her trouble, and she

answered, "I have a bad husband, who beats me every day if I

cannot humour his mad freaks. He has ordered me to-day to cook

him a fish which is not a fish, and which has eyes, but not in

its head. Where in the world shall I find such a creature?"

"Don't cry, young woman," answered Slyboots. "Your husband

wants a crab, which is a water-animal to be sure, but is not a

fish, and which has eyes, but not in its head." The woman

thanked him for his good advice, and gave him something to

eat, and a bag of provisions which would last him for several

days. As soon as he received this unexpected assistance, he

determined to set out for the royal capital, where cleverness

[Pg 191]

was likely to be in most request, and where he hoped to make

his fortune.

Wherever he went, he heard every one talking of the king's midsummer

banquet, and when he heard of the reward which was offered to the man

who should prepare the feast, he began to reflect whether he might not

be able to accomplish the adventure. "If I succeed," said he to

himself, "I shall find myself at a stroke on the highway to fortune;

and in the worst case of all, I shall only lose my life, and we must

all die sooner or later. If I begin in the right way, why shouldn't I

succeed? Perhaps I may be more fortunate than others. And even if the

king should refuse me his daughter, he must at least give me the

promised reward in money, which will make me a rich man."

Buoyed up with such thoughts, he pursued his journey, singing and

whistling like a lark, sometimes resting under the shadow of a bush

during the heat of the day, and sleeping at night under a tree or in

the open fields. One morning he finished the last remains of his

provisions, and in the evening he arrived safe and sound at the city.

Next day he craved audience of the king. The king saw that he

had to deal with an intelligent and

[Pg 192]

enterprising man, and it was easy for them to come to terms.

"What is your name?" asked the king. The man of brains

replied, "My baptismal name is Nicodemus, but I was always

called Slyboots at home, to show that I did not fall on my

head." "I will leave you your name," returned the king, "but

your head must answer for all mischief if the affair should go

wrong."

Slyboots asked the king to give him seven hundred workmen, and

set about his preparations without delay. He ordered twenty

large sheds to be constructed, and arranged in a square like a

series of large cowhouses, so that a great open space was left

in the middle, to which led one single large gate. He ordered

great cooking-pots and caldrons to be built in the rooms which

were to be heated, and the ovens were furnished with iron

spits, where meat and sausages could be roasted. Other sheds

were furnished with great boilers and vats for brewing beer, so

that the boilers were above and the vats below. Other houses

without fireplaces were fitted up as storehouses for cold

provisions, such as black bread, barm bracks, white bread, &c.

All needful stores, such as flour, groats, meat, salt, lard,

butter, &c., were brought into the

[Pg 193]

open space, and fifty soldiers were stationed before the door,

so that nothing should be touched by the finger of any thief.

The king came every day to view the preparations, and praised

the skill and forethought of Slyboots. Besides all this,

several dozen bakehouses were built in the open air, and a

special guard of soldiers was stationed before each. They

slaughtered for the feast a thousand oxen, two hundred calves,

five hundred swine, ten thousand sheep, and many more small

animals, which were driven together in flocks from all

quarters. Stores of provisions were constantly brought by

river in boats and barges, and by land in waggons, and this

went on without intermission for several weeks. Seven thousand

hogsheads were brewed of beer alone. Although the seven

hundred assistants toiled late and early, and many additional

labourers were engaged, yet most of the toil and trouble fell

upon Slyboots, who was obliged to look sharply after the

others at every point. He had warned the cooks, the bakers,

and the brewers, in the most stringent manner, not to allow

any strange mouth to taste the food or drink, and any one who

broke this command was threatened with the gallows. If such a

greedy stranger should make his appearance

[Pg 194]

anywhere, he was to be brought immediately to the

superintendent of the preparations.

On the morning of the first day of the feast, word was brought

to Slyboots that an unknown old man had come into one of the

kitchens, and asked the cook to allow him to taste a little

from the soup-kettle with a spoon, which the cook could not

permit him to do on his own responsibility. Slyboots ordered

the stranger to be brought before him, and presently he beheld

a little old man with grey hair, who humbly begged to be

allowed to taste the food and drink prepared for the banquet.

Slyboots told him to come into one of the kitchens, when he

would gratify his wish if it were possible. As they went, he

scanned the old man sharply, to see whether he could not detect

something strange about him. Presently he observed a shining

gold ring on the ring-finger of the old man's left hand. When

they reached the kitchen, Slyboots asked, "What security can

you give me that no harm shall come of it if I let you taste

the food?" "My lord," answered the stranger, "I have nothing to

offer you as a pledge." Slyboots pointed to the fine gold ring

and demanded that as a pledge. The old fellow resisted with all

his might,

[Pg 195]

protesting that the ring was a token of remembrance from his

dead wife, and he had vowed never to take it from his hand,

lest some misfortune should happen. "Then it is quite

impossible for me to grant your request," said Slyboots, "for

I cannot permit any one to taste either the food or drink

without a pledge." The old man was so anxious about it that at

last he gave his ring as a pledge.

Just as he was about to dip his spoon in the pot, Slyboots struck him

so heavy a blow on the head with the flat of an axe, that it might have

felled the strongest ox; but the old fellow did not fall, but only

staggered a little. Then Slyboots seized him by the beard with both

hands, and ordered strong ropes to be brought, with which he bound the

old man hand and foot, and hung him up by the legs to a beam. Then

Slyboots said to him mockingly, "You may wait there till the feast is

over, and then we will resume our conversation. Meantime, I'll keep

your ring, on which your power depends, as a token." The old man was

obliged to submit, whether he liked it or not, for he was bound so

firmly that he could not move hand or foot.

