“Now we must show our mettle;” and went at it again till the stones flew
heaven-high about them, and so they got up.
Then the lad rode right into the cave at full speed and caught up the
Princess, and threw her over his saddle-bow, and out and down again
before the Troll had time even to get on his legs; and so the Princess
was freed.
When the lad came back to the palace, the king was both happy and glad
to get his daughter back; that you may well believe; but some how or
other, though I don’t know how, the others about the court had so
brought it about that the king was angry with the lad after all.
“Thanks you shall have for freeing my Princess,” said he to the lad,
when he brought the Princess into the hall, and made his bow.
“She ought to be mine as well as yours; for you’re a word-fast man, I
hope,” said the lad.
“Aye, aye!” said the king, “have her you shall, since I said it; but
first of all, you must make the sun shine into my palace hall.”
Now you must know there was a high steep ridge of rock close outside the
windows, which threw such a shade over the hall that never a sunbeam
shone into it.
“That wasn’t in our bargain,” answered the lad; “but I see this is past
praying against; I must e’en go and try my luck, for the Princess I must
and will have.”
So down he went to Dapple, and told him what the king wanted, and
Dapplegrim thought it might easily be done, but first of all he must be
new shod; and for that ten pound of iron, and twelve pound of steel
besides, were needed, and two smiths, one to hammer and the other to
hold, and then they’d soon get the sun to shine into the palace hall.
So when the lad asked for all these things, he got them at once—the king
couldn’t say nay for very shame; and so Dapplegrim got new shoes, and
such shoes! Then the lad jumped upon his back, and off they went again;
and for every leap that Dapplegrim gave, down sank the ridge fifteen
ells into the earth, and so they went on till there was nothing left of
the ridge for the king to see.
When the lad got back to the king’s palace, he asked the king if the
Princess were not his now; for now no one could say that the sun didn’t
shine into the hall. But then the others set the king’s back up again,
and he answered the lad should have her of course, he had never thought
of any thing else; but first of all he must get as grand a horse for the
bride to ride on to church as the bridegroom had himself.
The lad said the king hadn’t spoken a word about this before, and that
he thought he had now fairly earned the Princess; but the king held to
his own; and more, if the lad couldn’t do that he should lose his life;
that was what the king said. So the lad went down to the stable in
doleful dumps, as you may well fancy, and there he told Dapplegrim all
about it; how the king had laid that task on him, to find the bride as
good a horse as the bridegroom had himself, else he would lose his life.
“But that’s not so easy,” he said, “for your match isn’t to be found in
the wide world.”
“Oh yes, I have a match,” said Dapplegrim; “but ’tisn’t so easy to find
him, for he abides in Hell. Still, we’ll try. And now you must go up to
the king and ask for new shoes for me, ten pound of iron, and twelve
pound of steel; and two smiths, one to hammer and one to hold; and mind
you see that the points and ends of these shoes are sharp; and twelve
sacks of rye, and twelve sacks of barley, and twelve slaughtered oxen,
we must have with us; and mind, we must have the twelve ox-hides, with
twelve hundred spikes driven into each; and, let me see, a big
tar-barrel;—that’s all we want.”
So the lad went up to the king and asked for all that Dapplegrim had
said, and the king again thought he couldn’t say nay, for shame’s sake,
and so the lad got all he wanted.
Well, he jumped up on Dapplegrim’s back, and rode away from the palace,
and when he had ridden far far over hill and heath, Dapple asked,—
“Do you hear anything?”
“Yes, I hear an awful hissing and rustling up in the air,” said the lad;
“I think I’m getting afraid.”
“That’s all the wild birds that fly through the wood. They are sent to
stop us; but just cut a hole in the corn-sacks, and then they’ll have so
much to do with the corn, they’ll forget us quite.”
Yes! the lad did that; he cut holes in the corn-sacks, so that the rye
and barley ran out on all sides. Then all the wild birds that were in
the wood came flying round them so thick that the sunbeams grew dark;
but as soon as they saw the corn, they couldn’t keep to their purpose,
but flew down and began to pick and scratch at the rye and barley, and
after that, they began to fight among themselves. As for Dapplegrim and
the lad, they forgot all about them, and did them no harm.
So the lad rode on and on—far far over mountain and dale, over
sand-hills and moor. Then Dapplegrim began to prick up his ears again,
and at last he asked the lad if he heard anything?
“Yes! now I hear such an ugly roaring and howling in the wood all round,
it makes me quite afraid.”
“Ah?” said Dapplegrim, “that’s all the wild beasts that range through
the wood, and they’re sent out to stop us. But just cast out the twelve
carcasses of the oxen, that will give them enough to do, and so they’ll
forget us outright.”
Yes! the lad cast out the carcasses, and then all the wild beasts in the
wood, both bears, and wolves, and lions—all fell beasts of all
kinds—came after them. But when they saw the carcasses, they began to
fight for them among themselves, till blood flowed in streams; but
Dapplegrim and the lad they quite forgot.
So the lad rode far away, and they changed the landscape many, many
times, for Dapplegrim didn’t let the grass grow under him, as you may
fancy. At last Dapple gave a great neigh.
“Do you hear anything?” he said.
“Yes, I hear something like a colt neighing loud, a long, long way off,”
answered the lad.
“That’s a full-grown colt then,” said Dapplegrim, “if we hear him neigh
so loud such a long way off.”
After that they travelled a good bit, changing the landscape once or
twice, maybe. Then Dapplegrim gave another neigh.
“Now listen, and tell me if you hear anything,” he said.
“Yes, now I hear a neigh like a full-grown horse,” answered the lad.
