ONCE on a time there was a poor husbandman who had so many children that
he hadn’t much of either food or clothing to give them. Pretty children
they all were, but the prettiest was the youngest daughter, who was so
lovely there was no end to her loveliness.
So one day, ’twas on a Thursday evening late at the fall of the year,
the weather was so wild and rough outside, and it was so cruelly dark,
and rain fell and wind blew, till the walls of the cottage shook again.
There they all sat round the fire busy with this thing and that. But
just then, all at once something gave three taps on the window-pane.
Then the father went out to see what was the matter; and, when he got
out of doors, what should he see but a great big White Bear.
“Good evening to you!” said the White Bear.
“The same to you,” said the man.
“Will you give me your youngest daughter? If you will, I’ll make you as
rich as you are now poor,” said the Bear.
Well, the man would not be at all sorry to be so rich; but still he
thought he must have a bit of a talk with his daughter first; so he went
in and told them how there was a great White Bear waiting outside, who
had given his word to make them so rich if he could only have the
youngest daughter.
The lassie said “No!” outright. Nothing could get her to say anything
else; so the man went out and settled it with the White Bear, that he
should come again the next Thursday evening and get an answer. Meantime
he talked his daughter over, and kept on telling her of all the riches
they would get, and how well off she would be herself; and so at last
she thought better of it, and washed and mended her rags, made herself
as smart as she could, and was ready to start. I can’t say her packing
gave her much trouble.
Next Thursday evening came the White Bear to fetch her, and she got upon
his back with her bundle, and off they went. So, when they had gone a
bit of the way, the White Bear said,—
“Are you afraid?”
“No! she wasn’t.”
“Well! mind and hold tight by my shaggy coat, and then there’s nothing
to fear,” said the Bear.
So she rode a long, long way, till they came to a great steep hill.
There, on the face of it, the White Bear gave a knock, and a door
opened, and they came into a castle, where there were many rooms all lit
up; rooms gleaming with silver and gold; and there too was a table ready
laid, and it was all as grand as grand could be. Then the White Bear
gave her a silver bell; and when she wanted anything, she was only to
ring it, and she would get it at once.
Well, after she had eaten and drunk, and evening wore on, she got sleepy
after her journey, and thought she would like to go to bed, so she rang
the bell; and she had scarce taken hold of it before she came into a
chamber, where there was a bed made, as fair and white as any one would
wish to sleep in, with silken pillows and curtains and gold fringe. All
that was in the room was gold or silver; but when she had gone to bed,
and put out the light, a man came and laid himself alongside her. That
was the White Bear, who threw off his beast shape at night; but she
never saw him, for he always came after she had put out the light, and
before the day dawned he was up and off again. So things went on happily
for a while, but at last she began to get silent and sorrowful; for
there she went about all day alone, and she longed to go home to see her
father and mother, and brothers and sisters. So one day, when the White
Bear asked what it was that she lacked, she said it was so dull and
lonely there, and how she longed to go home to see her father and
mother, and brothers and sisters, and that was why she was so sad and
sorrowful, because she couldn’t get to them.
“Well, well!” said the Bear, “perhaps there’s a cure for all this; but
you must promise me one thing, not to talk alone with your mother, but
only when the rest are by to hear; for she’ll take you by the hand and
try to lead you into a room alone to talk; but you must mind and not do
that, else you’ll bring bad luck on both of us.”
So one Sunday the White Bear came and said, now they could set off to
see her father and mother. Well, off they started, she sitting on his
back; and they went far and long. At last they came to a grand house,
and there her brothers and sisters were running about out of doors at
play, and everything was so pretty, ’twas a joy to see.
“This is where your father and mother live now,” said the White Bear;
“but don’t forget what I told you, else you’ll make us both unlucky.”
“No! bless her, she’d not forget;” and when she had reached the house,
the White Bear turned right about and left her.
Then when she went in to see her father and mother, there was such joy,
there was no end to it. None of them thought they could thank her enough
for all she had done for them. Now, they had everything they wished, as
good as good could be, and they all wanted to know how she got on where
she lived.
Well, she said, it was very good to live where she did; she had all she
wished. What she said beside I don’t know; but I don’t think any of them
had the right end of the stick, or that they got much out of her. But so
in the afternoon, after they had done dinner, all happened as the White
Bear had said. Her mother wanted to talk with her alone in her bed-room;
but she minded what the White Bear had said, and wouldn’t go up stairs.
