The barn-keeper advised him to court old maids or widows, who would be

much easier to win, and who would not be so likely to despise a suitor.

The Old Boy took his advice, and some weeks afterwards married an old

maid; but it was not long before he came back to the barn-keeper to

complain of his troubles. His newly-married wife was full of tricks;

she left him no rest night or day, and tormented him continually. "What

sort of a man are you," laughed the barn-keeper, "to allow your wife to

wear the trousers? If you marry a wife, you must take care to be

master." The Old Boy answered, "I couldn't manage her. If she chose to

bring anybody else into the house, I couldn't venture to set foot in

it." The barn-keeper sought to comfort him, and advised him to try his

luck elsewhere; but the Old Boy thought that the first trial was

enough, and had no inclination to put his neck under a woman's yoke

again.[Pg 197]

In the autumn of the following year, when threshing had begun again,

the old acquaintance of the barn-keeper paid him another visit. The

latter saw that the peasant had something on his mind, but he asked no

questions, thinking it best to wait till the other broached the matter

himself. He had not long to wait before he heard all the old fellow's

misfortunes. During the summer he had made the acquaintance of a young

widow who cooed like a dove, so that the little man again thought of

courtship. In short, he married her, but discovered afterwards that she

was a shocking scold at home, who would gladly have scratched his eyes

out of his head, and he had cause to thank his stars that he had

escaped from her hands. The barn-keeper remarked, "I see you're good

for nothing as a husband, for you are chicken-hearted, and don't know

how to manage a wife." The Old Boy was forced to acknowledge that it

was true. After they had talked awhile about women and marriage, the

Old Boy said, "If you are really such a bold man as you pretend, and

could tame the most hellish[60] woman that exists, I will show you a

way by which you can turn your courage to better[Pg 198] account than

by subduing a violent woman. Do you know the ruins of the old castle on

the mountain? A great treasure lies there since ancient times, which no

one has been able to get at, just because nobody has had enough courage

to dig it up." The barn-keeper said, smiling, "If nothing more is

needed than courage, the treasure is already as good as in my pocket."

Then the Old Boy told him that he must go to dig up the treasure next

Thursday night, when the moon would be full; but added, "Take good care

that you are not a bit afraid, for if your heart fails you, or if only

a muscle of your body trembles, you will not only lose the expected

treasure, but may even lose your life, like many others who have tried

their luck before you. If you don't believe me, you may go into any

farmhouse, and the people will tell you what they have heard about the

walls of the old castle. Many people even profess to have seen

something with their own eyes. But once more, if you value your life,

and wish to possess the treasure, beware of all fear."

On the morning of the appointed Thursday, the barn-keeper set out, and

although he did not feel the slightest fear, he turned into the village

inn,[Pg 199] hoping to find somebody there who could give him some kind

of information about the ruins of the old castle. He asked the landlord

what the old ruins on the hill were, and whether people knew anything

about who built them, and who destroyed them. An old farmer, who

overheard the question, gave him the following information: "The report

goes that a very rich squire lived there many centuries ago, who was

lord over vast territories and a great population. This lord ruled with

an iron hand, and treated his subjects with great severity, but he had

amassed vast wealth by their sweat and blood, and gold and silver

poured into his castle on all sides in hogsheads. Here he stored his

wealth in deep cellars, where it was secure from thieves and robbers.

No one knows how the wealthy miscreant came to his end. One morning the

attendants found his bed empty and three drops of blood on the floor. A

great black cat, which was never seen before or afterwards, was sitting

on the canopy of the bed. It is supposed that this cat was the Evil

Spirit[61] himself, who had[Pg 200] strangled the squire in his bed in

this form, and had then carried him off to Põrgu to expiate his crimes.

As soon as the relatives of the squire heard of his death, they wished

to secure his treasures, but not a single copeck was to be found. It

was at first thought that the servants had stolen it, and they were

brought to trial; but as they knew that they were innocent, nothing

could be extracted from them, even under the torture. In the meantime,

many people heard a chinking like money deep under ground at night, and

informed the authorities; and as this was investigated and the report

confirmed, the servants were set at liberty. The strange nocturnal

chinking was often heard afterwards, and many people dug for the

treasure, but nothing was discovered, and no one returned from the

caverns under the castle, for they were doubtless seized upon by the

same power which had brought the owner of the money to such a dreadful

end. Every one saw that there was something uncanny about it, and no

one dared to live in the old castle. At length the roof and walls fell

in from long exposure to rain and wind, and nothing was left[Pg 201]

but an old ruin. No one dares to spend the night near it, and still

less would any one be rash enough to seek for the ancient treasure

there." So said the old farmer.

When the barn-keeper had heard the story, he said, half joking, "I

should like to try my luck. Who'll go with me to-morrow night?" The men

made the sign of the cross, and declared that their lives were more to

them than all the treasures in the world, and that no one could reach

these treasures without losing his soul. Then they begged the stranger

to recall his words, and not to pledge himself to the Evil One. But the

bold barn-keeper gave no heed to their entreaties and expostulations,

and resolved to attempt the adventure alone. In the evening he asked

the host for a bundle of pine-splinters, that he might not be in the

dark, and then inquired the nearest way to the ruins.

One of the peasants, who seemed to be a little bolder than the others,

went with him for some distance as his guide with a lighted lantern. As

the sky was cloudy, and it was quite dark, the barn-keeper was obliged

to grope his way. The whistling of the wind and the screeching of the

owls[Pg 202] were terrible to hear, but could not frighten his bold

heart. As soon as he was able to strike a light under the shelter of

the masonry, he lit a splinter and looked about for a door or an

opening through which he could get down underground. After looking

about fruitlessly for some time, at last he discovered a hole at the

foot of the wall, which seemed to lead downwards. He put the burning

splinter in a crack in the wall, and cleared out so much earth and

rubbish with his hands that he could creep through. After he had gone

some distance, he came to a flight of stone stairs, and there was now

room enough for him to stand upright. He descended the stairs with his

bundle of splinters on his shoulder and one burning in his hand, and at

last reached an iron door, which was not locked. He pushed the heavy

door open, and was about to enter, when a large black cat with fiery

eyes dashed through the door like the wind and rushed up the stairs.

The barn-keeper thought, "That must be what strangled the lord of the

castle;" so he pushed the door to, threw down the bundle of splinters,

and then examined the place more carefully. It was a great wide hall,

with doors everywhere in the walls; he[Pg 203] counted twelve, and

considered which he should try first. "Seven's a lucky number," said

he, so he counted till he came to the seventh door, but it was locked,

and would not yield. But when he pushed at the door with all his

strength, the rusty lock gave way and the door flew open. When the

barn-keeper entered, he found a room of moderate size; on one side

stood a table and bench, and at the opposite wall was a stove, with a

bundle of faggots lying on the ground near the hearth. The inspector

then lit a fire, and by its light he found a small pot and a cup of

flour standing on the stove, and some salt in a salt-cellar. "Look

here!" cried the barn-keeper. "Here I find something to eat

unexpectedly; I have some water with me in my flask, and can cook some

warm porridge." So he set the pot on the fire, put some flour and water

into it, added some salt, stirred it with a splinter of wood, and

boiled his porridge well, after which he poured it into the cup, and

set it on the table. The bright fire lit up the room, and he did not

need to light a splinter. The bold barn-keeper seated himself at the

table, took the spoon, and began to eat the warm porridge. All at once

he looked up and saw the black[Pg 204] cat with the fiery eyes sitting

on the stove. He could not comprehend how the beast had come there, as

he had seen it running up the stairs with his own eyes. After this,

three loud knocks were struck on the door, till the walls and floor

shook. The barn-keeper did not lose his presence of mind, but cried out

loudly, "Let anybody enter who has a head on his shoulders!"

Immediately the door flew wide open, and the black cat sprang from the

stove and darted through, while sparks of fire flew from its eyes and

mouth. As soon as the cat had disappeared, four tall men entered, clad

in long white coats, and wearing caps of flame-colour, which shone so

brightly that the room became as bright as day. The men carried a bier

on their shoulders, and a coffin stood upon it, but still the bold

barn-keeper did not feel the least bit afraid. The men set the coffin

on the ground without speaking a word, and then one after another went

out at the door, and closed it behind them. The cat whined and

scratched at the door, as if it wanted to get in, but the barn-keeper

did not concern himself, and only ate his warm porridge. When he had

eaten enough, he stood up, and looked at the coffin. He broke open the

lid, and beneath it[Pg 205] he beheld a little man with a long white

beard. The barn-keeper lifted him out, and carried him to the fire to

warm him. It was not long before the little old man began to revive,

and to move his hands and feet. The bold barn-keeper was not a bit

afraid; he took the porridge-pot and the spoon from the table, and

began to feed the old man. The latter said presently, "Thank you, my

son, for taking pity on such a poor creature as I am, and reviving my

body, which was stiff with cold and hunger. I will give you such a

princely reward for your good deed that you shall not forget me as long

as you live. Behind the stove you will find some pitch-torches, light

one and come with me. But first make the door securely fast, that the

furious cat may not get in to break your neck. We will afterwards make

it so tame that it cannot hurt anybody again."

As he spoke, the old man raised a square trap-door about three feet

broad from the floor, and it was plain that the stone covered the

entrance to a cellar. The old man went down the steps first, and the

barn-keeper followed him with the torch till they reached a terribly

deep cavern.

In this great cellar-like arched cavern lay an[Pg 206] enormous heap of

money, as big as the largest haycock, half silver and half gold. The

little old man took from a cupboard in the wall a handful of

wax-candles, three bottles of wine, a smoked ham, and a loaf of bread.

Then he said to the barn-keeper, "I give you three days' time to count

and sort this heap. You must divide the heap into two equal parts,

exactly alike, and so that nothing remains over. While you are busy

with this, I will lie down by the wall to sleep, but take care not to

make the least mistake or I'll strangle you."

The barn-keeper at once set to work, and the old man lay down. In order

to guard against any mistake, the barn-keeper always took two similar

coins to divide, whether thalers or roubles, gold or silver, and he

laid one on his right, and the other on his left, to form two heaps.

When he found his strength failing, he took a pull at one of the

bottles, ate some bread and meat, and then set to work with renewed

strength. As he only allowed himself a short sleep at night, in order

to get on with his work, he had already finished the sorting on the

evening of the second day, but one small piece of silver remained over.

What was to be done? This did not trouble the bold barn-keeper; he drew

his[Pg 207] knife from his pocket, laid the blade on the middle of the

coin, and struck the back of the knife so hard with a stone that the

coin was split in two halves. One half he laid to the right heap, and

the other to the left, after which he roused up the old man, and asked

him to inspect the work. When the old man saw the two halves of the

last coin lying on the heap to the right and left, he uttered a cry of

joy, and fell on the neck of the barn-keeper, stroked his cheeks, and

at last exclaimed, "A thousand and again a thousand thanks to you,

brave youth, for releasing me from my long, long captivity. I have been

obliged to watch over my treasure here for many hundred years, because

there was no one who had sufficient courage or sense to divide the

money so that nothing was left over. I was therefore forced by a

binding oath to strangle one after another, and as no one returned, for

the last two hundred years no one has dared to come here, though there

was not a night which I allowed to pass without jingling the money. But

it was destined for you, O child of good luck! to become my deliverer,

after I had almost abandoned all hope, and fancied myself doomed to

eternal imprisonment. Thanks, a thousand thanks, for your good deed![Pg

208] Take now one of these heaps of money as the reward for your

trouble, but the other you must divide among the poor, as an atonement

for my grievous sins; for when I lived on earth in this castle I was a

great libertine and scoundrel. You have still to accomplish one task

for my benefit, and for your own. When you go upstairs again, and you

meet the great black cat on the stairs, seize it and hang it up. Here

is a noose from which it cannot escape again."

Hereupon he took from his bosom a chain woven of fine gold thread, as

thick as a shoe-string, which he handed to the barn-keeper, and then

vanished, as if he had sunk into the ground. A tremendous crash

followed, as if the earth had cloven asunder beneath the barn-keeper's

feet. The light went out, and he found himself in thick darkness, but

even this unexpected event did not shake his courage. He contrived to

grope his way till he came to the stairs, which he ascended till he

reached the first room, where he had boiled his porridge. The fire in

the hearth had long been extinguished, but he found some sparks among

the ashes, which he succeeded in blowing into a flame. The coffin was

still standing on the ground, but instead of[Pg 209] the old man, the

great black cat was sleeping in it. The barn-keeper seized it by the

head, slipped the gold chain round its neck, hung it on a strong iron

nail in the wall, and then laid down on the floor to rest.