Then the great feast began, to which the people

[Pg 196]

flocked in thousands from all quarters. Although the feasting

lasted for three whole weeks, there was no want of either food

or drink, for there was plenty and to spare.

The people were much pleased, and had nothing but praise for

the king and the manager of the feast. When the king was about

to pay Slyboots the promised reward, he answered, "I have still

a little business to transact with the stranger before I

receive my reward." Then he took seven strong men with him,

armed with heavy cudgels, and took them to the place where the

old man had been hanging for the last three weeks. "Now, then,"

said Slyboots, "grasp your cudgels firmly, and belabour the old

man so that he shall never forget his hospitable reception for

the rest of his life." The seven men began to whack the old man

all at once, and would soon have made an end of his life, if

the rope had not given way under their blows. The little man

fell down, and vanished underground in an instant, leaving a

wide opening behind him. Then said Slyboots, "I have his

pledge, with which I must follow him. Bring the king a thousand

greetings from me, and tell him to divide my reward among the

poor, if I should not return."

[Pg 197]

He then crept downwards through the hole in which the old man

had disappeared. At first he found the pathway very narrow, but

it widened considerably at the depth of a few fathoms, so that

he was able to advance easily. Steps were hewn in the rock, so

that he did not slip, notwithstanding the darkness. Slyboots

went on for some distance, till he came to a door. He looked

through a crack, and saw three young girls

[122] sitting with the old man, whose head was resting on the

lap of one of them. The girl was saying, "If I only rub the

bruise a few times more with the bell,

[123] the pain and swelling will disappear." Slyboots thought,

"That is certainly the place where I struck the old man with

the back of the axe three weeks ago." He decided to wait behind

the door till the master of the house had lain down to sleep

and the fire was extinguished. Presently the old man said,

"Help me into my room, that I may go to bed, for my body is

quite out of joint, and I can't move hand or foot." Then

[Pg 198]

they brought him to his room. When it grew dark, and the girls

had left the room, Slyboots crept gently in, and hid himself

behind the beer-barrel.

[124]

Presently the girls came back, and spoke gently, so as not to

rouse the old man. "The bruise on the head is of no

consequence," said one, "and the sprained body will also soon

be cured, but the loss of the ring of strength is irreparable,

and this troubles the old man more than his bodily sufferings."

Soon afterwards they heard the old man snoring, and Slyboots

came out of his hiding-place and made friends with the maidens.

At first they were rather frightened, but the clever youth soon

contrived to dispel their alarm, and they allowed him to stay

there for the night. The maidens told him that the old man

possessed two great treasures, a magic sword and a rod of

rowan-wood, and he resolved to possess himself of both. The rod

would form a bridge over the sea for its possessor, and he who

bore the sword could destroy the most numerous army.

[125] On the following evening

[Pg 199]

Slyboots contrived to seize upon the wand and the sword, and

escaped before daybreak with the help of the youngest girl.

But the passage had disappeared from before the door, and in

its place he found a large enclosure, beyond which was a broad

sea.

As soon as Slyboots was gone the girls began to quarrel, and

their loud talking woke up the old man. He learned from what

they said that a stranger had been there, and he rose up in a

passion, and found the wand and sword gone. "My best treasures

are stolen!" he roared, and, forgetting his bruises, he rushed

out. Slyboots was still sitting on the beach, thinking whether

he should try the power of the wand, or seek for a dry path.

Suddenly he heard a rushing sound behind him like a gust of

wind. When he looked round, he saw the old man charging upon

him like a madman. He sprang up, and had just time to strike

the waves with the rod, and to cry out, "Bridge before, water

behind!" He had scarcely spoken, when he found himself standing

on a bridge

[Pg 200]

over the sea, already at some distance from the shore.

[126]

The old man came to the beach panting and puffing, but stopped short

when he saw the thief on the bridge over the sea. He called out,

snuffling, "Nicodemus, my son, where are you going?" "Home, papa," was

the reply. "Nicodemus, my son, you struck me on the head with an axe,

and hung me up to a beam by the legs." "Yes, papa." "Nicodemus, my son,

did you call seven men to beat me, and steal my gold ring from me?"

"Yes, papa." "Nicodemus, my son, have you bamboozled my daughters?"

"Yes, papa." "Nicodemus, my son, have you stolen my sword and wand?"

"Yes, papa." "Nicodemus, my son, will you come back?" "Yes, papa,"

answered Slyboots again. Meantime he had advanced so far on the bridge,

that he could no longer hear the old man speak. When he had crossed the

sea, he inquired the nearest way to the royal city, and hastened

thither to claim his reward.

But lo! he found everything very different from what he had

expected. Both his brothers had

[Pg 201]

entered the service of the king, one as a coachman and the

other as a chamberlain. Both were living in grand style and

were rich people. When Slyboots applied to the king for his

reward, the latter answered, "I waited for you for a whole

year, and I neither saw nor heard anything of you. I supposed

you were dead, and was about to divide your reward among the

poor, as you desired. But one day your elder brothers arrived

to inherit your fortune. I left the matter to the court, who

assigned the money to them, because it was supposed that you

were dead. Since then your brothers have entered my service,

and both still remain in it." When Slyboots heard what the

king said, he thought he must be dreaming, for he imagined

that he had been only two nights in the old man's subterranean

dwelling, and had then taken a few days to return home; but

now it appeared that each night had been as long as a year. He

would not go to law with his brothers, but abandoned the money

to them, thanked God that he had escaped with his life, and

looked out for some fresh employment. The king's cook engaged

him as kitchen-boy, and he now had to turn the joints on the

spit every day. His brothers

[Pg 202]

despised him for his mean employment, and did not like to have

anything to do with him, although he still loved them. One

evening he told them much of what he had seen in the

under-world, where the geese and ducks had gold and silver

plumage. The brothers related this to the king, and begged him

to send their youngest brother to fetch these curious birds.