“Oh! what we have to talk about, will keep,” she said, and put her
mother off. But some how or other, her mother got round her at last, and
she had to tell her the whole story. So she said, how every night, when
she had gone to bed, a man came and lay down beside her as soon as she
had put out the light, and how she never saw him, because he was always
up and away before the morning dawned; and how she went about woeful and
sorrowing, for she thought she should so like to see him, and how all
day long she walked about there alone, and how dull, and dreary, and
lonesome it was.
“My!” said her mother; “it may well be a Troll you slept with! But now
I’ll teach you a lesson how to set eyes on him. I’ll give you a bit of
candle, which you can carry home in your bosom; just light that while he
is asleep, but take care not to drop the tallow on him.”
Yes! she took the candle and hid it in her bosom, and as night drew on,
the White Bear came and fetched her away.
But when they had gone a bit of the way, the White Bear asked if all
hadn’t happened as he had said?
“Well she couldn’t say it hadn’t.”
“Now, mind,” said he, “if you have listened to your mother’s advice, you
have brought bad luck on us both, and then, all that has passed between
us will be as nothing.”
“No,” she said, “she hadn’t listened to her mother’s advice.”
So when she reached home, and had gone to bed, it was the old story over
again. There came a man and lay down beside her; but at dead of night,
when she heard he slept, she got up and struck a light, lit the candle,
and let the light shine on him, and so she saw that he was the loveliest
Prince one ever set eyes on, and she fell so deep in love with him on
the spot, that she thought she couldn’t live if she didn’t give him a
kiss there and then. And so she did, but as she kissed him, she dropped
three hot drops of tallow on his shirt, and he woke up.
“What have you done?” he cried; “now you have made us both unlucky, for
had you held out only this one year, I had been freed. For I have a
step-mother who has bewitched me, so that I am a White Bear by day, and
a Man by night. But now all ties are snapt between us; now I must set
off from you to her. She lives in a Castle which stands EAST O’ THE SUN
AND WEST O’ THE MOON, and there, too, is a Princess, with a nose three
ells long, and she’s the wife I must have now.”
She wept and took it ill, but there was no help for it; go he must.
Then she asked if she mightn’t go with him?
No, she mightn’t.
“Tell me the way then,” she said; “and I’ll search you out; _that_
surely I may get leave to do.”
“Yes, she might do that,” he said; “but there was no way to that place.
It lay EAST O’ THE SUN AND WEST O’ THE MOON, and thither she’d never
find her way.”
So next morning, when she woke up, both Prince and castle were gone, and
then she lay on a little green patch, in the midst of the gloomy thick
wood, and by her side lay the same bundle of rags she had brought with
her from her old home.
So when she had rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and wept till she was
tired, she set out on her way, and walked many, many days, till she came
to a lofty crag. Under it sat an old hag, and played with a gold apple
which she tossed about. Her the lassie asked if she knew the way to the
Prince, who lived with his step-mother in the Castle, that lay EAST O’
THE SUN AND WEST O’ THE MOON, and who was to marry the Princess, with a
nose three ells long.
“How did you come to know about him?” asked the old hag; “but maybe you
are the lassie who ought to have had him?”
Yes, she was.
“So, so; it’s you, is it?” said the old hag. “Well, all I know about him
is, that he lives in the castle that lies EAST O’ THE SUN AND WEST O’
THE MOON, and thither you’ll come, late or never; but still you may have
the loan of my horse, and on him you can ride to my next neighbour.
Maybe she’ll be able to tell you; and when you get there, just give the
horse a switch under the left ear, and beg him to be off home; and,
stay, this gold apple you may take with you.”
So she got upon the horse, and rode a long long time, till she came to
another crag, under which sat another old hag, with a gold carding comb.
Her the lassie asked if she knew the way to the castle that lay EAST O’
THE SUN AND WEST O’ THE MOON, and she answered, like the first old hag,
that she knew nothing about it, except it was east o’ the sun and west
o’ the moon.
“And thither you’ll come, late or never, but you shall have the loan of
my horse to my next neighbour; maybe she’ll tell you all about it; and
when you get there, just switch the horse under the left ear, and beg
him to be off home.”
And this old hag gave her the golden carding comb; it might be she’d
find the use for it, she said. So the lassie got up on the horse, and
rode a far far way, and a weary time; and so at last she came to another
great crag, under which sat another old hag, spinning with a golden
spinning-wheel. Her, too, she asked if she knew the way to the Prince,
and where the castle was that lay EAST O’ THE SUN AND WEST O’ THE MOON.
So it was the same thing over again.
“Maybe it’s you who ought to have had the Prince?” said the old hag.
Yes, it was.
But she, too, didn’t know the way a bit better than the other two, “East
o’ the sun and west o’ the moon it was,” she knew—that was all.