Next morning he made his way out of the ruins, and took the nearest

path to the inn from whence he had started. When the host saw that the

stranger had escaped unhurt, his joy and astonishment knew no bounds.

But the barn-keeper said, "Get me a few dozen sacks to hold a ton, for

which I will pay well, and hire horses, so that I can fetch away my

treasure." Then the host perceived that the stranger's expedition had

not been fruitless, and he immediately fulfilled the rich man's orders.

When the barn-keeper learned from the people what part of the old man's

domains was formerly under the authority of the lord of the castle, he

assigned one-third of the money destined for the poor to this district,

handed over the remaining two-thirds to the local authorities for

distribution, and settled himself with his own money in a distant

country, where nobody knew him. His descendants live there as rich

people to this day, and[Pg 210] extol the bravery of their ancestor,

who carried off the treasure.

THE GALLOWS-DWARFS.

(Kreutzwald.)

Once upon a time a parson was looking out for a servant who would

undertake to toll the church bell at midnight in addition to his other

duties. Many men had already made the attempt, but whenever they went

to toll the bell at night, they disappeared as suddenly as if they had

sunk into the ground, for the bell was not heard to toll, and the

bell-ringer never came back. The parson kept the matter as quiet as

possible, but the sudden disappearance of so many men could not be

concealed, and he could no longer find anybody willing to enter his

service.

The more the matter was talked about, the more seriously it was

discussed, and there were even malicious tongues to whisper that the

parson himself murdered his servants. Every Sunday the parson

proclaimed from the pulpit after the sermon, "I am in want of a good

servant, and offer double[Pg 211] wages, good keep," &c.; but for many

months no one applied for the post. However, one day the crafty

Hans[62] offered his services. He had been last in the employment of a

stingy master, and the offer of good keep was therefore very attractive

to him, and he was quite ready to enter on his duties at once. "Very

well, my son," said the parson, "if you are armed with courage and

trust in God, you may make your first trial to-night, and we will

conclude our bargain to-morrow."

Hans was quite content, and went into the servants' room without

troubling his head about his new employment. The parson was a miser,

and was always vexed when his servants ate too much, and generally came

into the room during their meals, hoping that they would eat less in

his presence. He also encouraged them to drink as much as possible,

thinking that the more they drank, the less they would be able to eat.

But Hans was more cunning than his master, for he emptied the jug at

one draught, saying, "That makes twice as much room for the food." The

parson thought this was really the case, and no longer urged his[Pg

212] people to drink, while Hans laughed in his sleeve at the success

of his trick.

It was about eleven o'clock at night when Hans entered the church. He

found the interior lighted up, and was rather surprised when he saw a

numerous company, who were not assembled for purposes of devotion. The

people were sitting at a long table playing cards. But Hans was not a

bit frightened, or, if he secretly felt a little alarm, he was cunning

enough to show nothing of it. He went straight to the table and sat

down with the players. One of them noticed him, and said, "Friend, what

business have you here?" Hans gave him a good stare, and presently

answered, "It would be better for a meddler like you to hold his

tongue. If anybody here has a right to ask questions, I think I'm the

man. But if I don't care to avail myself of my right, I certainly think

it would be more polite of you to hold your jaw." Hans then took up the

cards, and began to play with the strangers as if they were his best

friends. He had good luck, for he doubled his stakes, and emptied the

pockets of many of the other players. Presently the cock crew. Midnight

must have come; and in a moment the lights were extinguished,[Pg 213]

and the players, with their table and benches, vanished. Hans groped

about in the dark church for some time before he could find the door

which led to the belfry.

When Hans had nearly reached the top of the first flight, he saw a

little man without a head sitting on the top step. "Oho, my little

fellow! what do you want here?" cried Hans, and, without waiting for an

answer, he gave him a good kick and sent him rolling down the long

flight of stairs. He found the same kind of little sentinel posted on

the top stair of the second, third, and fourth flights, and pitched

them down one after another, so that all the bones in their bodies

rattled.

At last Hans reached the bell without further hindrance. When he looked

up, to make sure that all was right, he saw another headless little man

sitting crouched together in the bell. He had loosened the clapper, and

seemed to be waiting for Hans to pull the bell-rope, to drop the heavy

clapper on his head, which would certainly have killed him. "Wait a

while, my little friend," cried Hans; "we haven't bargained for this.

You may have seen how I rolled your little comrades downstairs without

tiring their own legs! You your[Pg 214]self shall follow them. But

because you sit the highest, you shall make the proudest journey. I'll

pitch you out of the loophole, so that you'll have no wish to come back

again."

As he spoke, he raised the ladder, intending to drag the little man out

of the bell and fulfil his threat. The dwarf saw his danger, and began

to beg, "Dear brother, spare my wretched life, and I promise that

neither my brothers nor I will again interfere with the bellringer at

night. I may seem small and contemptible, but who knows whether I may

not some day be able to do more for your welfare than offer you a

beggar's thanks?"

"Poor little fellow!" laughed Hans. "Your ransom wouldn't be worth a

gnat. But as I'm in a good humour just now, I'm willing to spare your

life. But take care not to come in my way again, for I might not be

inclined to trifle with you another time."

The headless dwarf gave him his humble thanks, clambered down the

bell-rope like a squirrel, and bolted down the belfry-stairs as if he

was on fire, while Hans tolled the bell to his heart's content.

When the parson heard the bell tolling at midnight he was surprised and

pleased at having at last found a servant who had withstood the

ordeal.[Pg 215]

After Hans had finished his work he went into the hayloft, and lay down

to sleep.

The parson was in the habit of getting up early in the morning, and

going to see whether his people were about their work. All were in

their places except the new servant, and nobody had seen anything of

him. When eleven o'clock came, and Hans still made no appearance, the

parson became anxious, and began to fear that the bell-ringer had met

his death like those before him. But when the rattle was used to call

the workmen to dinner, Hans likewise appeared among them.

"Where have you been all morning?" asked the parson.

"I've been asleep," answered Hans, yawning.

"Asleep?" cried the parson in amazement. "You don't mean that you sleep

every day till this hour?"

"I think," answered Hans, "it's as clear as spring-water. Nobody can

serve two masters. He who works at night must sleep during the day, for

night was meant for labourers to rest. If you relieve me from tolling

the bell at night, I'm quite ready to set to work at daybreak. But if I

have to toll the bell at night, I must sleep in the daytime, at any

rate till mid-day."[Pg 216]

After disputing over the matter for some time, they finally agreed on

the following conditions:—Hans was to be relieved of his nocturnal

duties, and was to work from sunrise to sunset. He was to be allowed to

sleep for half-an-hour after nine o'clock in the morning, and for a

whole hour after dinner, and was to have the whole of Sunday free.

"But," said the parson, "you might sometimes help with odd jobs at

other times, especially in winter, when the days are short, and the

work would then last longer."

"Not at all," cried Hans, "for that's why the days are longer in

summer. I won't do any more than work from sunrise to sunset on

week-days, as I promised."

Some time afterwards the parson was asked to attend a grand christening

in town. The town was only a few hours from the parsonage, but Hans

took a bag of provisions with him. "What's that for?" said the parson.

"We shall get to town before evening." But Hans answered, "Who can

foresee everything? Many things may happen on the road to interfere

with our journey, and you know that our bargain was that I am only

obliged to serve you till sunset. If the sun sets before we reach town,

you'll have to finish your journey alone."[Pg 217]

They were in the middle of the forest when the sun set. Hans stopped

the horses, took up his provision-bag, and jumped out of the sledge.

"What are you doing, Hans? Are you mad?" asked the pastor of souls. But

Hans answered quietly, "I'm going to sleep here; for the sun has set,

and my time of work is over." His master did his utmost to move him

with alternate threats and entreaties, but it was all of no use, and at

last he promised him a good present and an increase in his wages. "Are

you not ashamed, Mr. Parson?" said Hans. "Would you tempt me to stray

from the right way and break my agreement? All the treasures of the

earth would not induce me, for you hold a man by his word, and an ox by

his horns. If you want to go to town to-night, travel on alone, in

God's name; for I can't go any farther with you, now that my hours of

service have expired."

"But, my good Hans, my dear fellow," said the parson, "I really can't

leave you here all alone by yourself. Don't you see the gallows close

by, with two evil-doers hanging on it, whose souls are now burning in

hell? Surely you wouldn't venture to pass the night in the

neighbourhood of such company?"[Pg 218]

"Why not?" said Hans. "These gallows-birds are hanging up in the air,

and I shall sleep on the ground below, so we can't interfere with each

other." As he spoke he turned his back to his master and went off with

his provision-bag.

If the parson would not miss the christening, it was necessary for him

to go to town alone. The people were much astonished to see him arrive

without a coachman; but when he had related his astonishing altercation

with Hans, they could not make up their minds whether the master or the

servant was the biggest fool of the two.

Hans cared nothing about what the people thought or said of him. He ate

his supper, lit himself a pipe to warm his nose, made himself a bed

under a great branching pine-tree, wrapped himself in his warm rug, and

went to sleep. He might have slept for some hours when he was roused by

a sudden noise. It was a bright moonlight night, and close by stood two

headless dwarfs under the pine-tree exchanging angry words. Hans raised

himself to look at them better, when they both cried out at once, "It

is he! it is he!" One of them drew nearer to Hans' sleeping place and

said, "Old friend, we have met again by a lucky chance. My bones

still[Pg 219] ache from the steps in the church tower, and I dare say

you haven't forgotten the story. We'll deal with your bones now in such

a fashion that you won't forget our meeting for weeks. Hi! there,

comrades; come on and set to work!"

Upon this a crowd of the headless dwarfs rushed together from all sides

like a swarm of gnats. They were all armed with thick cudgels, bigger

than themselves. The number of these little enemies threatened danger,

for they struck as hard as any strong man could have done. Hans thought

his last hour was come, for he could not make any defence against such

a host of enemies. But by good luck another dwarf made his appearance,

just as the blows were falling fastest. "Stop, stop, comrades!" he

exclaimed. "This man has been my benefactor, and I owe him a debt of

gratitude. He gave me my life when I was in his power. Although he

pitched some of you downstairs, he didn't cripple any of you. The warm

bath cured your broken limbs long ago, and you had better forgive him

and go home."

The headless dwarfs were easily persuaded by their comrade, and went

quietly away. Hans now recognised his deliverer as the apparition who

had sat in the church-bell at night. The dwarf sat down[Pg 220] with

Hans under the pine-tree, and said, "You laughed at me once when I said

that a time might come in which I might be useful to you. That time has

now arrived, and let it teach you not to despise even the smallest

creature in the world." "I thank you with all my heart," returned Hans.

"My bones are almost pulverised with their blows, and I should hardly

have escaped with life if you had not arrived in the very nick of

time."

The headless dwarf continued, "My debt is now paid, but I will do more,

and give you something to indemnify you for your thrashing. You need no

longer toil in the service of a stingy parson. When you reach home

to-morrow go straight to the north corner of the church, where you will

find a great stone fixed in the wall, which is not secured with mortar

like the others. It is full moon on the night of the day after

to-morrow. Go at midnight, and take this stone out of the wall with a

lever. Under the stone you will find an inestimable treasure, which

many generations have heaped together; there are gold and silver church

plate, and a large amount of money, which was once concealed in time of

war. Those who hid the treasure have all died more than a hundred years

ago, and not a living[Pg 221] soul knows anything about the matter. You

must divide one-third of the money among the poor of the parish, and

all the rest is yours, to do what you like with." At this moment a cock

crew in a distant village, and the headless dwarf vanished as if he had

been wiped out.

Hans could not sleep for a long time for the pain in his limbs, and

thought much of the hidden treasure, but he dropped asleep at last

towards morning.

The sun was high in the heavens when his master returned from town.

"Hans," said the parson, "you were a great fool not to go with me

yesterday. Look here! I've had plenty to eat and drink, and got money

in my pocket into the bargain." Meantime he jingled the money to vex

him more. But Hans answered quietly, "Worthy Mister Parson, you have

had to keep awake all night for that bit of money, but I've earned a

hundred times as much in my sleep." "Show me what you earned," cried

the parson. But Hans answered, "Fools jingle their copecks, but wise

men hide their roubles."

When they reached home, Hans did his duty zealously, unharnessed and

fed the horses, and then walked round the church till he found the

stone in the wall that was not mortared.[Pg 222]

On the first night after the full moon, when everybody else was asleep,

Hans crept quietly out of the house with a pickaxe, wrenched out the

stone with much difficulty, and actually found the hole with the money,

just as the dwarf had described it to him. Next Sunday he divided the

third part among the poor of the parish, and gave notice to the parson

that he was about to quit his service, and as he asked no wages for so

short a time, he got his discharge without any demur. But Hans

travelled a long way off, bought himself a nice farm-house, married a

young wife, and lived quietly and comfortably for many years.