The king sent for the kitchen-boy, and ordered him to start

next morning in search of the birds with the costly feathers.

Slyboots set out next day with a heavy heart, but he took with

him the ring, the wand, and the sword, which he had carefully

preserved. Some days afterwards he reached the sea, and saw an

old man

[127] with a long grey beard sitting on a stone at the place

where he had reached land after his flight. When Slyboots came

nearer, the old man asked, "Why are you so sad, my friend?"

Slyboots told him how badly he had fared, and the old man bid

him be of good cheer, and not vex himself, adding, "No harm can

happen to you, as long as you wear the ring of strength." He

then gave Slyboots a mussel-shell,

[128] and advised him to

[Pg 203]

build the bridge with the magic wand to the middle of the sea,

and then to step on the shell with his left foot, when he

would immediately find himself in the under-world, while every

one there was asleep. He also advised him to make himself a

bag of spun yarn in which to put the water-birds with gold and

silver plumage, and then he could return unmolested.

Everything fell out as the old man predicted, but Slyboots had

hardly reached the sea-shore with his booty when he heard his

former acquaintance behind him; and when he was on the bridge

he heard him calling out, "Nicodemus, my son," and repeating

the same questions as before. At last he asked if he had

stolen the birds? Slyboots answered "Yes" to every question,

and hastened on.

Slyboots arrived at the royal city in the evening, as his

friend with the grey beard had foretold, and the yarn bag held

the birds so well that none had escaped. The king made him a

present, and told him to go back next day, for he had heard

from the two elder brothers that the lord of the under-world

had many gold and silver utensils, which the king desired for

his own use. Slyboots did not venture to refuse,

[Pg 204]

but he went very unwillingly, because he did not know how to

manage the affair. However, when he reached the sea-shore, he

met his friend with the grey beard, who asked the reason of

his sadness. The old man gave Slyboots another mussel-shell,

and a handful of small stones, with the following advice. "If

you go there in the afternoon, you will find the father in bed

taking his siesta, the daughters spinning in the sitting-room,

and the grandmother in the kitchen scouring the gold and

silver vessels bright. Climb nimbly on the chimney, throw down

the stones tied up in a bag on the old woman's neck, come down

yourself as quick as possible, put the costly vessels in the

yarn bag, and then run off as fast as your legs will carry

you."

Slyboots thanked his friend, and followed his advice exactly.

But when he dropped the bag of pebbles, it expanded into a six

hundred weight sack of paving stones, which dashed the old

woman to the ground. In a moment Slyboots swept all the gold

and silver vessels into his bag and took to flight. When the

Old Boy heard the noise, he thought the chimney had fallen

down, and did not venture to get up directly. But when he

[Pg 205]

had called the grandmother for a long time without receiving

any answer, he was obliged to go himself. When he discovered

the misfortune that had happened, he hastened in pursuit of the

thief, who could not be gone far. Slyboots was already on the

sea, when his pursuer reached the shore panting and puffing. As

before, the Old Boy cried out, "Nicodemus, my son," and

repeated the former questions. At last he asked, "Nicodemus, my

son, have you stolen my gold and silver utensils?" "Certainly,

my father," answered Slyboots. "Nicodemus, my son, do you

promise to come again?" "No, my father," answered Slyboots,

hurrying along the bridge. Although the old man cursed and

scolded after the thief, he could not catch him, and he had now

been despoiled of all his magic treasures.

Slyboots found his friend with the grey beard waiting for him on the

other side of the sea, and he threw down the bag of heavy gold and

silverware, which the ring of strength had enabled him to bring away,

and sat down to rest his weary limbs.

The old man now told him much that shocked him. "Your brothers

hate you, and will do all

[Pg 206]

they can to destroy you, if you do not oppose their wicked

attempts. They will urge the king on to set you tasks in which

you are very likely to perish. When you bring your rich load

to the king this evening, you will find him friendly disposed

towards you; and then ask, as your only reward, that his

daughter should be hidden behind the door in the evening, to

hear what your brothers talk about together."

When Slyboots came before the king with his rich booty, which was

enough to make at least ten horse-loads, he found him extremely kind

and friendly, and he took the opportunity to make the request which his

old friend had advised. The king was glad that the treasure-bringer

asked for no greater reward, and ordered his daughter to hide herself

behind the door in the evening, to overhear what the coachman and the

chamberlain were talking about.

The brothers had grown haughty with prosperity, and boasted of

their good luck, and what was worse, they both boasted to each

other of the favours of the princess in her own hearing! She

ran to her father, flushed with shame and anger, and told him

weeping what shameful lies she had

[Pg 207]

heard with her own ears, and begged him to punish the

wretches. The king immediately ordered them both to be thrown

into prison, and when they had confessed their guilt before

the court next day, they were executed, while Slyboots was

promoted to the rank of king's councillor.