“And thither you’ll come, late or never; but I’ll lend you my horse, and
then I think you’d best ride to the East Wind and ask him; maybe he
knows those parts, and can blow you thither. But when you get to him,
you need only give the horse a switch under the left ear, and he’ll trot
home of himself.”
And so, too, she gave her the gold spinning-wheel. “Maybe you’ll find a
use for it,” said the old hag.
Then on she rode many many days, a weary time, before she got to the
East Wind’s house, but at last she did reach it, and then she asked the
East Wind if he could tell her the way to the Prince who dwelt east o’
the sun and west o’ the moon. Yes, the East Wind had often heard tell of
it, the Prince, and the castle, but he couldn’t tell the way, for he had
never blown so far.
“But, if you will, I’ll go with you to my brother the West Wind, maybe
he knows, for he’s much stronger. So, if you will just get on my back,
I’ll carry you thither.”
Yes, she got on his back, and I should just think they went briskly
along.
So when they got there, they went into the West Wind’s house, and the
East Wind said the lassie he had brought was the one who ought to have
had the Prince who lived in the castle EAST O’ THE SUN AND WEST O’ THE
MOON; and so she had set out to seek him, and how he had come with her,
and would be glad to know if the West Wind knew how to get to the
castle.
“Nay,” said the West Wind, “so far I’ve never blown; but if you will,
I’ll go with you to our brother the South Wind, for he’s much stronger
than either of us, and he has flapped his wings far and wide. Maybe
he’ll tell you. You can get on my back, and I’ll carry you to him.”
Yes! she got on his back, and so they travelled to the South Wind, and
weren’t so very long on the way, I should think.
When they got there, the West Wind asked him if he could tell her the
way to the castle that lay EAST O’ THE SUN AND WEST O’ THE MOON, for it
was she who ought to have had the Prince who lived there.
“You don’t say so. That’s she, is it?” said the South Wind.
“Well, I have blustered about in most places in my time, but so far have
I never blown; but if you will, I’ll take you to my brother the North
Wind; he is the oldest and strongest of the whole lot of us, and if he
don’t know where it is, you’ll never find any one in the world to tell
you. You can get on my back, and I’ll carry you thither.”
Yes! she got on his back, and away he went from his house at a fine
rate. And this time, too, she wasn’t long on her way.
So when they got to the North Wind’s house, he was so wild and cross,
cold puffs came from him a long way off.
“BLAST YOU BOTH, WHAT DO YOU WANT?” he roared out to them ever so far
off, so that it struck them with an icy shiver.
“Well,” said the south Wind, “you needn’t be so foul-mouthed, for here I
am, your brother the South Wind, and here is the lassie who ought to
have had the Prince who dwells in the castle that lies EAST O’ THE SUN
AND WEST O’ THE MOON, and now she wants to ask you if you ever were
there, and can tell her the way, for she would be so glad to find him
again.”
“YES, I KNOW WELL ENOUGH WHERE IT IS,” said the North Wind; “once in my
life I blew an aspen leaf thither, but I was so tired I couldn’t blow a
puff for ever so many days after. But if you really wish to go thither,
and aren’t afraid to come along with me, I’ll take you on my back and
see if I can blow you thither.”
Yes! with all her heart; she must and would get thither if it were
possible in any way; and as for fear, however madly he went, she
wouldn’t be at all afraid.
“Very well then,” said the North Wind, “but you must sleep here
to-night, for we must have the whole day before us if we’re to get
thither at all.”
Early next morning the North Wind woke her, and puffed himself up, and
blew himself out, and made himself so stout and big, ’twas gruesome to
look at him; and so off they went, high up through the air, as if they
would never stop till they got to the world’s end.
Down here below there was such a storm; it threw down long tracts of
wood and many houses, and when it swept over the great sea ships
foundered by hundreds.
So they tore on and on,—no one can believe how far they went,—and all
the while they still went over the sea, and the North Wind got more and
more weary, and so out of breath he could scarce bring out a puff, and
his wings drooped and drooped, till at last he sunk so low that the
crests of the waves dashed over his heels.
“Are you afraid?” said the North Wind.
No! she wasn’t.
But they weren’t very far from land; and the North Wind had still so
much strength left in him that he managed to throw her up on the shore
under the windows of the castle which lay EAST O’ THE SUN AND WEST O’
THE MOON; but then he was so weak and worn out, he had to stay there and
rest many days before he could get home again.
Next morning the lassie sat down under the castle window, and began to
play with the gold apple; and the first person she saw was the Long-nose
who was to have the Prince.