At the time when my grandfather was a shepherd-boy, there were many old

people living in our village who had known Hans, and who bore witness

to the truth of this story.

THE TREASURE AT KERTELL.

(Jannsen.)

During a great war, the people of Kertell, in the island of Dagö,

caused a great iron chest to be made,[Pg 223] wherein they stored all

their gold and silver, and sunk it in the river near the old bridge.

But they all perished without recovering it. Many years afterwards, a

man who was passing by in the evening saw a small flame flickering in

the air. He laid his pipe on a stone and followed the flame; but it

disappeared, and on going to pick up his pipe, he found it gone, and

money lying on the stone. But afterwards, whenever he passed the stone,

he found money. His companions advised him to consult a magician with

respect to raising the treasure, of which the tradition had persisted;

and the magician directed him to go to the place where he had seen the

flame on three successive Thursdays, and sacrifice a cock, but not to

speak of it to any one.[63] On the third Thursday, he took some

companions with him; and when the cock was sacrificed, the

treasure-chest appeared above water, and they dragged it to shore with

great labour. But one of the party looked towards the bridge, and saw a

little boy mounted on a pig riding over it. He exclaimed to his

companions, when the figures disappeared, the stakes and ropes gave

way, and the treasure fell[Pg 224] back into the river, and was

irrecoverably lost to them.

THE GOLDEN SNAKES.

(Jannsen.)

Two woodcutters found a number of snakes in the wood, and one of the

men killed some, and he and his comrade followed them up till they came

to a vast mass of snakes, among which was one with a golden crown. They

fled, but were pursued by the snake-king, when one of them turned round

and hit him on the head with an axe, when he changed into a heap of

gold. They then returned to the cluster of snakes, but they had all

disappeared, and they found only another heap of gold. They divided the

money, and with half of it they built a church.

The previous story is Lithuanian rather than Esthonian in character.

The next has a more diabolical character than any of the preceding.

[Pg 225]

THE DEVIL'S TREASURE.

(Jannsen.)

A travelling Swedish shoemaker saw a fire burning one night on the Sand

Mountain, and on reaching the spot, found an iron chest, which he

opened, and finding it to contain a pot of gold, helped himself to a

good supply. He then left his situation, and wandered about till he

came to Ringen, where he was appointed shoemaker to the castle. One

evening he was alone in his room when he heard a horn blown twice, but

each time he went out and found nothing. He then took his prayerbook in

his hand, ate his supper, and went to bed, but was awakened by a

tremendous noise in the castle. On opening his eyes, he saw that his

room was lit up with tapers, and two women, one in a red and the other

in a green dress, stood by his bed, who invited him to dance. Half

asleep, he cried out, "To hell with you! Is this a time to dance?" They

reminded him of the money which he had taken, left the room, and banged

the door after them,[Pg 226] so that the whole castle shook. The lights

went out, and the shoemaker turned over and went to sleep again. Next

morning he found himself lying terribly bruised, with his head and body

in the hall, and his legs in the room. On his breast were the impress

of two hands, showing prints of all the fingers. Shortly afterwards he

died, having confessed to the priest, and left all his money for a

church-bell. The chest was found empty, the demons having carried off

their treasure again; but the shoemaker was buried under the pulpit in

the church at Ringen.

We may end this section with the story of a man who failed to raise a

treasure through fear.

THE NOCTURNAL CHURCH-GOERS.

(Kreutzwald.)

One Christmas Eve the people at a farm-house a couple of versts from a

church went to bed early, intending to go to early morning service by

candle-light. The farmer woke up, and on going out to see[Pg 227] how

the weather was, he saw the church lit up, and thinking he had

overslept himself, called his people and they set out. They found the

church lit up and full of people, but the singing sounded rather

strange. When they reached the open door, the lights and people

disappeared, and a stranger came out, who told them to return, saying,

"This is our service; yours begins to-morrow." But he took one youth of

the party aside, and told him to come again at midnight three days

before St. John's Eve and he would make his fortune, but he warned him

to keep it secret.

As the party returned to the farm-house, the sky cleared, and they saw

from the position of the stars that it was midnight. When the matter

came to the pastor's ears, he tried to persuade the people that it was

only a dream; but the matter could not be hushed up.

The youth who had received an invitation from the stranger felt very

doubtful about keeping the appointment, especially as he had been

commanded to keep it secret; but a fortnight before the time, he was

going home one evening after sunset, when he saw an old woman sitting

by the roadside, who asked him what he was thinking about so deeply.[Pg

228] He made no answer, and then she asked to see his hand to tell his

fortune, assuring him that she meant him well. She put on her

spectacles, and after examining his hand for some time, promised him

great good fortune, and told him to go with the stranger without fear.

But if he wished to take a wife, let him not do so without great

consideration, or he might fall into misfortune. She refused any

payment, and hurried away as lightly as a young girl.

Three days before St. John's Eve, the youth set out a little before

midnight. A voice cried in his ear, "You are not going right!" and he

was about to turn back when he heard voices singing in the air, which

urged him not to throw away his good fortune, and encouraged him to

proceed. He found the church-door closed, but the stranger came from

behind the left side of the church. He told the youth he feared he

might not have come; and that the church service was held at Christmas

only once in seven years, at a time when men are all asleep. The

stranger then told the youth that there was a grave mound in a certain

meadow on which grew three junipers, and under the middle one a great

treasure was buried. In order to propitiate the[Pg 229] guardians of

the treasure, it was needful to slaughter three black animals, one

feathered and two hairy, and to take care that not a drop of the

sacrificial blood was lost, but all offered to the guardians. A bit of

silver was to be scraped from the youth's buckle that the gleam of the

costly silver might lead him to that which was buried. "Then cut a

stick from the juniper three spans long, turn the point three times

toward the grass where you have offered the blood, and walk nine times

round the juniper bush from west to east. But at every round strike the

grass under the bush three times with the stick, and at every blow say

'Igrek!'[64] At the eighth round you will perceive a subterranean

jingling of money, and after the ninth round you will see the gleam of

silver. Then fall on your knees, bend your face to the ground, and cry

out nine times 'Igrek,' when the treasure will rise." The seeker must

wait patiently till the treasure has risen, and not allow himself to be

frightened by the spectres which would appear, for they were only

soulless phantoms,[65] to try the seeker's courage. If it failed, he

would return home with empty hands.[Pg 230] The seeker must go to the

hill on St. John's Eve, when the bonfires were burning and the people

merrymaking. A third of the treasure was to be given to the poor; the

rest belonged to the finder.

The stranger repeated his directions three times word for word that the

youth should not forget them, when the sexton's cock crew and the

stranger vanished suddenly.

Next day the youth obtained a black cock and a black dog from some

neighbours, and next night he caught a mole. On St. John's Eve he took

the three animals, and carried out his instructions at midnight,

slaughtering first the cock, then the mole, and lastly the dog, taking

care that every drop of blood should fall on the appointed spot. But

when he had called "Igrek!" at the conclusion of the ceremony, a

fiery-red cock rose suddenly under the juniper, flapped his wings,

crowed and flew away. A shovelful of silver was then cast up at the

youth's feet. Next a fiery-red cat with long golden claws rose from

under the juniper, mewed, and darted away, when the earth opened and

threw up another shovelful of silver. Next appeared a great fiery-red

dog, with a golden head and tail, who barked, and ran away, when a

shovelful of roubles was cast[Pg 231] up at the youth's feet. This was

followed by a red fox with a golden tail, a red wolf with two golden

heads, and a red bear with three golden heads; and behind each animal

money was thrown out in the grass, but behind the bear there came about

a ton of silver, and the entire heap rose to the height of a haycock.

When the bear had disappeared, there was a rushing and roaring under

the juniper as if fifty smiths were blowing the bellows at once. Then

appeared from the juniper a huge head, half man, half beast, with

golden horns nine feet long, and with golden tusks two ells long. Still

more dreadful were the flames which shot from mouth and nostrils, and

which caused the rushing and roaring. The youth was now beside himself

with terror, and rushed away, fancying himself closely pursued by the

spectre, and at last he fell down in his own farmyard and fainted. In

the morning the sunbeams roused him; and when he came to himself, he

took six sacks with him from the barn to carry off the treasure. He

found the hill with the three junipers, the slaughtered animals, and

the wand; but the earth showed no signs of having been disturbed, and

the treasure had vanished. Probably it still rests beneath the hill,

waiting for a bolder man to raise it.[Pg 232]

The grandson of the unlucky treasure-seeker, who relates this story,

could not say if his grandfather had been equally unfortunate in his

marriage, as he never alluded to the subject.

[Pg 233]

SECTION X

_ORIENTAL TALES_

Under this heading I propose to notice two stories only. The first of

these is called the "Maidens who Bathed in the Moonlight" (Kreutzwald),

and is peculiarly tame and inconsequential, but yet exhibits one or two

features of special interest which forbid its being passed over

altogether.

A young man who had already learned the language of birds and other

mysteries, and was still desirous to peer into all sorts of secret

knowledge, applied to a famous necromancer[66] to initiate him into the

secrets hidden under the veil of night. The Finnish sorcerer

endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose; but as he persisted, he

told him that on the evening of St. Mark's Day, which was not far off,

the king of the serpents would hold his[Pg 234] court at a place which

he indicated, as was the custom every seven years. There would be a

dish of heavenly goat's-milk before the king, and if the young man

could dip a bit of bread in it, and put it in his mouth before taking

to flight, he would gain the secret knowledge which he desired.

At the appointed time, the young man went at dusk to a wide moor, where

he could see nothing but a number of hillocks. At midnight a bright

light shone from one of the hillocks; it was the king's signal, and all

the other snakes, which had been lying like motionless hillocks,

uncoiled themselves, and began to move in that direction[67]. At last

they gathered themselves into a great heap as large as a haycock. The

youth at first feared to approach, but at last crept up on tiptoe, when

he saw thousands of snakes clustered round a huge serpent with a gold

crown on his head. The youth's blood froze in his veins and his hair

stood on end, but he sprang over the heap of hissing serpents, who

opened their jaws as he passed, but[Pg 235] could not disengage

themselves quickly enough to strike him. He secured his prize and fled,

pursued by the hissing serpents, till he fell senseless; but at the

first rays of the sun he woke up, having left the moor four or five

miles behind him, and all danger was now over. He slept through the

day, to recover himself from the fatigue and fright, and went into the

woods in the following night, where he saw golden bathing benches

arranged, with silver bath whisks[68] and silver basins. Presently the

loveliest naked maidens assembled from all quarters, and began to wash

themselves in the bright moonlight, while the youth stood behind a bush

looking on. They were the wood-nymphs, and the daughters of the

Meadow-Queen.[69] Towards morning they disappeared suddenly from his

sight, and though he visited the woods again night after night, he

never again saw either the bathing utensils or the maidens, and pined

away in hopeless longing.

The next story is extremely interesting, and it contains a more

elaborate description of the Seal[Pg 236] of Solomon (which we should

hardly expect to be known in the legends of a country like Esthonia)

than any other which I have seen, except that given by Weil in his

_Biblische Legenden der Muselmänner_. Weil, however, represents it as a

cluster of stones, possessing different virtues, and not as a single

stone. The symbol called the Seal of Solomon by the Freemasons, &c.,

consists of two equilateral triangles intersecting each other within a

circle, and is regarded by mystics of every class as one of the most

sacred of all symbols. In Eastern legends the mystical name of God is

said to have been inscribed on the Seal. Arabian writers say that the

embalmed body of Solomon, with the ring on his finger, sits enthroned

on one of the islands of the Circumambient Ocean. Cf. the story

"Bulookiya" (_Thousand and One Nights_), and Kirby's poem of

_Ed-Dimiryaht_.

[Pg 237]

THE NORTHERN FROG[70].

(Kreutzwald).

Once upon a time, as old people relate, there existed a horrible

monster which came from the north. It exterminated men and animals from

large districts, and if nobody had been able to arrest its progress, it

might gradually have swept all living things from the earth.

It had a body like an ox and legs like a frog; that is to say, two

short ones in front, and two long ones behind. Its tail was ten fathoms

long. It moved like a frog, but cleared two miles at every bound.

