In the strange island of Iceland, thrown up, by fire, from the depths
of the sea, there once lived a lad who worshipped the god Odin, and
was taught from two absurd books called the Eddas. He wished to fight
and die on a battle-field, so that his soul might cross a
rainbow-bridge, and dwell in the beautiful halls of Valhalla.
There--so the Eddas say--are the chosen heroes, who are forever
fighting all day, and feasting all night.
Thus, instead of a Bible, young Thule studied wild fairy-tales; yet,
for all his heathenish training, he had some noble traits, which a
Christian lad might imitate.
He lived with his widowed mother at the edge of a forest. The snow
piled itself in drifts, and the wind howled through the trees, and
crept in at the windows; for the cottage was old, and a blind
hurricane might almost have mistaken it for a heap of brushwood. But
Thule was quite as happy as if the hut had been a palace. He loved the
winter-beauty of his mother's face, and the silvery hair half hidden
under her black cap. All the fire they burned was made of the dry
sticks he gathered in the forest, and more than half the money they
used was earned by his small hands.
In one of the ice-months of the year, when the weather was sharper
than a serpent's tooth, Thule came home from a hard day's work; and,
the chillier he grew, the more he whistled to keep up a brave heart.
Looking at the horizon before him, he saw the cold glare which we call
Northern Lights, but which he knew to be the flickering of helmets and
shields and spears.
"The warlike maidens are out to-night," thought the boy: "they are
going to the battle-fields to decide who is worthy to be slain. How I
love to see the sky lighted up with the flash of their armor! Odin,
grant I may one day be a hero, and walk over the bridge of a rainbow!"
Then Thule went to his whistling again; but, just as he struck into
the forest where the deep shadows lay, he heard a faint moan, which
sounded like a human voice, or might have been a sudden gust of wind
in a hollow tree.
"Perchance it is some poor creature even colder than I," thought the
boy: "I hope not a _troll_!"
Hurrying to the spot whence the sound came, he found an ugly,
long-nosed dwarf lying on the ground, nearly perishing with cold. It
was growing late, and the boy himself was benumbed; but he went
briskly to work, chafing the hands and face of the stranger, even
taking off his own blue jacket to wrap it about the dwarf's neck.
"Poor old soul, you shall not die of cold!" said he; then, helping him
to rise, he added cheerily, "We will go to my mother's cottage, and
have a warm supper of oat-cakes and herrings; and our fire of dry
boughs will do you good."
The noble boy knew there was barely supper enough for two, but did not
mind going hungry to bed for charity's sake. In the ear of his heart,
he heard the words of his mother:--
"Never fear starving, my son, but freely share your last loaf with the
needy."
They walked through the forest, the old man leaning heavily on the
youth's shoulder.
"Why should you befriend a poor wretch who cannot repay you?" whined
the dwarf in a hollow voice which startled Thule, it was so like the
echo sent back by a mountain or a rock.
"I do not ask or wish to be repaid," was the reply. "Don't you know
what the proverb says? 'Do good, and throw it into the sea; if the
fishes don't know it, _Odin_ will!'"
"Yes: Odin shall know it, never fear," answered the dwarf; "but, as I
happen to be informed that your tea-table is not quite large enough
for three, I think I will decline your invitation to supper. Really,
my lad," he continued, "it would delight me to do you a little favor;
for, though I am only a poor dwarf, I know how to be grateful. By the
way, have you seen such a thing hereabouts as a green alder-tree?"
"A green alder-tree in winter-time!" cried Thule.
"A curious thing, indeed," said the dwarf; "but I chanced to see one
the other night in my rambles. Ah! look, here it is right before your
eyes."
All the other forest-trees were dry and hard, their hearts frozen
within them; but this tree was alive, hidden behind a clump of firs.
When Thule began to dig about its roots, it seemed to come out of the
ground of its own free will, and to lie over his shoulders as if it
would caress him.
"Take home the little tree, and plant it before your door, my lad."
The youth turned to thank the stranger; but he had vanished. Then
Thule ran home with all speed to tell his mother of the little old man
who had faded from his sight like a wreath of smoke.
"Now I wonder what it is you have seen," said the good woman, raising
her hands in surprise. "Was he brown, my son, with a long nose?"
"As brown as a nut, mother, with no end of nose."
"Just as I supposed, my child! That dwarf is a wonderful
creature,--one of the night-elves, a race gifted with great
understanding. Know, my son, that he carves runes upon stones; and he
no doubt assisted in making Thor's hammer, that terrible instrument
which can crush the skull of a giant."