Some time afterwards the country was invaded by a foreign king, and

Slyboots was sent against the enemy in the field. Then he drew the

sword which he had brought from the under-world for the first time, and

began to slaughter the hostile army, and soon none were left alive on

the bloody field. The king was so pleased at the victory that he made

Slyboots his son-in-law.

Jannsen gives an inferior variant of this story under the

title of the House-Spirit. Here a little man who creeps

from under the stove is permitted by the cook to taste the

soup three times running, and every time the pot is

emptied. His master tells him to quit his service next

morning, and orders the steward to make soup; and the

steward knocks down the dwarf with the spoon. Next morning,

as the cook is leaving, the dwarf invites him to his house

under the stove, and gives him a little box, on which he

has only to tap, and ask for whatever he wants. The steward

meets the cook, hears the story, puts on soup, and invites

the dwarf to partake. In return he receives a box, which he

takes to his master, but out of the box jumps a dwarf with

[Pg 208]

an iron club, who belabours them both till they are nearly

dead, and then disappears with the box. The kitchen dwarf

was never seen again.

The next story is peculiarly interesting and original. I place it here,

because we find three maidens busy spinning for a witch, as the

Kalevide found them in the palace of Sarvik.

THE GOLD-SPINNERS.

( Kreutzwald .)

I am going to tell you a beautiful story about what happened in the

world in ancient days, when the meadows still resounded with the wise

sayings of birds and beasts.

Once upon a time a lame old woman lived in a thick forest with

her three beautiful daughters in a cottage hidden among the

bushes. The three daughters were like three fair flowers,

especially the youngest, who was as fair and delicate as a

bean-flower, while the mother was like a withered stem. But

there was none to look upon them in their loneliness save the

sun

[Pg 209]

by day, and by night the moon and the starry eyes of heaven.

Hot, like eyes of youthful lovers,

Shone the sun upon their head-gear,

Shining on their coloured ribands,

Turning red their garment's edges.

The old mother did not allow the girls to grow up in idleness,

but kept them hard at work from morning to night spinning

golden flax into thread. She gave the poor creatures no

half-holidays on Thursdays or Saturdays, to provide themselves

with anything they needed, and if they had not sometimes taken

their needles in their hands by stealth at twilight or by

moonlight, they would have possessed nothing. As soon as the

distaff was empty, they were immediately furnished with a fresh

supply, and the thread was required to be fine and regular.

When the thread was finished, the old woman hid it away under

lock and key in a secret chamber, where her daughters were

never allowed to set foot. The spinners knew not how the golden

flax came into the house, nor for what fabric the thread was

used, for the mother never

[Pg 210]

replied to any questions on these subjects. The old woman went

off on a journey two or three times every summer, and

sometimes stayed away more than a week, but her daughters

never knew where she went or what she brought back with her,

for she always returned by night. When she was about to start,

she always distributed as many days' work to her daughters as

she expected to be away.

The time came round again for the old woman to set out on her

journey, and she gave out work to the girls for six days,

repeating her usual admonition. "Children, do not let your eyes

wander, and hold your fingers carefully, that the thread on the

reel is not broken, or the glitter of the golden thread will

vanish, and with it all your prospects of good fortune." The

girls laughed at this impressive warning, and before their

mother had hobbled ten steps from the house on her crutches,

all three began to make light of it. "There is no need of this

useless warning, which is always repeated," said the youngest

sister. "The golden threads do not break with picking, much

less with spinning." The other sisters added, "It is equally

unlikely that

[Pg 211]

the golden lustre should disappear." The girls often ventured

on such jests, but at last, after much merriment, tears rose

to their eyes.

On the third day after their mother's departure an unexpected

event took place, which at first filled the daughters with

alarm, and then with joy and happiness, but which was destined

to cause them great trouble for a long time afterwards. A

prince of the race of Kalev found himself separated from his

companions while hunting in the forest,

[129] and wandered so far out of his way that he could no

longer hear the barking of the dogs, nor the blowing of the

horns to direct him aright. All his shouts met with no response

but their own echo, or were lost in the thick bush. At length

the prince, tired and disheartened, dismounted from his horse

and lay down to rest under a bush, while he allowed his horse

to stray about and graze at liberty. When the prince awoke from

his sleep, the sun was already low in the heavens. As he was

again wandering

[Pg 212]

backwards and forwards in search of the right road, he came at

length to a small footpath which led him to the cottage of the

lame old woman. The daughters were startled when they suddenly

saw the stranger appear, whose like they had never before

beheld. But they had finished their day's work, and soon made

friends with the visitor in the cool evening, feeling no

inclination to retire to rest. And even after the elder

sisters had lain down to sleep, the youngest still sat on the

doorstep with their guest, and no sleep visited their eyes

that night.

We will leave the pair to exchange confidences and sweet words

in the light of the moon and stars, and will return to the

huntsmen who had lost their master in the wood. They searched

unweariedly through the whole forest, until the darkness of

night put an end to their quest. After this, two men were sent

to carry the sad news to the city, while the others camped for

the night under a great pine-tree, ready to renew their search

next day. The king immediately issued orders that a regiment of

horse and a regiment of foot should march out next morning to

seek for his lost son. The wood was so long and broad

[Pg 213]

that the search lasted till the third day, when horse-tracks

were at length discovered which they followed till they

reached the footpath which led to the cottage. The prince had

not found the time pass heavily in company with the maiden,

and he was but little disposed to go home. Before he departed,

he gave her a secret promise that he would return in a short

time, and take her with him, either with good-will or by

force, and would make her his bride. But although the elder

sisters had heard nothing of the matter, it nevertheless came

to light in a way which nobody anticipated.