Fortunately it used to remain on the spot where it had once alighted

for several years, and did not advance farther till it had eaten the

whole neighbourhood bare. Its body was entirely encased in scales

harder than stone or bronze, so that nothing could injure it. Its two

large eyes[Pg 238] shone like the brightest tapers both by day and

night, and whoever had the misfortune to meet their glare became as one

bewitched, and was forced to throw himself into the jaws of the

monster. So it happened that men and animals offered themselves to be

devoured, without any necessity for it to move from its place. The

neighbouring kings offered magnificent rewards to any one who could

destroy the monster by magic or otherwise, and many people had tried

their fortune, but their efforts were all futile. On one occasion, a

large wood in which the monster was skulking was set on fire. The wood

was destroyed, but the noxious animal was not harmed in the slightest

degree. However, it was reported among old people that nobody could

overcome the monster except with the help of King Solomon's Seal, on

which a secret inscription was engraved, from which it could be

discovered how the monster might be destroyed. But nobody could tell

where the seal was now concealed, nor where to find a sorcerer who

could read the inscription.

At length a young man whose head and heart were in the right place

determined to set out in search of the seal-ring, trusting in his good

fortune.[Pg 239] He started in the direction of the East, where it is

supposed that the wisdom of the ancients is to be sought for. After

some years he met with a celebrated magician of the East, and asked him

for advice. The sorcerer answered, "Men have but little wisdom, and

here it can avail you nothing, but God's birds will be your best guides

under heaven, if you will learn their language. I can help you with it

if you will stay with me for a few days."

The young man thankfully accepted this friendly offer, and replied, "I

am unable at present to make you any return for your kindness, but if I

should succeed in my enterprise, I will richly reward you for your

trouble." Then the sorcerer prepared a powerful charm, by boiling nine

kinds of magic herbs which he had gathered secretly by moonlight.[71]

He made the young man drink a spoonful every day, and it had the effect

of making the language of birds intelligible to him. When he departed,

the sorcerer said, "If you should have the good luck to find and get

possession of Solomon's Seal, come back to me, that I may read you the

inscription on the ring, for there is no one else now living who can do

so."[Pg 240]

On the very next day the young man found the world quite transformed.

He no longer went anywhere alone, but found company everywhere, for he

now understood the language of birds, and thus many secrets were

revealed to him which human wisdom would have been unable to discover.

Nevertheless, some time passed before he could learn anything about the

ring. At length one evening, when he was exhausted with heat and

fatigue, he lay down under a tree in a wood to eat his supper, when he

heard two strange birds with bright coloured plumage talking about him

in the branches. One of them said, "I know the silly wanderer under the

tree, who has already wandered about so much without finding a trace of

what he wants. He is searching for the lost ring of King Solomon." The

other bird replied, "I think he must seek the help of the

Hell-Maiden,[72] who would certainly be able to help him to find it.

Even if she herself does not possess the ring, she must know well

enough who owns it now." The first bird returned, "It may be as you

say, but where can he find the Hell-Maiden, who has no fixed abode, and

is here to-day and there to-morrow? He might as well try to fetter[Pg

241] the wind." "I can't say exactly where she is at present," said the

other bird, "but in three days' time she will come to the spring to

wash her face, as is her custom every month on the night of the full

moon, so that the bloom of youth never disappears from her cheeks, and

her face never wrinkles with age." The first bird responded, "Well, the

spring is not far off; shall we amuse ourselves by watching her

proceedings?" "Willingly," said the other.

The young man resolved at once to follow the birds and visit the

spring; but two difficulties troubled him. In the first place, he

feared he might be asleep when the birds set out; and secondly, he had

no wings, with which he could follow close behind them. He was too

weary to lie awake all night, for he could not keep his eyes open, but

his anxiety prevented him from sleeping quietly, and he often woke up

for fear of missing the departure of the birds. Consequently he was

very glad when he looked up in the tree at sunrise, and saw the

bright-coloured birds sitting motionless with their heads under their

wings. He swallowed his breakfast, and then waited for the birds to

wake up. But they did not seem disposed to go anywhere[Pg 242] that

morning; but fluttered about as if to amuse themselves, in search of

food, and flew from one tree-top to another till evening, when they

returned to roost at their old quarters. On the second day it was just

the same. However, on the third morning one bird said to the other, "We

must go to the spring to-day, to see the Hell-Maiden washing her face."

They waited till noon, and then flew away direct towards the south. The

young man's heart beat with fear lest he should lose sight of his

guides. But the birds did not fly farther than he could see, and

perched on the summit of a tree. The young man ran after them till he

was all in a sweat and quite out of breath. After resting three times,

the birds reached a small open glade, and perched on a high tree at its

edge. When the young man arrived, he perceived a spring in the midst of

the opening, and sat down under the tree on which the birds were

perched. Then he pricked up his ears, and listened to the talk of the

feathered creatures.

"The sun has not set," said one bird, "and we must wait till the moon

rises and the maiden comes to the well. We will see whether she notices

the young man under the tree." The other bird replied, "Nothing escapes

her eyes which concerns a[Pg 243] young man. Will this one be clever

enough to escape falling into her net?" "We will see what passes

between them," returned the first bird.

Evening came, and the full moon had already risen high above the wood,

when the young man heard a slight rustling, and in a few moments a

maiden emerged from the trees, and sped across the grass to the spring

so lightly that her feet hardly seemed to touch the ground. The young

man perceived in an instant that she was the most beautiful woman he

had ever seen in his life, and he could not take his eyes from her.

She went straight to the well, without taking any heed of him, raised

her eyes to the moon, and then fell on her knees and washed her face

nine times in the spring. Every time she looked up at the moon, and

cried out, "Fair and round-cheeked, as now thou art, may my beauty

likewise endure imperishably." Then she walked nine times round the

spring, and each time she sang—

"Let the maiden's face not wrinkle,

Nor her red cheeks lose their beauty;

Though the moon should wane and dwindle,

May my beauty grow for ever,

And my joy bloom on for ever!"

[Pg 244]Then she dried her face with her long hair, and was about to

depart, when her eyes suddenly fell upon the young man who was sitting

under the tree, and she turned towards him immediately. The young man

rose up to await her approach. The fair maiden drew nearer, and said to

him, "You have exposed yourself to severe punishment for spying on the

private affairs of a maiden in the moonlight, but as you are a

stranger, and came here by accident, I will forgive you. But you must

inform me truly who you are, and how you came here, where no mortal has

ever before set foot."

The youth answered with much politeness, "Forgive me, fair lady, for

having offended you without my knowledge or intention. When I arrived

here, after long wanderings, I found this nice place under the tree,

and prepared to camp here for the night. Your arrival interrupted me,

and I remained sitting here, thinking that I should not disturb you if

I looked on quietly."

The maiden answered in the most friendly manner, "Come to our house

to-night. It is better to rest on cushions than on the cold moss."

The young man hesitated for a moment, uncertain whether he ought to

accept her friendly invitation or[Pg 245] to decline it. One of the

birds in the tree remarked to the other, "He would be a fool if he did

not accept her offer." Perhaps the maiden did not know the language of

birds, for she added, "Fear nothing, my friend. I have not invited you

with any ill intention, but wish you well with all my heart." The birds

responded, "Go where you are asked, but beware of giving any blood,

lest you should sell your soul."

Then the youth went with her. Not far from the spring they arrived at a

beautiful garden, in which stood a magnificent mansion, which shone in

the moonlight as if the roof and walls were made of gold and silver.

When the youth entered, he passed through very splendid apartments,

each grander than the last; hundreds of tapers were burning in gold

chandeliers, and everywhere diffused a light like that of day. At

length they reached a room where an elegant supper was laid out, and

two chairs stood at the table, one of silver and the other of gold. The

maiden sat down on the golden chair, and invited the youth to take the

other. White-robed damsels served up and removed the dishes, but they

spoke no word, and trod as softly as if on cats' feet. After supper the

youth remained[Pg 246] alone with the royal maiden, and they kept up a

lively conversation, till a woman in red garments appeared to remind

them that it was bedtime.

Then the maiden showed the young man to another room, where stood a

silken bed with cushions of down, after which she retired. He thought

he must have gone to heaven with his living body, for he never expected

to find such luxuries on earth. But he could never afterwards tell

whether it was the delusion of dreams or whether he actually heard

voices round his bed crying out words which chilled his heart—"Give no

blood!"

Next morning the maiden asked him whether he would not like to stay

here, where the whole week was one long holiday. And as the youth did

not answer immediately, she added, "I am young and fair, as you see

yourself, and I am under no one's authority, and can do what I like.

Until now, it never entered my head to marry, but from the moment when

I saw you, other thoughts came suddenly into my mind, for you please

me. If we should both be of one mind, let us wed without delay. I

possess endless wealth and goods, as you may easily convince yourself

at every step, and thus I can live in royal state day by day. What[Pg

247]ever your heart desires, that can I provide for you."

The cajoleries of the fair maid might well have turned the youth's

head, but by good fortune he remembered that the birds had called her

the Hell-Maiden, and had warned him to give her no blood, and that he

had received the same warning at night, though whether sleeping or

waking he knew not. He therefore replied, "Dear lady, do not be angry

with me if I tell you candidly that marriage should not be rushed upon

at racehorse speed, but requires longer consideration. Pray therefore

allow me a few days for reflection, until we are better acquainted."

"Why not?" answered the fair maid. "I am quite content that you should

think on the matter for a few weeks, and set your mind at rest."

Lest the youth might feel dull, the maiden led him from one part of the

magnificent house to another, and showed him all the rich storehouses

and treasure-chambers, thinking that it might soften his heart. All

these treasures were the result of magic, for the maiden could have

built such a palace with all its contents on any day and at any place

with the aid of Solomon's Seal. But everything was unsubstantial, for

it was woven of wind,[Pg 248] and dissolved again into the wind,

without leaving a trace behind. But the youth was not aware of this,

and looked upon all the glamour as reality.

One day the maiden led him into a secret chamber, where a gold casket

stood on a silver table. This she showed him, and then said, "Here is

the most precious of all my possessions, the like of which is not to be

found in the whole world. It is a costly golden ring. If you will marry

me, I will give it you for a keepsake, and it will make you the

happiest of all mankind. But in order that the bond of our love should

last for ever, you must give me three drops of blood from the little

finger of your left hand in exchange for the ring."

The youth turned cold when he heard her ask for blood, for he

remembered that his soul was at stake. But he was crafty enough not to

let her notice his emotion, and not to refuse her, but asked carelessly

what were the properties of the ring.

The maiden answered, "No one living has been able to fathom the whole

power of this ring, and no one can completely explain the secret signs

engraved upon it. But, even with the imperfect knowledge of its

properties which I possess, I can perform many wonders which no other

creature can accom[Pg 249]plish. If I put the ring on the little finger

of my left hand, I can rise in the air like a bird and fly

whithersoever I will. If I place the ring on the ring-finger of my left

hand, I become invisible to all eyes, while I myself can see everything

that passes around me. If I put the ring on the middle finger of my

left hand, I become invulnerable to all weapons, and neither water nor

fire can hurt me. If I place it on the index finger of my left hand, I

can create all things which I desire with its aid; I can build houses

in a moment, or produce other objects. As long as I wear it on the

thumb of my left hand, my hand remains strong enough to break down

rocks and walls. Moreover, the ring bears other secret inscriptions

which, as I said before, no one has yet been able to explain; but it

may readily be supposed that they contain many important secrets. In

ancient times, the ring belonged to King Solomon, the wisest of kings,

and in whose reign lived the wisest of men. At the present day it is

unknown whether the ring was formed by divine power or by human hands;

but it is supposed that an angel presented the ring to the wise king."

When the youth heard the fair one speak in this way, he determined

immediately to endeavour to[Pg 250] possess himself of the ring by

craft, and therefore pretended that he could not believe what he had

heard. He hoped by this means to induce the maiden to take the ring out

of the casket to show him, when he might have an opportunity of

possessing himself of the talisman. But he did not venture to ask her

plainly to show him the ring. He flattered and cajoled her, but the

only thought in his mind was to get possession of the ring. Presently

the maiden took the key of the casket from her bosom as if to unlock

it; but she changed her mind, and replaced it, saying, "There's plenty

of time for that afterwards."

A few days later, their conversation reverted to the magic ring, and

the youth said, "In my opinion, the things which you tell me of the

power of your ring are quite incredible."

Then the maiden opened the casket and took out the ring, which shone

through her fingers like the brightest sun-ray. Then she placed it in

jest on the middle finger of her left hand, and told the youth to take

a knife and stab her with it wherever he liked, for it would not hurt

her. The youth protested against the proposed experiment; but, as she

insisted, he was obliged to humour her. At first he[Pg 251] began in

play, and then in earnest to try to strike the maiden with the knife;

but it seemed as if there was an invisible wall of iron between them.

The blade would not pierce it, and the maiden stood before him unhurt

and smiling. Then she moved the ring to her ring-finger, and in an

instant she vanished from the eyes of the youth, and he could not

imagine what had become of her. Presently she stood before him smiling,

in the same place as before, holding the ring between her fingers.