"One thing I observed," said the boy: "he blinked at that flashing in
the sky, which people call Northern Lights; he had to shade his eyes
with his funny little hand."
"Did he, indeed? Poor Elf! Light is painful to his race; and I have
even heard that a stroke of sunshine is able to turn them into
stones. I am almost afraid of this little tree," added the good mother
musingly. "You know what we read in the holy Eddas: Both the alder and
the ash trees should be held sacred; for Odin formed man from the ash,
and woman from the alder. Nevertheless, the night-elf could not have
meant to do you a mischief. Let us plant the tree as he directed."
"What, in the frozen ground, under the snow?"
But it now, for the first time, appeared that there was a spot of
earth near the south window, which must have been waiting for the
tree, since it was as soft and warm as if the sun had been shining on
it all the year. Here they planted the alder; and Thule brought water,
and moistened the roots.
Next morning the tree seemed to have grown a foot higher; and by
daylight its leaves showed a silver lining.
"May Odin favor my pretty alder!" said Thule; "nor let the frost pinch
it, nor the winds blacken its green buds!"
Thule went into the woods again; and, as he was whistling at his work,
he happened to look down, and there, on the ground, at his feet, lay a
purse, well lined with gold. He counted the pieces: fifty, all bright
and new.
"I will go to the town," thought the boy, shaking his head and sighing
(for the gold was very tempting), "I will go to the town, and ask who
has lost a purse with fifty pieces of precious gold. Ah, me! I wish I
could keep it! then we should swim in herrings and oil; and who knows
but, for once in my life, I might even get a taste of venison?"
But next moment he loosened his greedy clutch at the purse. "No matter
how bravely it shines! it is not _my_ gold; and it is too heavy for
me to carry. Stolen money is worse than a mill-stone about one's neck,
so my mother says."
"Keep the purse, little boy," said a sweet voice close by his elbow.
He turned, and saw a beautiful child, as radiant as a sunbeam, and
clad in garments of delicate and transparent texture.
"I will be your friend, little boy. That purse was dropped by a lady
who wears a fur cloak and long veil. If she asks for her treasure, I
can say it fell into a hole in the ground. Everybody believes me:
never fear!"
"Poor misguided angel!" said the boy, amazed by her wondrous beauty no
less than by her apparent want of truth. "You are, indeed, a lovely
little tempter; but I have a dear mother at home, and I love her
better than a million pieces of gold. I must go to the town, and seek
out this lady you mention, who wears a fur cloak and long veil."
"Nay, if you will be so stupid," said the shining child, "why, I will
even go with you, and show you the way."
So, gliding gracefully before the bewildered youth, she led him out of
the forest, into the most crowded part of the city, up to the door of
a splendid mansion; but, when Thule turned his head only an instant,
she was gone, and no trace of her was to be seen: she seemed to have
melted into sunshine.
The lady of the house received the purse with thanks, and would gladly
have given Thule a piece of the gold; but, much as the boy longed for
it, he put it aside, saying, "No, madam: my mother assures me I must
be honest without the hope of reward. She would not like me to take
wages for not being a thief!"
The next morning the alder-tree had grown another foot; and Thule and
his mother watched the growing leaves, and touched them with reverent
fingers. They were certainly of a tender green, lined with shining
silver.
"May Odin favor my pretty alder!" said Thule; "nor let the frost pinch
it, nor the winds blacken its green buds!"
Then Thule kissed his mother, and trudged off to the forest as usual.
But he seemed doomed to adventures; for this time he was met by three
armed men, who were roaming the country as if seeking something.
"Prithee, little urchin," said one of the men, "can you tell us what
has become of a young alder-tree, whose green leaves are lined with
silver?"
"I dug up an alder-bush, kind sirs," replied the boy, trembling, and
remembering that his mother had said she was almost afraid of that
little tree.
"There are many alder-bushes," said another of the men gruffly; "but
only one is green at this time of year, and has silver-lined leaves.
It was placed here by command of the giant Loki, and no one was to
touch it under pain of death; for, when his mountain-garden should be
laid out in the spring, the tree was to be uprooted, and planted
therein."
Thule grew almost as stiff and white as if a frost-giant had suddenly
breathed on him. He knew that Loki was a pitiless god, feared by all,
and beloved by none,--a god who had an especial grudge against the
whole human race.