“Aye! aye!” said Dapplegrim, “you’ll hear him once again soon, and then
you’ll hear he’s got a voice of his own.”
So they travelled on and on, and changed the landscape once or twice,
perhaps, and then Dapplegrim neighed the third time; but before he could
ask the lad if he heard anything, something gave such a neigh across the
heathy hill-side, the lad thought hill and rock would surely be rent
asunder.
“Now he’s here!” said Dapplegrim; “make haste, now, and throw the ox
hides, with the spikes in them, over me, and throw down the tar-barrel
on the plain; then climb up into that great spruce-fir yonder. When it
comes, fire will flash out of both nostrils, and then the tar-barrel
will catch fire. Now, mind what I say. If the flame rises, I win; if it
falls, I lose; but if you see me winning, take and cast the bridle—you
must take it off me—over its head, and then it will be tame enough.”
So just as the lad had done throwing the ox hides, with the spikes, over
Dapplegrim, and had cast down the tar-barrel on the plain, and had got
well up into the spruce-fir, up galloped a horse, with fire flashing out
of his nostrils, and the flame caught the tar-barrel at once. Then
Dapplegrim and the strange horse began to fight till the stones flew
heaven high. They fought, and bit, and kicked, both with fore-feet and
hind-feet, and sometimes the lad could see them, and sometimes he
couldn’t; but at last the flame began to rise; for wherever the strange
horse kicked or bit, he met the spiked hides, and at last he had to
yield. When the lad saw that, he wasn’t long in getting down from the
tree, and in throwing the bridle over its head, and then it was so tame
you could hold it with a pack-thread.
And what do you think? that horse was dappled too, and so like
Dapplegrim, you couldn’t tell which was which. Then the lad bestrode the
new Dapple he had broken, and rode home to the palace, and old
Dapplegrim ran loose by his side. So when he got home, there stood the
king out in the yard.
“Can you tell me now,” said the lad, “which is the horse I have caught
and broken, and which is the one I had before. If you can’t, I think
your daughter is fairly mine.”
Then the king went and looked at both Dapples, high and low, before and
behind, but there wasn’t a hair on one which wasn’t on the other as
well.
“No,” said the king, “that I can’t; and since you’ve got my daughter
such a grand horse for her wedding, you shall have her with all my
heart. But still we’ll have one trial more, just to see whether you’re
fated to have her. First, she shall hide herself twice, and then you
shall hide yourself twice. If you can find out her hiding-place, and she
can’t find out yours, why then you’re fated to have her, and so you
shall have her.”
“That’s not in the bargain either,” said the lad; “but we must just try,
since it must be so;” and so the Princess went off to hide herself
first.
So she turned herself into a duck, and lay swimming on a pond that was
close to the palace. But the lad only ran down to the stable, and asked
Dapplegrim what she had done with herself.
“Oh, you only need to take your gun,” said Dapplegrim, “and go down to
the brink of the pond, and aim at the duck which lies swimming about
there, and she’ll soon show herself.”
So the lad snatched up his gun and ran off to the pond. “I’ll just take
a pop at this duck,” he said, and began to aim at it.
“Nay, nay, dear friend, don’t shoot. It’s I,” said the Princess.
So he had found her once.
The second time the Princess turned herself into a loaf of bread, and
laid herself on the table among four other loaves; and so like was she
to the others, no one could say which was which.
But the lad went again down to the stable to Dapplegrim, and said how
the Princess had hidden herself again, and he couldn’t tell at all what
had become of her.
“Oh, just take and sharpen a good breadknife,” said Dapplegrim, “and do
as if you were going to cut in two the third loaf on the left hand of
those four loaves which are lying on the dresser in the king’s kitchen,
and you’ll find her soon enough.”
Yes! the lad was down in the kitchen in no time, and began to sharpen
the biggest breadknife he could lay hands on; then he caught hold of the
third loaf on the left hand, and put the knife to it, as though he was
going to cut it in two.
“I’ll just have a slice off this loaf,” he said.
“Nay, dear friend,” said the Princess, “don’t cut. It’s I.”
So he had found her twice.
Then he was to go and hide; but he and Dapplegrim had settled it all so
well beforehand, it wasn’t easy to find him. First he turned himself
into a tick, and hid himself in Dapplegrim’s left nostril; and the
Princess went about hunting him everywhere, high and low; at last she
wanted to go into Dapplegrim’s stall, but he began to bite and kick, so
that she daren’t go near him, and so she couldn’t find the lad.
“Well,” she said, “since I can’t find you, you must show where you are
yourself;” and in a trice the lad stood there on the stable floor.
The second time Dapplegrim told him again what to do; and then he turned
himself into a clod of earth, and stuck himself between Dapple’s hoof
and shoe on the near forefoot. So the Princess hunted up and down, out
and in, everywhere; at last she came into the stable, and wanted to go
into Dapplegrim’s loose-box. This time he let her come up to him, and
she pried high and low, but under his hoofs she couldn’t come, for he
stood firm as a rock on his feet, and so she couldn’t find the lad.
“Well; you must just show yourself, for I’m sure I can’t find you,” said
the Princess, and as she spoke the lad stood by her side on the stable
floor.
“Now you are mine indeed,” said the lad; “for now you can see I’m fated
to have you.” This he said both to the father and daughter.
“Yes; it is so fated,” said the king; “so it must be.”
Then they got ready the wedding in right down earnest, and lost no time
about it; and the lad got on Dapplegrim, and the Princess on
Dapplegrim’s match, and then you may fancy they were not long on their
way to the church.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
THE SEVEN FOALS
]