"Let me try," said he, "whether I can also do these strange things with

the ring."

The maiden suspected no deceit, and gave it to him.

The youth pretended he did not quite know what to do with it and asked,

"On which finger must I place the ring to become invulnerable to sharp

weapons?" "On the ring-finger of the left hand," said the maiden,

smiling. She then took the knife herself and tried to strike him, but

could not do him any harm. Then the youth took the knife from her and

tried to wound himself, but he found that this too was impossible. Then

he asked the maiden how he could cleave stones and rocks with the ring.

She took him to the enclosure where stood a block of granite a fathom

high. "Now[Pg 252] place the ring," said the maiden, "on the thumb of

your left hand, and then strike the stone with your fist, and you will

see the strength of your hand." The youth did so, and to his amazement

he saw the stone shiver into a thousand pieces under the blow. Then he

thought, "He who does not seize good fortune by the horns is a fool,

for when it has once flown, it never returns." While he was still

jesting about the destruction of the stone, he played with the ring,

and slipped it suddenly on the ring-finger of his left hand. Then cried

the maiden, "You will remain invisible to me until you take off the

ring again." But this was far from the young man's thoughts. He hurried

forwards a few paces, and then moved the ring to the little finger of

his left hand, and soared into the air like a bird. When the maiden saw

him flying away, she thought at first that this experiment too was only

in jest, and cried out, "Come back, my friend. You see now that I have

told you the truth." But he who did not return was the youth, and when

the maiden realised his treachery, she broke out into bitter

lamentations over her misfortune.

The youth did not cease his flight till he arrived, some days later, at

the house of the famous sorcerer[Pg 253] who had taught him the

language of birds. The sorcerer was greatly delighted to find that his

pupil's journey had turned out so successfully. He set to work at once

to read the secret inscriptions on the ring, but he spent seven weeks

before he could accomplish it. He then gave the young man the following

instructions how to destroy the Northern Frog:—"You must have a great

iron horse cast, with small wheels under each foot, so that it can be

moved backwards and forwards. You must mount this, and arm yourself

with an iron spear two fathoms long, which you will only be able to

wield when you wear the magic ring on the thumb of your left hand. The

spear must be as thick as a great birch-tree in the middle, and both

ends must be sharpened to a point. You must fasten two strong chains,

ten fathoms long, to the middle of the spear, strong enough to hold the

frog. As soon as the frog has bitten hard on the spear, and it has

pierced his jaws, you must spring like the wind from the iron horse to

avoid falling into the monster's throat, and must fix the ends of the

chains into the ground with iron posts so firmly that no force can drag

them out again. In three or four days' time the strength of the frog

will be so far exhausted that[Pg 254] you can venture to approach it.

Then place Solomon's ring on the thumb of your left hand, and beat the

frog to death. But till you reach it, you must keep the ring constantly

on the ring-finger of your left hand, that the monster cannot see you,

or it would strike you dead with its long tail. But when you have

accomplished all this, take great care not to lose the ring, nor to

allow anybody to deprive you of it by a trick."

Our friend thanked the sorcerer for his advice, and promised to reward

him for his trouble afterwards. But the sorcerer answered, "I have

learned so much magic wisdom by deciphering the secret inscriptions on

the ring, that I need no other profit for myself." Then they parted,

and the young man hastened home, which was no longer difficult to him,

as he could fly like a bird wherever he wished.

He reached home in a few weeks, and heard from the people that the

horrible Northern Frog was already in the neighbourhood, and might be

expected to cross the frontier any day. The king caused it to be

proclaimed everywhere that if any one could destroy the frog, he would

not only give him part of his kingdom, but his daughter in marriage

likewise. A few days later, the young man came before the[Pg 255] king,

and declared that he hoped to destroy the monster, if the king would

provide him with what was necessary; and the king joyfully consented.

All the most skilful craftsmen of the neighbourhood were called

together to construct first the iron horse, next the great spear, and

lastly the iron chains, the links of which were two inches thick. But

when all was ready, it was found that the iron horse was so heavy that

a hundred men could not move it from its place. The youth was therefore

obliged to move the horse away alone, with the help of his ring.

The frog was now hardly four miles away, so that a couple of bounds

might carry it across the frontier. The young man now reflected how he

could best deal with the monster alone, for, as he was obliged to push

the heavy iron horse from below, he could not mount it, as the sorcerer

had directed him. But he unexpectedly received advice from the beak of

a raven, "Mount upon the iron horse, and set the spear against the

ground, and you can then push yourself along as you would push a boat

from the shore." The young man did so, and found that he was able to

proceed in this way. The monster at once opened its jaws afar off,

ready to receive the[Pg 256] expected prey. A few fathoms more, and the

man and the iron horse were in the monster's jaws. The young man shook

with horror, and his heart froze to ice, but he kept his wits about

him, and thrust with all his might, so that the iron spear which he

held upright in his hand, pierced the jaws of the monster. Then he

leaped from the iron horse, and sprang away like lightning as the

monster clashed his jaws together. A hideous roar, which was heard for

many miles, announced that the Northern Frog had bitten the spear fast.

When the youth turned round, he saw one point of the spear projecting a

foot above the upper jaw, and concluded that the other was firmly fixed

in the lower one; but the frog had crushed the iron horse between his

teeth. The young man now hastened to fasten the chains in the ground,

for which strong iron posts several fathoms long had been prepared.

The death-struggles of the monster lasted for three days and three

nights, and when it reared itself, it struck the ground so violently

with its tail, that the earth was shaken for fifty miles round. At

length, when it was too weak to move its tail any longer, the young man

lifted a stone with the help of his ring, which twenty men could not

have[Pg 257] moved, and beat the monster about the head with it until

no further sign of life was visible.

Immeasurable was the rejoicing when the news arrived that the terrible

monster was actually dead. The victor was brought to the capital with

all possible respect, as if he had been a powerful king. The old king

did not need to force his daughter to the marriage, for she herself

desired to marry the strong man who had alone successfully accomplished

what others had not been able to effect with the aid of a whole army.

After some days, a magnificent wedding was prepared. The festivities

lasted a whole month, and all the kings of the neighbouring countries

assembled to thank the man who had rid the world of its worst enemy.

But amid the marriage festival and the general rejoicings it was

forgotten that the monster's carcass had been left unburied, and as it

was now decaying, it occasioned such a stench that no one could

approach it. This gave rise to diseases of which many people died. Then

the king's son-in-law determined to seek help from the sorcerer of the

East. This did not seem difficult to him with the aid of his ring, with

which he could fly in the air like a bird.[Pg 258]

But the proverb says that injustice never prospers, and that as we sow

we reap. The king's son-in-law was doomed to realise the truth of this

adage with his stolen ring. The Hell-Maiden left no stone unturned,

night or day, to discover the whereabouts of her lost ring. When she

learned through her magic arts that the king's son-in-law had set out

in the form of a bird to visit the sorcerer, she changed herself into

an eagle, and circled about in the air till the bird for which she was

waiting came in sight. She recognised him at once by the ring, which he

carried on a riband round his neck. Then the eagle swooped upon the

bird, and at the moment that she seized him in her claws she tore the

ring from his neck with her beak, before he could do anything to

prevent her. Then the eagle descended to the earth with her prey, and

they both stood together in their former human shapes. "Now you have

fallen into my hands, you rascal," cried the Hell-Maiden. "I accepted

you as my lover, and you practised deceit and theft against me: is that

my reward? You robbed me of my most precious jewel by fraud, and you

hoped to pass a happy life as the king's son-in-law; but now we have

turned over a new[Pg 259] leaf. You are in my power, and you shall

atone to me for all your villainy." "Forgive me, forgive me," said the

king's son-in-law. "I know well that I have treated you very badly, but

I heartily repent of my fault." But the maiden answered, "Your

pleadings and your repentance come too late, and nothing can help you

more. I dare not overlook your offence, for that would bring me

disgrace, and make me a byword among the people. Twice have you sinned

against me: for, firstly, you have despised my love; and, secondly, you

have stolen my ring; and now you must suffer your punishment." As she

spoke, she placed the ring on the thumb of her left hand, took the man

on her arm like a doll, and carried him away. This time she did not

take him to a magnificent palace, but to a cavern in the rocks where

chains were hanging on the walls. The maiden grasped the ends of the

chains and fettered the man hand and foot, so that it was impossible

for him to escape, and she said in anger, "Here shall you remain a

prisoner till your end. I will send you so much food every day, that

you shall not die of hunger, but you need never expect to escape." Then

she left him.

The king and his daughter endured a time of[Pg 260] terrible anxiety as

weeks and weeks passed by, and the traveller neither returned nor sent

any tidings. The king's daughter often dreamed that her consort was in

great distress, and therefore she begged her father to assemble the

sorcerers from all parts, in hopes that they might perhaps be able to

give some information respecting what had happened to him, and how he

could be rescued. All the sorcerers could say was that he was still

alive, but in great distress, and they could neither discover where he

was, nor how he could be found. At length a famous sorcerer from

Finland was brought to the king, who was able to inform him that his

son-in-law was kept in captivity in the East, not by a human being, but

by a more powerful creature. Then the king sent messengers to the East

to seek for his lost son-in-law. Fortunately they met with the old

sorcerer who had read the inscriptions on Solomon's Seal, and had thus

learned wisdom which was hidden from all others. The sorcerer soon

discovered what he wished to know, and said, "The man is kept prisoner

by magic art in such and such a place, but you cannot release him

without my help, so I must go with you myself."

They set out accordingly, and in a few days, led[Pg 261] by the birds,

they reached the cavern in the rock where the king's son-in-law had

already languished for seven years in captivity. He recognised the

sorcerer immediately, but the latter did not know him, he was so much

worn and wasted. The sorcerer loosed his chains by his magic art, took

him home, and nursed and tended him till he had recovered sufficient

strength to set out on his journey. He reached his destination on the

very day that the old king died, and was chosen king. Then came days of

joy after long days of suffering; and he lived happily till his end,

but he never recovered the magic ring, nor has it ever since been seen

by human eyes.

The succeeding prose sections are short, and chiefly contain stories

from Jannsen's collections, of many of which I have given only a brief

outline.

[Pg 262]

SECTION XI

_CHURCH-STORIES_

Several of these, given by Jannsen, may be briefly narrated.

THE CHURCH AT REVEL.

Revel was formerly an unimportant place, and the inhabitants wished to

make it famous by building a church. They contracted with the great

architect Olaf[73] to erect it; and when it was completed, and he was

about to fix the cross on the summit, his wife cried out joyfully,

"Olaf will come home to-day with a thousand barrels of gold."[74] But

scarcely had[Pg 263] Olaf fixed the cross in its place, when he slipped

and fell to the ground, and a toad and a snake sprang out of his mouth.

The Devil wished to destroy the church, but could not get near it; so

he made a sling at Pernau, and hurled a great rock at it. But the sling

broke, and the rock fell half-way between Pernau and Revel, where it

now remains. (Similar tales are related of the Devil in many countries,

but are perhaps commonest in Scandinavia.)

THE CHURCH AT PÜHALEPP.

Before Christian times there was a great alder forest in the island of

Dagö, where the people used to make sacrifices and hold festivals.

Afterwards the forest was hewn down, all but one tree, under which the

people wished to build a church. But the missionaries would not

consent, till a man advised them to yoke two oxen to the cart in which

the building materials should be loaded, and then let them wander at

will. Where they halted, the church should be built.

So the oxen were driven to the alder forest, where there was plenty of

grass, and after being[Pg 264] allowed to graze awhile they were

brought back and yoked to the cart. They returned to the heath and

began to feed, and the church was erected on that spot and named the

Church of Pühalepp.

The Devil thought to destroy it by hurling two great rocks at it at

night from a hill, after having carefully noted its position in the

daytime. He missed his aim in the darkness, but mounted his mare and

rode to see what damage was done. Just as he reached the church the

cock crew, and he was forced to turn round and ride back to hell. But

the marks of the mare's hoofs are still to be seen where he heard the

cock crow.

Another story relates how the Devil pulled down a church which was in

course of erection, and tore up the very foundations. But a wise man

told the people to take two white calves, dropped on that night,

harness them to a cart, and build the church where they stopped, which

was accordingly done.

[Pg 265]

THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY CROSS.

A blind nobleman of Vastemois, near Fellin, was driving out one day,

when his coachman saw a splendid golden cross. His master ordered him

to drive up to it; and on touching it, he recovered his sight. In

gratitude, he built a church on the spot, which was afterwards

destroyed in war-time, and only the walls left standing. The people

were too poor to rebuild it, but from the ruins grew a tree which all

regarded as holy. The then over-lord commanded them to fell it, and as

they refused, he did so himself, but was immediately struck blind.