The youngest daughter was not a little astonished, when she sat

down to work after the departure of the prince, to find that

the thread on the spool was broken. She pieced the ends

together, and set the wheel in rapid motion that she might make

up for the time which she had lost with her lover, by diligent

labour, but her heart fluttered at a strange and inexplicable

event, for the gold thread had lost its former lustre. No

terror and no sighs or tears could repair the mischief.

According to an old proverb, misfortune springs into the house

through the door, enters by the window, and

[Pg 214]

creeps in through any crevice which is not blocked up; and

thus was it now.

[130]

The old woman returned home by night; and as soon as she came

into the room in the morning, she perceived at once that

something was wrong. Her heart was filled with rage, and she

called her daughters one by one, and severely cross-questioned

them. They could not help themselves with lies and excuses, for

lies have short legs, and the cunning old woman soon discovered

what the village cock had crowed in her youngest daughter's ear

behind her back. Then the old woman began to curse so terribly

that it seemed as if she wanted to darken heaven and earth with

her imprecations. At last she threatened to break the neck of

the young man and give his flesh to the wild beasts to devour

if he ever ventured near the house again. The youngest daughter

turned as red as a boiled crab, and found no rest by day nor

sleep by night; for the thought oppressed her ever, that if the

youth should return, he might meet his death. Early in the

morning she stole quietly out of the house while her mother and

sisters

[Pg 215]

were still asleep, to breathe the freshness of the dewy air.

As luck would have it, she had learned the language of birds

from her mother when she was still a child, and her knowledge

now stood her in good stead. A raven was sitting in the

branches of a pine-tree near, preening his feathers, and the

maiden called to him, "Dear bird of wisdom, wisest of the race

of birds, come to my aid." "What help dost thou need?"

answered the raven. The girl answered, "Fly from the wood afar

into the country, until you reach a stately city with a royal

palace. Endeavour to find the king's son, and warn him of the

misfortune which has come upon us." Then she told the raven

the whole story, from the breaking of the thread to the

terrible threat of her mother, and begged that the youth would

never return to the house. The raven promised to deliver her

message, if he could find anybody who understood his language,

and flew away immediately.

The mother would not allow the youngest daughter to work at the

spinning-wheel again, but kept her busy winding the spun

thread. This work would have been easier to the maiden than the

other, but her mother's incessant cursing and

[Pg 216]

scolding gave her no rest from morning to night. Any attempt

to palliate her offence only made matters worse. If a woman's

heart overflows with anger and loosens her tongue, no power on

earth can stay it.

Towards evening the voice of the raven was heard croaking on

the summit of the pine-tree, and the tortured girl hurried out

to inquire what news he brought. The raven had had the good

fortune to meet with the son of a magician in the garden of the

king, who perfectly understood the language of birds. To him

the bird delivered the message of the maiden, and besought him

to convey it to the prince. "Tell the raven," said the prince

to the magician's son, "that he must return, and say to the

maiden, 'Sleep not on the ninth night, for a deliverer will

then appear to rescue the chick from the claws of the hawk.'"

They gave the raven a piece of meat as a reward for his message

and to strengthen his wings, and then sent him back again. The

maiden thanked the bird for his news, but concealed his message

carefully in her own bosom, so that the others heard nothing of

it. But as the ninth day approached her heart grew ever

heavier, for she dreaded

[Pg 217]

lest some unexpected mischance might yet ruin all.

When the ninth night came, and the mother and daughters had

retired to rest, the youngest sister stole from the house on

tip-toe, and sat down on the grass under a tree to wait for her

lover. Her heart was full of mingled hope and fear. The cock

had already crowed twice, but there was not a step nor a voice

to be heard in the wood. But between the second and third

cockcrow she heard the distant sound of horses' hoofs. Guided

by the sound, she made her way in their direction, lest the

noise of their approach should rouse the sleeping household.

She soon caught sight of the troop of soldiers, at whose head

rode the prince himself, guiding them by the secret marks he

had made on the trees when he departed. As soon as he perceived

the maiden, he sprang from his horse, lifted her into the

saddle, seated himself before her, so that she could cling to

him, and then hastened homewards. The moon shone so brightly

between the trees that the soldiers could not miss the track.

Presently the birds roused up, and began to chirp and twitter

in the dawning light. And if the maiden had had time to listen

to their

[Pg 218]

warnings, they would have profited her more than the honeyed

words of her lover, which were all that reached her ear. But

she saw and heard nothing but the voice of her lover, who bade

her dismiss all idle fears, and to trust in the protection of

the soldiers. The sun was already high in the heavens when

they left the forest and emerged into the open country.

Fortunately the old mother did not discover her daughter's

flight very early in the morning. It was only when she found

that the twists of thread had not been wound that she asked

what had become of the youngest sister, but no one could

inform her. There were many indications to show that she had

fled, and the mother immediately devised a crafty plan to

punish the fugitive. She went out and gathered a handful of

nine

[131] different sorts of magic herbs, scattered charmed salt

over them, and tied up the whole in a bundle. Then she muttered

curses and imprecations over the witch-packet, and cast it to

the winds, saying—

"Lend the ball thy wings, O whirlwind!

Mother of the wind, thy pinions;

Drive the witch's bundle onward,

[Pg 219]

Let it fly with wind-like swiftness,

Let it scatter death around it,

Let it cast disease beyond it."