“What do you want for your gold apple, you lassie?” said the Long-nose,
and threw up the window.
“It’s not for sale for gold or money,” said the lassie.
“If it’s not for sale for gold or money, what is it that you will sell
it for! You may name your own price,” said the Princess.
“Well! if I may get to the Prince, who lives here, and be with him to
night, you shall have it,” said the lassie whom the North Wind had
brought.
Yes! she might; that could be done. So the Princess got the gold apple;
but when the lassie came up to the Prince’s bed-room at night he was
fast asleep; she called him and shook him, and between whiles she wept
sore; but all she could do she couldn’t wake him up. Next morning, as
soon as day broke, came the Princess with the long nose, and drove her
out again.
So in the daytime she sat down under the castle windows and began to
card with her golden carding-comb, and the same thing happened. The
Princess asked what she wanted for it; and she said it wasn’t for sale
for gold or money, but if she might get leave to go up to the Prince and
be with him that night, the Princess should have it. But when she went
up, she found him fast asleep again, and all she called, and all she
shook, and wept, and prayed, she couldn’t get life into him; and as soon
as the first gray peep of day came, then came the Princess with the long
nose, and chased her out again.
So, in the day time, the lassie sat down outside under the castle
window, and began to spin with her golden spinning-wheel, and that, too,
the Princess with the long nose wanted to have. So she threw up the
window and asked what she wanted for it. The lassie said, as she had
said twice before, it wasn’t for sale for gold or money; but if she
might go up to the Prince who was there, and be with him alone that
night, she might have it.
Yes! she might do that and welcome. But now you must know there were
some Christian folk who had been carried off thither, and as they sat in
their room, which was next the Prince, they had heard how a woman had
been in there, and wept and prayed, and called to him two nights
running, and they told that to the Prince.
That evening, when the Princess came with her sleepy drink, the Prince
made as if he drank, but threw it over his shoulder, for he could guess
it was a sleepy drink. So, when the lassie came in, she found the Prince
wide awake; and then she told him the whole story how she had come
thither.
“Ah,” said the Prince, “you’ve just come in the very nick of time, for
to-morrow is to be our wedding-day; but now I won’t have the Long-nose,
and you are the only woman in the world who can set me free. I’ll say I
want to see what my wife is fit for, and beg her to wash the shirt which
has the three spots of tallow on it; she’ll say yes, for she doesn’t
know ’tis you who put them there; but that’s a work only for Christian
folk, and not for such a pack of Trolls, and so I’ll say that I won’t
have any other for my bride than the woman who can wash them out, and
ask you to do it.”
So there was great joy and love between them all that night. But next
day, when the wedding was to be, the Prince said,—
“First of all, I’d like to see what my bride is fit for.”
“Yes!” said the step-mother, with all her heart.
“Well,” said the Prince, “I’ve got a fine shirt which I’d like for my
wedding shirt, but somehow or other it has got three spots of tallow on
it, which I must have washed out; and I have sworn never to take any
other bride than the woman who’s able to do that. If she can’t, she’s
not worth having.”
Well, that was no great thing they said, so they agreed, and she with
the Long-nose began to wash away as hard as she could, but the more she
rubbed and scrubbed, the bigger the spots grew.
“Ah!” said the old hag, her mother, “you can’t wash; let me try.”
But she hadn’t long taken the shirt in hand, before it got far worse
than ever, and with all her rubbing, and wringing, and scrubbing, the
spots grew bigger and blacker, and the darker and uglier was the shirt.
Then all the other Trolls began to wash, but the longer it lasted, the
blacker and uglier the shirt grew, till at last it was as black all over
as if it had been up the chimney.
“Ah!” said the Prince, “you’re none of you worth a straw; you can’t
wash. Why there, outside, sits a beggar lassie, I’ll be bound she knows
how to wash better than the whole lot of you. COME IN LASSIE!” he
shouted.
Well, in she came.
“Can you wash this shirt clean, lassie, you?” said he.
“I don’t know,” she said, “but I think I can.”
And almost before she had taken it and dipped it in the water, it was as
white as driven snow, and whiter still.
“Yes; you are the lassie for me,” said the Prince.
At that the old hag flew into such a rage, she burst on the spot, and
the Princess with the long nose after her, and the whole pack of Trolls
after her,—at least I’ve never heard a word about them since.
As for the Prince and Princess, they set free all the poor Christian
folk who had been carried off and shut up there; and they took with them
all the silver and gold, and flitted away as far as they could from the
Castle that lay EAST O’ THE SUN AND WEST O’ THE MOON.
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