Before times long past there reigned a king somewhere, and he had
three sons. When they had grown up, and were trained as befits
princes, they came one day to their father and said: "Our kingly
father, permit us to visit strange lands, since we know our own
country well."
"Yes, it is proper," answered the king, wisely, "for royal princes to
know more than any of my subjects; and I permit what ye ask, but on
one condition. Ye are all of an age in which almost every man seeks
the partner of his life; and as far as I know, ye also will do the
same. I have no wish to tell you what princesses to fall in love with,
but I ask this: Return before a year and a day, and bring me some
gift--not costly, but valued--from your chosen ones."
The princes were astonished that their father had guessed their
thoughts so well, and agreed without thinking. Then they took their
crossbows and went to the open field. The eldest son let the
bow-string go, and the arrow flew to the east. The second let the
string go, and the arrow flew to the west.
"And where am I to aim?" cried the youngest, whose name was Yarmil.
That moment a mouse ran near him to its hole; he let the string go,
and the arrow flew after the mouse.
"Oh, thoughtless fellow!" said the eldest prince in rebuke; "now thou
must go to the mouse-hole."
"It is settled," answered Yarmil, and shrugged his shoulders.
They went home, prepared for the road, and next day started; the
eldest to the east, the second to the west, and Yarmil to the
mouse-hole. Up to that moment he had held it merely a jest; but how
was he astonished when on nearing the place the earth opened so that
he rode in conveniently, and sooner than he could think was in an open
country, in the middle of which stood a white marble castle. Nowhere
did he see a living soul; and he felt sure then that he would find no
one in the castle; but scarcely had he entered the gate when a lady
came forth to meet him who had not only garments, but face, hair,
eyes, in short everything, white as newly fallen snow. She held by the
bridle a mettlesome white steed, and without saying a word, indicated
to Yarmil to descend from his own horse and sit on the white one; but
he had barely mounted the white steed when it rose with him through
the air, and without heeding the bit, went on till it brought him to
the earth before a splendid castle. Yarmil marvelled, for the castle
was so brilliant that he could not look at it, such was the glitter of
gold and precious stones. Around about, wherever the eye could see,
was a beautiful garden, in which the most luxuriant trees were
growing, the most beautiful flowers were in bloom, and birds of every
color were singing.
When he had recovered from the first surprise, Yarmil dismounted and
wished to lead the steed to the castle; but it tore away, rose through
the air, and vanished like a white dove in the clouds.
Full of expectation Yarmil entered the castle. He struck on the gate;
no answer, but it opened of itself. He went in on broad marble steps
to the door of the first chamber. Again he knocked; no answer, but the
door opened. He entered, but how did he wonder again! There was such
splendor that he exclaimed, "My father is by far the richest king, but
this chamber alone is worth more than his kingdom."
But if the first chamber was rich, the second was richer; and that
splendor increased till he came to the eleventh, where there was a
great crystal tub with golden hoops, into which, through a golden
pipe, water still clearer than crystal was flowing. In the twelfth
chamber were only four naked walls, an ordinary ceiling, and a common
floor, but in the middle of the floor a diamond pan. When Yarmil
examined more carefully, he saw written on it: "Whoever wishes to
liberate me must carry me next to his body, and bathe me each day."
Urged by curiosity Yarmil removed a diamond, then a golden, and
finally, with great effort, a silver, cover. But how was he
frightened when under it appeared a great ugly toad! He wished to
escape, but at that moment such terror seized him that in spite of
himself he took the toad out of the pan and put it in his bosom. The
toad chilled him, but in a moment he was as happy as if he had
liberated some one from death. Straightway he went to the eleventh
chamber, took the toad from his bosom, and washed it carefully; but to
his great affliction he saw that it was a toad, and the more he washed
the uglier it grew. When he had grown tired he put it in his bosom
again and went to the garden to cheer himself.
A sight of the trees and the flowers hitherto unnoticed, the odor of
them, and the singing of the birds entertained him so that midday came
before he knew it. He went back to the castle, and there, to his great
surprise, saw in the first chamber a table covered with the most
delicate dishes. He sat down with appetite, and when he had eaten to
his content, and drunk of the wine which an unseen hand had placed
before him in a golden goblet, he confessed that he had never tasted
at his father's table, or at the greatest festivals, such delicate
dishes and such good wine.
Now he looked the room through with more care; the splendor did not
charm him so much as at first, but the many musical instruments,
writing implements, and beautiful books pleased him beyond measure,
for he was skilled in every good art.