Somewhat before noon the prince and his army arrived on the bank of a

broad river, over which a narrow bridge had been thrown, which only

permitted the soldiers to pass one by one. The prince was just riding

on the middle of the bridge, when the witch's bundle came flying along,

borne by the wind, and attacked his horse like a gadfly. The horse

snorted with terror, reared up on his hind-legs, and before any help

could be given, the maiden slid from the saddle and fell headlong into

the river. The prince would have leaped in after her, but the soldiers

seized hold of him and prevented him, for the river was of unfathomable

depth, and no human aid could avail to remedy the misfortune which had

happened.

The prince was almost distracted with grief and horror, and the

soldiers forced him to accompany them home against his will. He

lay in a quiet room for weeks mourning over the calamity, and

at first refused all food and drink. The king summoned

magicians from all quarters, but none of them could discover

the nature of the disease

[Pg 220]

or suggest any remedy. But one day the son of the

wind-sorcerer, who was one of the labourers in the king's

garden, advised, "Send to Finland for the oldest of all

magicians, for he is wiser than the magicians of our country."

When the king heard this, he sent a messenger to the old Finnish

sorcerer, who arrived after a week on the wings of the wind. He spoke

thus to the king: "Mighty king, the disease which afflicts the prince

is caused by the wind. An evil witch-packet has robbed the prince of

the half of his heart, and therefore he suffers unceasingly. Send him

often into the wind that the wind may bear away his sorrows into the

forest."

He was not wrong, for the health of the prince soon began to improve,

his appetite grew better, and he was able to sleep at night. At last he

confided the sorrow of his heart to his parents, and his father wished

him to seek out another young bride to lead home; but the prince would

not listen to the proposal.

The young man had already passed a year in mourning, when one

day he happened to come to the bridge where he had lost his

betrothed, and bitter tears rose to his eyes at the

recollection.

[Pg 221]

Suddenly he heard a sweet voice singing, although no living

creature was in sight. And the voice sang:

"By the mother's curse o'ertaken,

Sank in flood the hapless maiden,

In the watery grave the fair one,

And in Ahti's

[132] waves thy darling."

The prince dismounted from his horse, and looked round everywhere to

see whether some one might not be hidden under the bridge, but he could

see no singer anywhere. The only object visible was a water-lily,

swaying on the water amid its broad leaves. But a swaying flower could

not sing, and there must be something mysterious about it. He tied his

horse to a stump on the bank, and sat down on the bridge to listen,

hoping that his eyes or ears would give him some solution of the

riddle. All was still for a while, but presently the invisible singer

sang again:

"By the mother's curse o'ertaken,

Sank in flood the hapless maiden,

In the watery grave the fair one,

And in Ahti's waves thy darling."

Sometimes the wind brings a fortunate idea to

[Pg 222]

men, and such was the case now. The prince thought, "If I rode

alone to the cottage in the wood, who knows but that the

gold-spinners might be able to give me some explanation of

this wonderful occurrence." He mounted his horse and rode

towards the forest. He hoped to find his way easily by the

former indications, but the wood had grown, and he rode for

more than one day before he could discover the footpath. When

he drew near the cottage, he stopped and waited, hoping that

one of the maidens would come out. Early in the morning the

eldest sister came out to wash her face at the spring. The

young man went to her, and told her of the misfortune that had

happened on the bridge the year before, and of the song which

he had heard there a day or two ago. It happened that the old

mother was absent from home, and the maiden invited the prince

into the house. As soon as the two girls heard his story, they

knew that the misfortune must have been caused by their

mother's witch's coil, and that their sister was not dead, but

only enchanted. The eldest sister inquired, "Did you see

nothing on the surface of the water from whence the song might

have proceeded?" "Nothing," replied the

[Pg 223]

prince. "As far as my eyes could reach, nothing could be

perceived on the surface of the water but a yellow water-lily

surrounded by its broad leaves; but leaves and flowers cannot

sing." The maidens immediately suspected that the water-lily

could be nothing but their sister, who had fallen into the

water, and had been changed into a flower by enchantment. They

knew that their old mother had let fly the witch's coil after

the maiden, with her curse, and that if it had not killed her,

it might have transformed her into any shape. But they would

not tell the prince of their suspicions until they could

devise some means for their sister's release, lest they might

inspire him with fruitless hopes. As they did not expect their

mother to return home for some days, there was plenty of time

to consider the best course to adopt.

In the evening the eldest sister gathered a sufficient quantity

of various magic herbs, which she rubbed with flour into a

dough; and baked a pie which she gave to the young man to eat

before he retired to rest at night. During the night the prince

had a wonderful dream. He thought that he was in the wood among

the birds, and that he could understand the

[Pg 224]

language of them all. In the morning he related his dream to

the maidens, and the eldest sister observed, "You have come to

us at a fortunate hour, and you have had your dream at a

fortunate hour, for it will be fulfilled on your way home. The

pork pie which I baked for your welfare yesterday, and gave

you to eat, was mixed with magic herbs which will enable you

to understand everything which the knowing birds say to one

another. These little feathered people are gifted with much

wisdom which is unknown to mankind. Turn a sharp ear to

whatever their beaks may utter. And when your own time of

trouble is over, do not forget us poor children, who sit here

at the spinning-wheel as if in an eternal prison."

The prince thanked the maidens for their kindness, and promised to do

his best to release them, either by ransom or by force. He then took

leave of them and turned his way homewards. The maidens were pleased to

find that the threads were not broken, and still retained their golden

lustre, so that their mother would have no cause to reproach them when

she returned.