THE CHURCH AT FELLIN.

In former days, the church of Fellin did not stand where it stands at

present, but close to the lake. It was prophesied that it should stand

till seven brothers should be present in it together. When this

happened by chance, the church began to sink. The congregation escaped,

except the seven brothers,[Pg 266] who remained in it, but it sunk till

even the summit of the spire had disappeared. The site is now a marshy

meadow, but if any one is there near midnight on New Year's Eve, he

hears entrancing voices, and cannot move from the spot till the church

clock beneath the ground has struck the last stroke of twelve.

[Pg 267]

SECTION XII

_UNNATURAL BROTHERS_

The story of the wicked rich brother who oppresses the poor one is not

unknown in Esthonia. There is a hideous story of such a pair, relating

how when the poor brother died his widow begged grave-clothing from the

wife of the rich one. When the rich brother returned, he scolded his

wife, and rushed off, cursing and swearing, to strip the body of his

dead brother, even in his coffin, crying, "That's mine! that's mine!"

But when he would have laid the naked corpse back in the coffin, it

clung round his neck, and he was compelled to carry it about with him

for the rest of his life.

THE RICH BROTHER AND THE POOR ONE.

Once upon a time there were two brothers, one of whom had abundance,

but the other was very poor.[Pg 268] As is the way of the world, riches

do not heed poverty, and thus it was with the two brothers. The rich

one would not give the poor one even a spoonful of soup.

One day the rich brother gave a great feast. The poor brother expected

to have been invited, but his hopes were vain.

All at once a bright idea struck him, and he went to the river and

caught three large pike. "I'll carry these to my brother," said he,

"and perhaps they will bring me a blessing."

He took the fish to his brother, and addressed him humbly, like a rich

lord. But it made no difference. His brother only said, "Many thanks,"

turned his back, and went off.

What could the poor brother do? He also turned round, and went his way,

sorrowfully reflecting, "He is my brother in name indeed, but he's

worse than an entire stranger!"

All at once he saw an old man sitting by the road, who rose up quickly

and went towards him, saying, "Friend, why do you look so sorrowfully

on the world?"

"Sorrowful or not," said the poor brother, "it goes well enough with

me! I brought my rich[Pg 269] brother three fish for a present, and he

didn't even give me a drink in return!"

"But you perhaps got something else?" asked the old man.

"Oh, yes, 'many thanks,'" said he; "that's your something else!"

The old man answered, "Give me your 'many thanks,' and you shall become

a rich man."

"Take it, and welcome," said the poor brother.

Then the old man instructed him as follows:—"Go home, look for Poverty

under the stove, and throw it into the river, and you shall see how it

will fare with you."

Then he went his way, and the poor brother returned home. He found

Poverty under the stove, seized it, and flung it into the river.

After this, everything which he undertook succeeded with the poor

brother, and it was a real marvel to see how he got on. His fields grew

fine harvests, and his barns and stables were soon more imposing than

his rich brother's.

When the rich brother saw it, he grew envious, and wanted to know how

the other had got wealthy. He was always teasing him to know how it

was, and at last the other got tired of it, and said,[Pg 270] "How did

I get rich? I dragged Poverty out from under the stove, and threw it in

the water. That's how it was!"

"That's how it was," cried the rich brother. "Wait a bit! your sort

shan't outdo me!"

So he went to the river and fished for Poverty, from whom he supposed

that his poor brother had received everything. He fished and fished,

and would do nothing else, till at length he held Poverty fast.

While he inspected and examined it at home, it slipped through his

fingers and hid under his stove, and nobody could get it out again.

After this everything went worse and worse with the rich brother, till

he became at last quite poor, and remained so.

This story, which I have not abridged, is a well-known Sclavonic

legend. It is probably connected with the story of the three apes which

forms the introduction to that of "Khaleefeh the Fisherman," in the

_Thousand and One Nights_.

[Pg 271]

SECTION XIII

_PLAGUE-LEGENDS_

The plague continued to rage in Eastern Europe long after it had

disappeared from the West, and down to a very recent period.

Consequently we find plague-legends, which have almost died out in the

British Islands, except in Scotland, rife among all the Eastern

nations. The Plague-demon is usually represented as female, but in the

Esthonian legends it is masculine.

The Plague once seated himself in a boat which was returning to the

Island of Rogö,[75] which had hitherto escaped his ravages, in the

shape of a tall black man with a great scythe in his hand. He arrived

among the dead crew, and at once sprang on shore and began to destroy

the inhabitants. Some saw the Plague himself, and others not. If any

one saw him, his heart froze with terror[Pg 272] before he could speak

a word.[76] One night during a violent storm, an old woman saw him

enter her cottage as she was sitting alone spinning; but she gathered

courage to cry out, "Welcome, in God's name." He stopped short,

muttering, "That's enough," returned to the boat in which he had come,

and went out to sea. The storm ceased as he departed, and since then he

has never reappeared.

In the Island of Nuckö he appeared as an old grey man, with a taper in

one hand and a staff in the other, a book under his arm, and a

three-cornered hat on his head. As he went from house to house, he

looked up the names of his victims in his book, let his taper shine on

their faces to make sure that he had made no mistake, and touched the

doomed with his staff. A peasant once saw him enter his cottage, and

touch all with his staff, except himself and the infant in the cradle.

All the others died before cockcrow.[77][Pg 273]

Another time the Plague was driving down a steep path which led to a

village, when he upset his vehicle and broke the axle. A passing

peasant helped him to bind it up, and directed him to the smithy; but

he declared that he was the Plague, and for the good deed that had been

done him all the village should be spared. So he turned his horse,

drove back up the hill, and vanished like a cloud. When the news was

brought to the village, bonfires of rejoicing were lighted, and kept up

for many days.

[Pg 274]

SECTION XIV

_BEAST-STORIES_

I commence with wolf-stories, which are rather numerous in Esthonia.

One of them relates the creation of the wolf. When God had created the

world, he asked the Devil what he thought of his work; and the Devil

objected that there was no animal to scare away mischievous boys from

the woods when the bear and the snake were sunk in their winter sleep.

Thereupon God gave leave to the Devil to make such an animal as he

wished, and to give it life by the formula, "Stand up and devour the

Devil." Then the Devil made the wolf's back of a strong hedge-pole, the

head of a tree-stump, the breast of twigs and leather, and the loins of

bricks.[78] He made the tail of a fern-frond, and the feet of

alder-stumps, but he put a stone into its breast for the heart. He

clothed the body with[Pg 275] moss, burning coals formed the eyes, and

iron nails were used for the teeth and claws. He then named the

creature Wolf, and pronounced the spell as far as "devour," when the

creature raised his head and snorted. The Devil was too much frightened

to finish, but afterwards plucked up courage, and repeated the spell,

substituting God's name for his own. But the wolf took no notice, and

when the Devil appealed to God, he was only told to use the same spell;

so he stood a long way off and pronounced it. Then the wolf rushed at

the Devil, who was forced to hide under a stone to save himself. Since

then the wolf has been the Devil's worst enemy, and pursues him

everywhere.

Another story relates how God forbade the wolf to eat the flocks and

the dogs, but to receive his share when the farmers baked. But one day

a farmer's wife threw the wolf a red-hot stone instead of bread, and he

burnt his muzzle, which has been black ever since. Since then he

devours whatever falls in his way.

A farmer, hemmed in by a herd of wolves, succeeded in driving them

away, but was followed home by one of them. When he took his provisions

out of the sledge, he laid his hand on a square object like a[Pg 276]

whetstone. He then remembered hearing that the wolves sometimes receive

food from heaven, and thought this might be their portion. So he flung

it to the wolf, saying, "Take it if it's yours;" and the wolf seized it

and disappeared.

There is an odd story of a young woman who was carrying an apron full

of eggs to her mother. She was overtaken by a violent thunderstorm, and

sheltered under a fir-tree. She felt something moving among the eggs,

and was frightened; but presently she was still more terrified when she

found a great wolf tugging at her apron. She dropped it in her fright,

and a black cat jumped out and darted away, pursued by the wolf. When

she reached the village, her mother told her that the black cat was the

Devil, who had taken that form in order to play her a trick or do her

some injury, but had been scared away by the wolf.

Have we here an inverted and distorted echo of "Little Red Riding

Hood?"

A peasant who was broiling fish in the forest at nightfall met with a

still more alarming adventure. A black man appeared to him, and

commanded him to fetch him a spit, for he wanted to broil fish too. But

the spit which he wanted was a long sharp[Pg 277] stake, and the

peasant himself was to be the fish. In his terror the peasant called

"St. George's Dogs" to his aid, and a pack of wolves rushed out, and

chased the Devil away, while the peasant drew out the axle from his

cart-wheel, and supplied its place with a pole of rowan-wood.

Another story relates how an unfortunate wolf missed getting his usual

rations from God, and set out to forage for himself. After sparing some

whom he met, and allowing others to escape, he fell into the hands of a

young peasant, who gave him a sound beating and then took refuge in a

tree. The wolf's relatives, seeking revenge, climbed on each other's

back till they nearly reached the peasant, who upset them by a

stratagem, and they fell, many breaking their limbs. Since then a wolf

always runs away when he sees a man.

Were-wolves are sometimes alluded to in Esthonian tales.

The following stories are of a more miscellaneous character, and some

of them are sufficiently interesting to be given with little or no

abridgment.

[Pg 278]

THE MAN WITH THE BAST SHOES.

Once upon a time a traveller came to a village and asked for a night's

lodging. He was handsomely dressed, but he had coarse bast shoes on his

feet. A friendly farmer received the stranger hospitably, and offered

him accommodation. At night the man asked his host, "Farmer, where

shall I put my bast shoes?" The farmer showed him the place, but he

added, "No, my shoes must spend the night among the feathered people,

for that is what they are used to. So I would rather hang them on the

perch in the hen-house." The farmer laughed at the joke, and permitted

him to do so.

As soon as all were in their first sleep, the owner of the bast shoes

rose from his bed, slipped into the hen-house, tore the shoes to

pieces, and scattered the coarse plaits among the fowls. Next morning

he went to the master of the house and complained, "Farmer, my property

was badly damaged last night." Said the farmer, "Well, let whoever has

done the mischief make it good." This was just[Pg 279] what the

stranger wanted, and he immediately caught the dappled cock, and put

him into his knapsack, "for," said he, "he's the culprit; last night he

pecked at my shoes till he spoiled them." Then he proceeded on his

journey with the cock.

On the evening of the same day he arrived at a neighbouring village,

and asked again for accommodation. At night he put the cock in the

farmer's sheep-pen, and excused himself by saying, "My cock has not

been used to anything else since he was a chicken." But at night he

strangled the bird, and then complained, "The sheep have killed my

cock." He indemnified himself by taking a fat ram from the flock, for

he held by the farmer's adage, "He who has done the mischief must pay

for it."

By a similar stratagem he exchanged the ram at the third village for an

ox, and at last the ox for a horse. He soon contrived to get a sledge

too, and drove merrily over hill and dale, till the stones flew behind

him, while he contrived new schemes and stratagems. On the way, he

encountered Master Reynard, who persuaded him by entreaties and

cajoleries to take him into his sledge. After a while, the wolf and

bear joined them, and likewise found a place in the sledge; but this

made the load[Pg 280] too heavy, and when they came to a curve in the

road, the side-poles of the sledge gave way. Then the man sent his

companions to fetch wood to make a new pole. But none of the three

brought a proper one back. The fox and wolf brought thin sticks in

their mouths, and the bear brought a whole pine-tree, roots and all.

Then the man went himself, and soon found the wood which he wanted.

Meantime, the wild beasts availed themselves of the opportunity, and

sprang upon the horse and devoured it. But they stuffed the skin nicely

with straw, and set it carefully up, so that it stood again on its four

legs as if it was alive.

When the man came back with the pole, he mended the sledge and

harnessed the horse again. "Oho! now we'll drive on." But alas! the

horse would not move. Then the man looked at the red scamp, the grey

rascal, and the brown villain, and said angrily, "Give me my horse

back." But the wild beasts answered, "You killed it yourself, while we

were running about looking for wood by your orders."

Thus they stood quarrelling and disputing, till Reynard considered how

he could best put an end to the dispute and save his own skin. He

knew[Pg 281] of a pit in the neighbourhood which the hunter had dug for

a wolf-trap, and covered loosely with thin twigs. "The matter won't be

settled by quarrelsome and angry words," cried he; "but come, let the

four of us go to the wolf-pit; we will all tread on it at once, and

whoever falls in shall be adjudged guilty." The rest agreed, and when

they stood on the twigs, they broke under their weight, and

precipitated them into the pit, and even Reynard was unable to escape.