After the supper, which was as good as the dinner, he lay on a soft
bed and slept soundly till morning; then he ate a good meal, which was
on the table, and spent the time as he had the day before. He was
annoyed at his lonely life, but he soon drove away trouble. He was
grieved because the more the toad was washed the uglier it grew; still
he washed it with care, and carried it in his bosom.
Now the year was nearing its end, when he had to return to his father
with a gift from his bride. He walked like one deprived of reason
through the castle and the garden; nothing could comfort him, but
still he did not forget to bathe the toad each day, and with greater
care. When the last day of the year had come, he knew not what to
begin; but while walking through the room he saw on his writing-table
a sheet of paper not there before. He seized it quickly; and on it was
written in black letters:
Dear Yarmil,--I love thee unspeakably; but be thou patient, as I
am patient. A gift for thy father thou hast in the pan; give it
to him, but tarry not long at home. Put me back in the pan.
Yarmil hastened with joy to the twelfth chamber, took from the pan a
rich casket set with diamonds, and put the toad in the pan; then he
ran out quickly, mounted the white steed which was waiting, and which
rose in the air and flew regardless of bit, till it stopped before the
white castle; there the white lady gave Yarmil his horse, took the
white steed, and led it away.
In a short time Yarmil came to the great gate, and when he had ridden
through and looked, there was nothing behind but a mouse-hole. Putting
spurs to his horse he rushed on at a gallop and came to the gate of
his father's castle almost at the same moment as his brothers, so that
all three were able to appear together before their father, and say:
"Here we are, according to thy command."
"But have ye brought gifts from your princesses?" asked the king.
"Of course," cried the elder brothers, proudly. Yarmil answered, as it
were, timidly, with a nod; for he knew not what was in that casket
taken from the pan.
The king had invited a great number of guests to look at the gifts.
All were in the banqueting-hall. The king led his sons thither, and
when the feast was ended, he said to the eldest: "Now give me the gift
from thy princess."
"My love is the daughter of a great king," said the prince, proudly;
and he gave his father a casket containing a small mirror.
The king looked, and wondered not a little that he saw his whole
person. Then he said: "Well, men's hands can do everything."
The second son gave him a still smaller mirror, but the king saw in it
his whole person; still he only said: "Men's hands can do everything.
But what has thy princess sent me?" asked he of Yarmil. In silence,
and timidly, Yarmil gave him the casket. The king barely looked in it
when he cried in amazement, "That princess of thine has wealth in
abundance; these diamonds alone have more value than my kingdom." But
he wondered when he took from the casket another such mirror, but
smaller; and he was really frightened when in a twinkle a puppet
sprang out and held the glass for him as soon as he looked at it, and
the moment he stopped looking the puppet was gone.
"Oh," cried the king, "no hand of man could frame that;" and embracing
Yarmil, he added with tenderness: "Thou hast brought me true joy, my
son."
Yarmil called to mind the ugly toad, and had no regret now that he had
spent a whole year with it; but his brothers and his mother, who was a
witch and hated Yarmil, were enraged though they dissembled.
When the feast was over and the princes were parting with their
father, he said: "Go now with rejoicing, but return in a year and a
day, and bring me portraits of your princesses."
The elder brothers promised with joy, but Yarmil barely nodded, for he
feared what his father would say should he bring the toad's portrait;
still he went with his brothers beyond the town, where he parted with
them, and galloped on to the mouse-hole. He was just drawing near
when the ground opened to give a good entrance. At the white castle
the white lady took his horse and gave him the white steed, which rose
through the air, and regardless of bit, flew on till it reached the
golden castle. Yarmil hurried to the twelfth chamber; the steed
disappeared like a dove in the clouds.
In the castle nothing was changed, and the diamond pan was standing in
the twelfth chamber. Yarmil removed the three covers, took out the
toad and placed it in his bosom. Now he bathed it twice each day, but
to his grief it grew uglier. How could he take the portrait of his
princess to his father! He might paint the most beautiful lady,
because he was very well skilled in painting, but he would not deceive
his father. Only the hope that the toad would help him as before gave
him strength to endure the dreary life.
At last the day was near in which he must return to his father. He
looked continually on his writing-table till he saw to his great joy a
sheet of paper on which was written in silver letters,--
Dear Yarmil,--I love thee unspeakably; be patient, as I am
patient. Thou hast my portrait in the pan; give it to thy
father, but tarry not long. Put me back in the pan.
Yarmil hastened to the twelfth chamber, found in the pan a casket
still richer than the first. He took it quickly, and put the toad in
its place. Then he hurried forth, sat on the white steed, which
brought him to the white castle, where the white lady gave him his own
horse. When he had ridden through the gate and looked back, he saw
nothing behind but a mouse-hole. He put spurs to his horse, and rode
to the gate of his father's castle at the same time with his brothers.