The prince found his ride through the wood

[Pg 225]

still more pleasant. He seemed to be surrounded with a

numerous company, for the singing and chirping of the birds

sounded like articulate words to his ears. He was greatly

surprised to find how much wisdom is lost to men who do not

understand the language of birds. At first the wanderer was

not able to understand clearly what the feathered people were

saying, for they were talking of the affairs of various

persons who were unknown to him; but suddenly he saw a magpie

and a thrush sitting in a tall pine-tree, who were talking

about himself.

"How great is the stupidity of men!" said the thrush. "They

cannot rightly comprehend the most trifling matter. For a whole

year the foster-child of a lame old woman has been sitting near

the bridge in the form of a water-lily, lamenting her sad fate

in song, but no one has been able to release her. A few days

ago her lover was riding over the bridge, and heard her

melancholy song, but he was no wiser than anybody else." The

magpie answered, "And yet the maiden was punished by her mother

on his account. Unless he is gifted with greater wisdom that

falls to the lot of men, she must remain a flower for ever."

"It would be a trifling matter

[Pg 226]

to release the maiden," said the thrush, "if the matter were

fully explained to the old magician of Finland. He could

easily deliver her from her watery prison and flowery

bondage."

This conversation made the young man thoughtful, and as he rode on, he

began to consider what messenger he could send to Finland. Presently he

heard one swallow say to another over his head, "Let us go to Finland,

where we can build our nests better than here."

"Stay, friends," cried the prince in the language of the birds. "Please

to convey a thousand compliments from me to the old sorcerer of

Finland, and ask him to give me directions how to restore a maiden who

has been transformed into a water-lily to her original form." The

swallows promised to fulfil his request, and flew away.

When he came to the bank of the river, he allowed his horse to

graze, and remained standing on the bridge, to listen whether

he could not hear the song again. But all was still, and he

could hear nothing but the rushing of the waters and the

sighing of the wind. At last he mounted his horse unwillingly

and rode home, but did not

[Pg 227]

say a word to any one of his excursion and his adventure.

He was sitting in the garden a week afterwards, and thinking

that the swallows must have forgotten his message, when a great

eagle circled above him high in the air. The bird gradually

descended, and at length alighted on the branch of a lime-tree

near the prince, and thus addressed him: "I bring you greetings

from the old sorcerer in Finland, who hopes that you will not

think ill of him that he did not reply to your message sooner,

for he could not find a messenger who was coming this way. It

is a very simple matter to disenchant the maiden. You have only

to go to the bank of the river, throw off your clothes, and

smear yourself all over with mud till not a speck remains

white. Then take the tip of your nose between your fingers, and

say, 'Let the man become a crayfish.' Immediately you will

become a crayfish, when you can descend into the river without

any fear of being drowned. Squeeze yourself boldly under the

roots of the water-lily, and clear them from mud and reeds, so

that no portion remains fixed. Then grasp one of the roots with

your pincers, and the water will raise you with the flower to

the surface. Allow

[Pg 228]

yourself to drift with the stream till you see a rowan-tree

[133] with leafy branches on the left bank. Near the rowan-tree

is a rock about as high as a small bath-house. When you reach

the rock you must say, 'Let the water-lily become a maiden and

the crayfish a man!' and it will be accomplished immediately."

When the eagle had delivered his message, he spread his wings,

and flew away. The young man looked after him for a time, not

knowing what to think of the whole affair.

A week passed by, and found him still undecided, for he had

neither courage nor confidence sufficient to undertake such an

enterprise. At length a crow said to him, "Why do you neglect

to follow the old man's advice? The old sorcerer has never

given false information, and the language of birds never

deceives. Hasten to the river, and let the maiden dry your

tears of longing." This gave the young man courage, for he

reflected, "Nothing worse can befall me but death, and death is

easier than constant weeping." He mounted his horse and took

the well-known path to the banks of the

[Pg 229]

river. When he came to the bridge, he could distinguish the

song:

"By my mother's curse o'ertaken,

Here I lie in slumber sunken;

Here the youthful maid must languish

On the bosom of the waters,

And the bed is cold and oozy

Where the tender maid is resting."

The prince dismounted, and hobbled his horse to prevent him from

straying too far from the bridge. Then he took off his clothes, and

smeared himself over and over with mud, so that no spot remained white.

After this, he caught hold of the end of his nose, and jumped into the

water, exclaiming, "Let the man become a crayfish." There was a splash

in the water, and then everything became as still as before.

The prince, now transformed into a crayfish, immediately began

to disentangle the roots of the water-lily from the bed of the

river, but it took him a long time. The roots were firmly fixed

in the sand and mud, so that the crayfish had to work for seven

whole days before he could complete his task. Then he seized

one of the rootlets with his pincers, and the water

[Pg 230]

buoyed him up to the surface with the flower. They drifted

along slowly with the current, but although there were plenty

of trees and bushes on the banks, it was some time before the

prince caught sight of the rowan-tree and the rock. At last,

however, he spied the tree with its leaves and clusters of red

berries on the left bank, and a little farther on stood the

rock, which was as high as a small bath-house. Upon this he

cried out, "Let the water-lily become a maiden and the

crayfish a man." Then the youth and the maiden swam with their

heads above the water. The water bore them to the bank, but

they were both mother-naked, as God had created them.