He had trusted too much to the lightness of his tread, and had trodden

on the twigs without consideration. Now they were all in the trap

together, and none of them could hope to escape. The time seemed long

to them, and their hunger soon became too great to bear.

First of all, the wild beasts attacked the man of the bast shoes and

devoured him, and then Reynard had to resign his life. Last of all the

bear throttled the wolf. Then came the hunter and gave the bear his

quietus. Thus all the four rascals experienced the truth of the

proverb, "As the deed, so the reward."

[Pg 282]

WHY THE DOG AND CAT AND THE CAT AND MOUSE ARE ENEMIES.

In former days all animals dwelt together in peace; but then it befell

that the dogs killed and devoured hares and other game in the open

fields. The other animals complained, and when God called the dogs to

account, they objected that they had nothing to eat. Their plea was

admitted, and leave was granted them to eat fallen animals. The dogs

requested and received a written license to that effect, which was

intrusted to the sheep-dog, as the largest and most reliable among

them. But in autumn the sheep-dog was very busy, and could neither

carry it about with him nor find a dry place for it, so he intrusted it

to the care of his friend the tom-cat, who had always a safe room, or

sat on the stove. The cat arched his back, and rubbed it against his

friend's foot, as a promise of fidelity, and the document was laid on

the stove, where it was supposed to be safe.

One day the dogs found a pony in the wood which had fallen, so they

fell upon it, and killed and devoured it. The animals complained

again,[Pg 283] and the dogs were pronounced guilty; but they appealed

to the license, in which it was not stated whether the fallen animals

should be dead or alive. When the sheep-dog and the cat sought for the

document, they could not find it, for the mice had nibbled it away.

The cats were so angry with the mice that they began to kill and eat

them, and have done so ever since; but the dogs likewise became enemies

of the cats, as they are at present.

The sheep-dog did not venture to return to his fellows without the

license. They waited for him in vain, and at last followed him, and

sought for him everywhere, but could not find him. So whenever a dog

sees another he runs to ask him whether he has not got the missing

document with him.

THE ORIGIN OF THE SWALLOW.

The wife of a drunkard was sitting weaving with her child on her lap.

She wore a black cloth on her head, a red neckerchief, a white shift,

and a coal-black petticoat. When her husband came home, he pushed his

wife away, and destroyed the loom[Pg 284] with an axe. Then he killed

the child with a blow of his fist, and beat his wife till she fell

senseless. But Ukko took pity on her, and changed her into a swallow.

As she was trying to escape, the man struck at her with a knife, but

only cleft her tail. Since that time she flies about twittering her

misfortunes, and does not shun men like other birds, but builds her

nest against their houses.

THE SPIDER AND THE HORNET.

Once upon a time some boys burned a hornet's nest because the hornet

stung them so badly. Then the hornet went to God to complain that the

boys despised His gifts, and scattered broken victuals about in the

fields. But God objected that she had no witnesses. So she went to the

king of the spiders, and made him return with her to God, who asked if

he had seen the boys scatter food about the fields. But the spider said

that it was not their fault, for they had no table to put their bread

on. Then God praised the spider for speaking the truth, and condemned

the hornet for telling lies and hating her neighbours without a[Pg 285]

cause. He then struck her on the back with his staff, and cast her down

from heaven to earth, so that she broke in two with the fall. But he

let the spider down with a cord, because he had spoken the truth. Since

then the spider has had a net and a web, by which he can climb up and

down as he likes, as on a cord; but the hornet still retains the

pinched-in body which she got when falling from heaven, but is fat

enough at both ends.

THE OFFICIOUS FLIES.

A few dozen flies once attacked a cart-horse who was feeding quietly in

a thicket, and lamented that they were not more numerous, that they

might make him lie down. Presently his skin began to itch, when he lay

down, rolled first on once side and then on the other, and crushed them

all.

[Pg 287]

PART III

Esthonian Ballads, &c.

For reasons stated in the Preface, only a few specimens are here given.

THE HERALD OF WAR[79]

To the Finnish Bridge when driving

On the west wind's path of copper,

On the pathway of the rainbow,

With the king's note in my wallet,

And his mandate in my bosom,

And upon my tongue defiance,

What was that which came to meet me,

And what horror to confound me?

Nothing but an ancient corbie,

Aged crow, a wretched creature;

[Pg 288] With his beak he sniffed around him,

And his nostrils snuffed the vapour;

He had smelt the war already,

When his nostrils snuffed the vapour,

That he might discern the message

Which I carried in my pocket;

He had smelt the war already,

And the scent of blood allured him.

To the Finnish Bridge when driving

On the west wind's path of copper,

On the pathway of the rainbow,

Swift I hastened as an envoy,

With the king's note in my wallet,

And his mandate in my bosom,

In my charge the leader's orders,

And upon my tongue the secret

That the flags in breeze should flutter,

And the lance-points smite in battle,

And the swords should do their duty.

What was that which came to meet me,

And what horror to confound me?

'Twas an eagle came to meet me,

Eagle fierce with beak hooked sharply;

With his beak he sniffed around him,

Through the mist he pushed his nostrils,

By the scent he sought to fathom

What was in the envoy's message.

He had smelt the war already,

And the scent of blood had reached him,

And he went to call his comrades.

To the Finnish Bridge when driving

[Pg 289] On the west wind's path of copper,

On the pathway of the rainbow,

Swift I hastened on as envoy,

With the king's note in my wallet,

And his mandate in my bosom,

And upon my tongue the secret

And the leader's secret orders

That the flags should now be waving,

And the spear-points should be sharpened,

What was it I there encountered,

And what met me there to vex me?

'Twas the raven's son that met me,

'Twas a carrion-bird that met me;

With his beak he sniffed around him,

And his nostrils snuffed the vapour,

That the meaning of my message

With his nose he thus might fathom.

He had smelt the war already,

And the scent of blood had reached him,

And he went to call his comrades.

To the Finnish Bridge when driving

On the west wind's path of copper,

On the pathway of the rainbow,

While I hastened as an envoy,

With the king's note in my wallet,

And his mandate in my bosom,

And upon my tongue the secret,

And the leader's secret orders,

What was that which came to meet me,

And what horror to confound me?

'Twas a little wolf that met me,

[Pg 290] And a bear that followed closely;

With their snouts they sniffed around them,

Through the mist they pushed their nostrils,

Seeking thus to probe the secret,

And the letter to discover;

They had smelt the war already,

And the scent of blood had reached them,

And they ran to spread the tidings.

To the Finnish Bridge when driving

On the west wind's path of copper,

On the pathway of the rainbow,

While I hastened as an envoy,

With the king's note in my wallet,

And his mandate in my bosom,

And upon my tongue defiance,

With the leader's secret orders

That the flags unfurled should flutter,

And the spear-points do their duty,

And the axes should be lifted,

And the swords should flash in sunlight,

What was that which came to meet me,

And what horror to confound me?

It was Famine met me tottering,

Tottering Famine, chewing garbage;

With her nose she sniffed around her,

That the meaning of my message

With her nose she thus might fathom;

For she smelt the war already,

And the scent of blood had reached her,

And she went to call her comrades.

To the Finnish Bridge while driving

[Pg 291] On the west wind's path of copper,

On the pathway of the rainbow,

While I hastened as an envoy,

With the king's note in my wallet,

And his mandate in my bosom,

On my tongue the secret orders

That the flags unfurled should flutter,

And the spear-points do their duty,

And the axes and the fish-spears

All should do the work before them,

What was that which came to meet me,

What unlooked-for horror met me?

'Twas the Plague I there encountered,

Crafty Plague, the people's murderer,

Of the sevenfold war-plagues direst;

With his nose he sniffed around him,

And his nostrils snuffed the vapour,

Seeking thus to probe the matter,

And the letter to discover;

He had smelt the war already,

And the scent of blood had lured him

And he went to call his comrades.

After this my horse I halted,

Yoked him with a yoke of iron,

Fettered him with Kalev's fetters,

That he stood as rooted firmly,

From the spot to move unable,

While I pondered and considered,

Deeply in my heart reflecting

If the profit of my journey

Were not lost in greater evil

[Pg 292] For the war brings wounds and bloodshed,

And the war has throat of serpent.

Wherefore then should I the battle,

Whence springs only pain and murder,

Forth to peaceful homesteads carry?

Let a message so accursed

In the ocean-depths be sunken,

There to sleep in endless slumber,

Lost among the spawn of fishes,

There to rest in deepest caverns,

Rather than that I should take it,

Till it spreads among the hamlets.

Thereupon I took the mandate

Which I carried in my wallet,

And amid the depths I sunk it,

Underneath the waves of ocean,

Till the waves to foam had torn it,

And to mud had quite reduced it,

While the fishes fled before it.

Thus was hushed the sound of warfare,

Thus was lost the news of battle.

THE BLUE BIRD[80] (I.).

Siuru, bird and Taara's daughter,

Siuru, bird of azure plumage,

With the shining silken feathers,

[Pg 293] Was not reared by care of father,

Nor the nursing of her mother,

Nor affection of her sisters,

Nor protection of her brothers;

For the bird was wholly nestless,

Like a swallow needing shelter,

Where her down could grow to feathers

And her wing-plumes could develop;

Yet did Ukko wisely order,

And the aged Father's wisdom

Gave his daughter wind-like pinions,

Wings of wind and cloudy pinions,

That his child might float upon them,

Far into the distance soaring.

Siuru, bird and Taara's daughter,

Siuru, bird of azure plumage,

Sailed afar into the distance,

And she winged her way to southward,

Then she turned again to northward,

And above three worlds went sailing.

One of these the world of maidens,

One where dwell the curly-headed,

One the home of prattling children,

Where the little ones are tended.

Siuru bird outspread her pinions,

Wide her silken plumes expanding,

Soaring far aloft to heaven.

To the fortress of the sunlight,

To the lighter halls of moonlight,

To the little gate of copper.

Siuru bird outspread her pinions,

[Pg 294] Wide her silken plumes expanding,

Soaring far into the distance,

Till she reached her home at evening;

And her father asked his daughter,

"Whither have thy pinions borne thee?

Whither didst thou take thy journey?

Tell me what thine eyes have witnessed."

Siuru heard and comprehended,

And without alarm she answered,

"Where my pinions have conveyed me,

There I scattered feathers from me;

Where I sailed above the country,

There I scattered silken feathers;

Where I shook and flapped my pinions,

From my tail I dropped the feathers:

What I saw with marten keenness,

Might be told in seven narrations,

Or in eight tales be recounted.

Long I flew on path of thunder,

On the roadway of the rainbow,

And the hailstone's toilsome pathway;

Onwards thus I sailed light-hearted,

Heedless, far into the distance,

And at length three worlds discovered,

One the country of the maidens,

One where dwell the curly-headed,

One the world of prattling children,

Where the little ones are tended;

There it is they rear the fair ones,

Slender-grown and silky-headed."

"What thou heardest? speak and tell me;

[Pg 295] What thou sawest, let us hear it."

"What then heard I, sire beloved,

What beheld, O dearest father?

There I heard the sport of maidens,

There I heard their mirth and sadness,

Jesting from the curly-headed,

From the little infants wailing.

Wherefore, said the maidens, jesting,

Do the curly-headed children

Dwell in solitude and lonely,

Living thus apart from nurses?

And they asked in every quarter,

Are no youths in starry regions,

Youths of starry birth or other,

Who might dwell among the maidens,

And amuse the curly-headed?"

Ukko heard her words, and answered,

"Soar away, my dearest daughter,

Steer thy flight again to southward,

Sailing far away till evening,

Turning then unto the northward,

Come before the doors of Ukko,

To the western mother's threshold,

To the northern mother's region;

Seek thou there the youths to woo them,

Youths that may release the maidens."

[Pg 296]

THE BLUE BIRD (II.).

This totally different ballad is from Neus, _Ehstnische Volkslieder_,

p. 42. Neus quotes Ganander as saying that one of the names of the

Finnish Wood-goddess (the spouse of Tapio) is Blue Bird. The present

poem is _possibly_ a fragment of a creation-myth.

Lo, the bird with azure plumage,

Feathers blue and eyes all lustrous,

Took her flight, and hovered, soaring,

Over forests four in number,

Over four woods in succession;

One a wood of golden pine-trees,

One a wood of beauteous apples,

One a wood of silver birch-trees,

One a swampy wood of lime-trees.

Lo, the bird with azure plumage,

Feathers blue and eyes all lustrous,

Took her flight, and hovered, soaring,

Over lakelets three in number;

Three the lakes all close together,

And the first with wine was brimming,

And with ale the second foaming,

And the third with mead was frothing.