"I will hold my peace," thought Thule. "I will never confess that the
tree I carried away has silver-lined leaves. I will hasten home, pluck
up the bush, and burn it: then who will be the wiser?"
But Thule, in spite of his trembling, could not forget his good
mother's counsel:--
"Your words, my boy, let them be truth, and nothing but truth, though
a sword should be swinging over your head."
Then, as soon as his voice returned to him, he confessed that the tree
he had removed was really just such an one as the men described, and
begged for mercy, because, as he said, he had committed the sin
ignorantly, not knowing the mandate of the terrible giant.
But the men bade Thule lead them to his mother's house, and point out
his stolen treasure; declaring that they could show no mercy; for,
when Loki had made a decree, no man should alter it by one jot or one
tittle.
"Oh!" thought the unfortunate boy, wringing his hands, and trembling
till the woollen tassel on his cap danced a gallopade, "oh, if the
cruel night-elf, who led me into this mischief, would only come
forward now, and help me out of it! But, alas, it is of no avail to
invoke him; for it is now broad daylight, and the sun would strike him
into a stone image in a twinkling."
When Thule, followed by the messengers of Loki, had reached the door
of his cottage, he found his gray-haired mother sprinkling the roots
of the beautiful alder, and fondling its leaves with innocent
pleasure. At sight of the armed men, she started back in affright.
"It is indeed the giant's tree," said the men to Thule. "Pluck it up,
and follow us with it to Loki's castle on the mountain."
"To Loki's castle!" shrieked the wretched mother. "Then he must pass
a frightful wilderness, be assailed by the frost-giants; and, if there
be any breath left in him, Loki will dash it out at a glance! Have
mercy on a poor old mother, O good soldiers!"
The unhappy boy touched the tree, and it came out of the ground of its
own free will; and, in a trice, stood on its feet, shook out its
branches into arms, and in another moment was no longer a tree, but a
child, with a beauty as dazzling as sunshine.
"Unfortunate men!" said she, in a voice whose angriest tones were
sweeter than the music of an AEolian harp, "unfortunate are you in
being the servants of Loki! Go, tell your cruel master that the
schemes he has plotted against me and mine have all failed: my
enchantment is over forever. Yonder boy," said she, pointing to little
Thule, "has saved me. I was, and still remain, an elf of light, as
playful and harmless as sunshine. The merciless Loki, enraged at the
love I bear the children of men, changed me to a little alder-tree,
which is the emblem of girlhood. But he had no power to keep me in
that form forever. He was obliged to make a condition, and he made the
hardest one that his artful mind could invent: 'Since you love mortals
so dearly,' said he, 'no one but a mortal shall free you from your
imprisonment. You shall remain a tree till a good child shall touch
you,--a child who is generous enough to SHARE HIS LAST LOAF WITH A
STRANGER, honest enough to GIVE BACK A REWARD FOR HIS HONESTY, brave
enough to SPEAK THE TRUTH WHEN A LIE WOULD HAVE SAVED HIS LIFE. Long
shall you wait for such a deliverer!'
"Now how amazed will Loki be when he learns that this little boy has
been tempted in all these particulars, yet proves true. My poor
soldiers, you may return whence you came, for the alder-tree will
never rustle its silver leaves in the mountain-garden of Loki."
Then the men disappeared, not sorry that the good boy had escaped his
threatened doom.
Thule, looking at the beautiful elf so lately a tree, could hardly
trust his own eyes; and I fancy that many a boy, even at the present
day, would have felt rather bewildered under the circumstances.
"Shining child!" said he: "you look vastly like the wonderful little
being who led me out of the forest yesterday."
"That may well be," replied the elf of light; "for she is my sister.
The brown dwarf who pointed out to you the alder-tree is also an
excellent friend of mine, though, strange to say, I have never seen
him. We love to aid each other in all possible ways; yet we can never
meet, for there is a fatality in my eyes which would strike him dead.
He had heard of Thule, the little woodcutter who was called so brave
and generous and true. He tried you, you see; and so did my frolicsome
sister, who was fairly ablaze with delight when she found you could
not be tempted to steal!"
Thule's mother had stood all the while on the threshold, overawed and
dumb. Now she came forward, and said,--
"I am prouder to-day than I should be if my son had slain ten men on
the battle-field!"
The beautiful elf of light, penetrated with gratitude and admiration,
remained Thule's fast friend as long as he lived. She gave the lad
and his mother an excellent home, and made them happy all the days of
their lives.