Then said the shame-faced maiden, "Dear youth, I have no

clothes to put on, and cannot come out of the water." But the

prince answered, "Go ashore near the rowan-tree, and I will

shut my eyes while you climb up and hide yourself under the

tree. Then I will hurry to the bridge where I left my horse and

my clothes when I plunged into the river." So the maiden hid

herself under the tree, while the prince hurried to the spot

where he had left his horse and his

[Pg 231]

clothes, but he could find neither one nor the other. He did

not know that he had passed so many days in the form of a

crayfish, and supposed that he had only spent a few hours in

the water. Presently he saw a magnificent chariot with six

horses coming slowly along the bank to meet him. In the

chariot he found everything needful both for himself and for

the maiden whom he had released from her watery prison, as

well as an attendant and a lady's maid. The prince kept the

attendant with him, but sent the chariot and the maid with the

clothes to the spot where his naked darling was waiting under

the rowan-tree. Rather more than an hour elapsed before the

coach returned, bringing the maiden attired as a royal bride

to the spot where the prince was waiting. He also was richly

dressed in wedding robes, and seated himself by her side in

the chariot. They drove straight to the city, and stopped

before the door of the church. In the church sat the king and

queen in black garments, mourning for the loss of their

beloved son, who was supposed to have been drowned in the

river, for his horse and his clothes had been found on the

bank. Great was their joy

[Pg 232]

when their lost son appeared before them, accompanied by a

beautiful girl, both in wedding attire. The king himself led

them to the altar, and they were married. Then a wedding-feast

was prepared, which lasted for six whole weeks.

But there is no peace nor rest in the course of time, for days

of happiness appear to pass more quickly than hours of trouble.

Soon after the wedding, autumn set in, followed by frost and

snow, and the young couple did not feel much inclination to

leave the house. But when spring returned, the prince and his

young consort went to walk in the garden. There they heard a

magpie crying out from the summit of a tree, "O what an

ungrateful creature to neglect the friends who have helped him

so much, in his days of happiness! Must the two poor girls sit

spinning gold thread all their lives? The lame old woman is not

the mother of the maidens, but a wicked witch who stole them

away from a far country when they were children. The old woman

has committed many crimes, and deserves no mercy. Let her be

punished with boiled hemlock, or she will perhaps direct

another witch's coil against the child who has been rescued."

[Pg 233]

This reminded the prince of all that had happened, and he told his

consort how he had gone to the cottage in the wood to ask the advice of

her sisters, and how the maidens had taught him the language of birds,

and he had promised to release them from their servitude. His wife

begged him with tears in her eyes to go to the aid of her sisters. When

they awoke next morning, she said, "I had an important dream last

night. I dreamed that the old mother had left the house, and that the

girls were alone. No doubt this would be a good opportunity to go to

their aid."

The prince immediately equipped a troop of soldiers, and led

them to the cottage in the wood, where they arrived on the

following day. The maidens were alone, as the dream had

fore-shadowed, and ran out with joyful cries to meet their

deliverers. A soldier was ordered to gather hemlock-roots, and

to boil them for the punishment of the old woman, so that she

should need no more food if she came home, and ate a

sufficiency of them. They passed the night in the cottage, and

on the following morning set out early on the road with the

maidens, so that they reached the town in the evening. Great

was the joy of the

[Pg 234]

sisters, who had not seen each other for two years.

The old woman returned home the same night, and greedily

devoured the food which she found on the table. Then she crept

into bed to rest, but she never awoke again, for the hemlock

put an end to her wicked life. A week later the prince sent a

trusty captain to see how things were going on, when he found

the old woman dead. Fifty loads of golden thread were found in

the secret chamber, and were divided among the sisters. As soon

as the treasure was carried away, the captain sent the red cock

on the roof.

[134] But while the cock was already stretching his red comb

out of the smoke-hole, a great cat with fiery eyes clambered

down the wall from the roof. The soldiers chased the cat, and

soon caught her, when a bird sang from the summit of a tree,

"Fix the cat in a trap by her tail, and all will come to

light." The men obeyed.

"Don't torture me, good people," said the cat. "I am a human

being like yourselves, and have been changed into the shape of

a cat by witchcraft, though it was a just return for my

wickedness.

[Pg 235]

I was the housekeeper in the palace of a great king a long way

from here, and the old woman was the queen's first

chambermaid. We were led by avarice to plot together secretly

to steal the king's three daughters and a great treasure, and

then to make our escape. After we had contrived to make away

with all the golden vessels, which the old woman changed into

golden flax, we took the children, when the eldest was three

years old, and the youngest six months. The old woman was

afraid that I might repent and change my intentions, so she

transformed me into a cat. Her death loosed my tongue, but I

did not recover my former shape." When the captain heard this,

he answered, "You deserve no better fate than the old woman,"

and ordered her to be thrown into the fire.

It was not long before the two elder princesses married kings' sons,

like their youngest sister, and the golden thread which they had spun

in the cottage in the wood provided them with rich dowries. But they

never discovered their parents, nor the place of their birth. It was

reported that the old woman had buried many more loads of golden thread

in the ground, but no one could find the spot.

[Pg 236]

SECTION II

_ORPHAN AND FOUNDLING STORIES_

The Esthonians appear to be very compassionate towards orphans, for

many of their tales relate to the adventures of neglected or ill-used

orphan children, and the wonderful events by which their welfare was

finally secured. Nevertheless, wicked stepmothers and farmers' wives

are just as common as in other folk-tales.

The first story of this class which we have selected, "The Wood

of Tontla,"

[135] is specially interesting from its resemblance to Tieck's

well-known German story of "The Elves," which must originally

have been derived from the same source as the present

narrative.

With the Orphan Stories proper I have placed others relating to stolen

or friendless children.