[Pg 297] Lo, the bird with azure plumage,

Feathers blue and eyes all lustrous,

Took her flight, and hovered, soaring,

Over three fields in succession,

Over three fields close together;

In the first the oats were growing,

In the second rye was waving,

In the third the wheat was springing.

And the wood of golden pine-trees

Was a wood of youthful striplings,

And the wood of beauteous apples

Was a wood of youthful maidens,

And the wood of silver birch-trees

Was a wood of youthful matrons,

And the swampy wood of lime-trees

Was a wood of men all aged.

And the lake with wine o'erbrimming

Was the lake of youthful striplings,

And the lake with ale up-foaming

Was the lake of youthful matrons,

And the lake where mead was frothing

Was the lake of youthful maidens.

And the field where oats were growing

Was the field of youthful striplings,

And the field where rye was waving

Was the field of youthful matrons,

And the field where wheat was springing

Was the share of youthful maidens.

[Pg 298]

CHARM AGAINST SNAKE-BITE.[81]

Thou beneath the bridge, the smooth wood

Under juniper the rough wood,

Thou the arrow in the willows,

O thou challenged gold-adorned one,

Earthy-coloured, liver-coloured,

Rainy-hued and hazel-coloured,

Firebrand hued and cherry-coloured,

Do not thou in secret bite me,

Nor attack me unsuspecting,

Do not bite me when I heed not.

[Pg 299]

BIBLIOGRAPHY

The present list contains only books and papers which have been used or

specially consulted in the preparation of this work, or which have been

published in England on Esthonian tales and poems. Other books quoted

are referred to in the Index and Glossary.

Blumberg, G. _Quellen und Realien des Kalewipoeg, nebst Varianten und

Ergänzungen_. Dorpat, 1869. An important work, including a map, from

which we have borrowed some particulars.

Boecler, J.M. _Der Ehsten abergläubische Gebräuche, Weisen, und

Gewohnheiten, von Johann Wolfgang Boecler, weiland Pastor zu Kusal in

Ehstland und des Consistorii in Reval Assessor. Mit auf die Gegenwart

bezüglichen Anmerkungen beleuchtet von Dr. F. R. Kreutzwald_. St.

Petersburg, 1854.

Bouquet _from the Baltic_. _All the Year Round_, IV. pp. 80-83 (Nov. 3,

1860). Relates to some of the legends of Vanemuine, the _Kalevipoeg_,

and Koit and Aemmerik.

Dido, A. _Littérature orale des Estoniens_. _Bibliographie des

principale Publications de l'Estonie, et en particulier celle du Dr.

Frédéric Reinhold Kreutzwald_, 1804-1882. _Revue des Traditions

Populaires_, VIII. pp. 353-365, 424-428, 485-495 (1893). Contains an

ac[Pg 300]count, more or less detailed, of the longer tales in

Kreutzwald's collection, a few being fully translated.

Dido, A. _Kalewipoeg, Épopée nationale Estonienne_. Op. cit. IX. pp.

137-155 (1894). Contains an analysis of the poem.

Donner, A. _Kalevipoeg jumalaistarulliselta ja historialliselta

kannalta katsottuna_. _Suomi_, ser. 2, vol. 5 (1866). Discusses the

mythological and historical character of the _Kalevipoeg_, and its

relations to the _Kalevala_, especially as regards the episode of

Kullervo.

Esthonia. _Encyclopædia Britannica_ (ed. IX.), vol. viii. pp. 561-563

(1878).

Gould, S.B. _The Kalevipoeg_. _Fraser's Magazine_, vol. 78, pp. 534-544

(Oct. 1868). A fragmentary account of the poem, containing some curious

errors, such as "Sarwik" being translated "Hell;" but with useful

comments, especially on the Kalevide's voyage to the North Pole. We

cannot see, however, that the Esthonian writings exhibit the melancholy

character of a depressed nation, as Mr. Baring-Gould imagines.

Grosse, Julius. _Die Abenteuer des Kalewiden: Esthnisches

Volksmärchen_. Leipzig, 1875. An abstract of the story in hexameters.

Israel, C. Chr. _Kalewipoeg, oder die Abenteuer des Kalewiden, Eine

estnische Sage frei nach dem Estnischen bearbeitet_. Frankfort-on-Main,

1873. A good prose abstract of the poem, somewhat rearranged.

Jannsen, Harry. _Märchen und Sagen des estnischen Volkes_. Two Parts.

Dorpat, 1881, and Riga, 1888. A selection of tales from various

sources, some few being from Kreutzwald's collection. Valuable notes

are appended to Part ii.

----. _Esthnische Märchen_. _Veckenstedt's Zeitschrift für Volkskunde_,

i. pp. 314-317 (1889). Contains three[Pg 301] stories: "The Devil's

Visit," "The Talking Trees" (Christian variant), and "The Officious

Flies." Jannsen states that the first has already been printed in the

original, and that the other two are from his own collections.

Kalewipoeg, _Üks ennemuistene Eesti jut_. Kuopio, 1862. An earlier

edition was published at Dorpat with the German translation; but this

is the one which I have consulted in the preparation of this work.

Kalewipoeg, _eine estnische Sage, zusammengestellt von F.R. Kreutzwald,

verdeutscht von C. Reinthal und Dr. Bertram_. Dorpat, 1857-61.

Kirby, W.F. _On the Progress of Folk-lore Collections in Esthonia, with

special reference to the work of Pastor Jacob Hurt_. _Papers and

Transactions of International Folk-lore Congress_, 1892, pp. 427-429.

Based on information published by, or received from, Prof. Kaarle Krohn

of Helsingfors.

Kreutzwald, F.R. _Eestirahwa ennemuisted jutud. Rahwa suust korjanud ja

üleskirjutanud_. Helsingfors, 1866. One of the first and best

collections of Esthonian tales, but without notes. I believe that

several later editions have been published at Dorpat.

---- _Ehstnische Märchen, aufgezeichnet von Friedrich Kreutzwald_. _Aus

dem Ehstnischen übersetzt von F. Löwe, ehem. Bibliothekar a. d.

Petersb. Akad. d. Wissenschaften_. _Nebst einem Vorwort von Anton

Schiefner, und Anmerkungen von Reinhold Köhler und Anton Schiefner_.

Halle, 1869. Includes a very close translation of most of the longer

tales in Kreutzwald's collection. The notes, too, are valuable.

Kreutzwald, Fr., und Neus, H. _Mythische und Magische Lieder der

Ehsten_. St. Petersburg, 1854. In Esthonian and German.[Pg 302]

Krohn, Kaarle. _Die geographische Verbreitung Estnischer Lieder_.

Kuopio, 1892. This paper is noted in "Folk-Lore," IV. p. 19 (March,

1893).

Latham, R. _Nationalities of Europe_. 2 vols. London, 1863. Vol. i.

includes translations of fourteen of the principal poems from Neus'

_Ehstnische Volkslieder_.

Löwe, F. _See_ Kreutzwald.

Neus, H. _Ehstnische Volkslieder. Urschrift und Uebersetzung_. Reval,

1850-52. A collection of 119 poems in Esthonian and German, with notes.

Oxenford, John. _The Esthonian Hercules_. _Macmillan's Magazine_, vol.

30, pp. 263-272 (July 1874). An outline of the story of the

_Kalevipoeg_, based on Israel's little book.

Popular Poetry _of the Esthonians_. Varieties of Literature from

Foreign Literary Journals and Original MSS., now first published.

London, 1795, pp. 22-44 (reprinted in "Folk-Lore Journal," iii. pp.

156-169, 1885). Contains twelve specimens of lyric poetry, undoubtedly

based on some German publication. The anonymous compiler makes the

strange mistake of regarding the Esthonians as "Sclavonians."

Schiefner, A. _Ueber die ehstnische Sage vom Kalewipoeg_. _Bulletin de

l'Académie Imperiale des Sciences de St. Petersburg_, ii. pp. 273-297

(1860). Contains an analysis of the first thirteen cantos of the

_Kalevipoeg_, with reference to Finnish, Scandinavian, and Classical

parallels.

Schott. _Ueber finnische und estnische Heldensagen, Monatsbericht d.

k.k. Akademie der Wissenschaft zu Berlin_, 1866, pp. 249-260.

I am indebted to Mr. Sydney Hartland for kindly calling my attention to

one or two papers which I might otherwise have overlooked.

[Pg 305]

INDEX AND GLOSSARY

Abercromby, Hon. J., specimens of Finnish charms, ii. 298 note.

Adam and Eve, i. 252 note.

Aennchen, Cinderella sometimes called in German, ii. 4.

Äike, one of the names of the Thunder-God, i. xxviii., 24.

Ämarik (Evening-Glow), ii. 30, 299.

Ahti, in Esthonian, the God of the Waters; in Finnish, one of the names

of the hero Lemminkainen, i. xxviii., 221; ii. 95 note.

Ahto, Finnish name of the God of the Waters, i. xxviii.

Aino, a heroine of the "Kalevala," who was drowned in a lake, i. 34

note; ii. 147 note.

Air-Maiden, the daughter of the Thunder-God, i. xxviii., 4, 71.

Alder-beetle, divination by, i. 19.

Alev, ancestor of a race of heroes, probably a brother of Kalev, i.

xxii., 2 note.

Alevide or Alevipoeg, a hero of the race of Alev, the chief friend and

companion of his cousin, the Kalevipoeg, i. xxii., 4, 5, 6.

Alevide and water-demon, i. 64.

Alevide, death of the, i. 138.

Ali Shar and Zumurrud, a story of the "Thousand and One Nights," i. 187

note.

Alutaga, a district north of Lake Peipus, i. 237.

Angantyr, a famous Berserk in the Hervarar Saga, i. 60 note.

Anna, widows named, ii. 145.

Apes and Khaleefeh the fisherman, in the "Thousand and One Nights," ii.

270.

Apples, golden, ii. 14.

Argument of "Kalevipoeg," i. 2.

Ariel's song, i. 21 note.

[Pg 306]Arju or Harju (German, Harrien), a province of Esthonia, i.

xiv., 14 note.

Arjuna, one of the heroes of the Indian Epic, the Maha-Bharata, ii. 23

note.

Ark, ass entering, ii. 76 note.

Armageddon, i. 135.

Armi, name of dog, i. 25 note.

Arthur, King, i. xxxii.

Aschenputtel, German name for Cinderella, ii. 4.

Ash-Katie (Tuhka-Triinu, Cinderella), ii. 4.

Ass and Devil, ii. 76 note.

Bagpipe, i. 304 note; ii. 150.

Ballads and other short poems, i. xxiii.; ii. 287.

Baltic, Bouquet from the, ii. 299.

Baltic Provinces of Russia, i. xiii.

Banyan-tree, i. 39 note.

Barbarossa, i. xxxii.

Baring-Gould. _See_ Gould.

Barnkeeper, courageous, ii. 195.

Bast shoes, magic, ii. 25.

Bast shoes, man with the, ii. 278.

Bathhouse visited by devils, ii. 186

Bathroom employed for accouchements, i. 21.

Bath-whisks, i. 98; ii. 235

Battles of the Kalevide, i. 119, 136, 137.

Bear, i. 52, 97; ii. 279, 290.

Beast-stories, ii. 274.

Beauty and the Beast, ii. 43 note.

Beer in Hades, i. xxxi., 173, 198.

Beetle as coachman, ii. 5.

Beetle and brooch, divination by, i. 19.

Beggar, God disguised as, ii. 182.

Bell, magic, i. 197.

Bell of Sarvik, i. 121, 126.

Beowulf, hero of an Anglo-Saxon poem of the same name, ii. 147 note.

[Pg 307]Berserk, a Viking mad with battle-frenzy (the nearest modern

parallel is the Malay custom of running amok), i. 39 note, 60 note.

Berserk, Angantyr the, i. 60 note.

Berserk, Kalevipoeg a, i. 39 note.

Bertram, Dr., part translator of the "Kalevipoeg," i. xix.; ii. 301.

Bewitched horse, ii. 193.

Bhima, one of the heroes of the Indian Epic, the Maha-Bharata. i. 25

note; ii. 23 note.

Bibliography, ii. 299.

Birch-bark maid, ii. 180.

Birch-tree, crooked, ii. 189.

Birch-twigs for bath-whisks, ii. 235.

Birds, language of, i. 215, 223; ii. 239.

Bitch, Devil's mother in form of, i. xxxi., 68.

Black Gods, ii. 136.

Black magic, stories of, ii. 148, 167, 188.

Black pool, ii. 146.

Blood, souls sold by, ii. 150, 175, 181, 245.

Blood, spells to stay flow of, i. 136.

Blood used in magical practices, i. 248; ii. 229.

Blood-vessel of Wisdom, ii. 186.

Bluebeard, ii. 1.