They stood before their father and said: "Here we are, as thou hast
commanded."
"Do ye bring me portraits of your princesses?" asked the king.
"Of course!" exclaimed the two elder brothers, full of pride. But
Yarmil only answered with a nod, for he knew not what portrait the
casket contained.
The king led them to the banqueting-hall, where the guests were
assembled. When the banquet was over, he said to the eldest: "Now show
me the portrait of thy princess."
The eldest brother gave a rich casket to his father. He opened it,
took out a portrait, and looking at it from every side, said at last:
"That is a beautiful lady; she pleases me. Still there are fairer than
she in the world, but any man might love her." Then he gave the
portrait to the guests, and said to his second son: "And the portrait
of thy princess?"
The second son gave him promptly a richer casket, and smiled with
happiness. He thought doubtless that his father must be astonished at
the beauty of his princess; but he looked on her with indifference and
said: "A beautiful lady too, but there are more beautiful in the
world; still any man might fall in love with her."
Then he nodded to Yarmil, who gave with trembling hand his diamond
casket. Scarcely had the king looked at it when he exclaimed: "Thy
princess must be rich beyond measure; thy casket is at any time worth
twice my whole kingdom." But how was he astonished when he took out
the portrait! He looked fixedly at it for a while, unable to utter a
word. Then he said with the greatest enthusiasm, "No; such a lady
cannot be found in the world."
All the guests crowded around the portrait, and in one voice agreed
with the king. At last Yarmil drew near to look at his princess,
unknown till that moment. Now he regretted no whit that he had spent
two years in lone life and nursing a toad; but his brothers and his
mother were raging, and envied him his princess.
Next day the princes were taking farewell, and the king said to them:
"After this time I will not let you go again. In a year and a day I
wish to see your princesses; then we will celebrate the weddings."
The two elder brothers were shouting with joy, but Yarmil answered no
word. They took leave of their father and went together to the edge of
the town, where they separated; the eldest went to the east, the
second to the west, but Yarmil to the mouse-hole, which opened quickly
to give him a convenient passage. At the white castle the white lady
gave him the white steed, which flew to the golden castle regardless
of bit. There Yarmil descended, and the steed vanished like a dove in
the clouds.
Full of hope Yarmil hastened to the twelfth chamber, for he trusted to
find there his wondrous fair princess whose portrait he had taken to
his father; but he found in the pan the ugly toad, which he put in his
bosom, and now washed three times each day. In vain was all his labor,
for the more he bathed the uglier grew the toad. Had it not been for
the portrait he would have fled from the castle, and who knows what he
might have done? Every day his strength decreased, and when the last
day of the year drew near it is a wonder that he did not despair; for
the toad had become now not only ugly beyond measure, but all mangy,
so that he shivered when he looked at it. And now he must bring this
to his father as his chosen one.
"My father will kill me!" cried he with grief, and threw himself on
the couch. He thought what to do, but could come to no resolve. At
last he reached to his bosom to look once more at the toad, hoping
that at sight of it a happy thought might come; but a new
surprise,--the toad was gone. Now he began to lament. He ran through
the whole castle, searched every room, in the garden every tree and
bush, but no trace of the toad.
At last he remembered the dish in the twelfth chamber, ran thither,
but stopped on the threshold as if thunderstruck; for that poor
chamber had become a real paradise, and in the middle of it stood a
lady as beautiful, if not still more beautiful, than the portrait
which he had carried to his father. In speechless amazement he looked
at her, and who knows how long he might have stood there had she not
turned to him and said: "My dear, thou hast suffered much; but I am
not yet entirely free, and my people are not. Hurry now to the cellar;
here is the key, and do to a hair what I command, or it will go ill
with us. When the door is opened, thou wilt hear a terrible wailing;
but listen to nothing, and speak not a word. Go down on the steps;
below thou wilt find on a table twelve burning tapers, and before each
taper one shirt. Roll up the shirts, quench the tapers, bring them all
with thee."
Yarmil took the key. When he opened the door of the cellar he heard
such wailing that it is a wonder his heart did not break; but mindful
of what had been said by his bride, he went boldly, descended the
steps, rolled up the twelve shirts, quenching at each one, one taper;
then he took the shirts and the tapers and hurried back. But how did
he wonder when he saw a man nailed to the door by his tongue! The man
begged Yarmil by all things to set him free, so that there was a
strange feeling in Yarmil's heart; but after short hesitation he
mastered this feeling, and shut the door.
When he came to his bride and gave her the shirts, with the tapers,
she said: "These twelve shirts are my twelve skins, in which I was a
toad; and these twelve tapers burned me continually. Now I am
liberated, it is true; but it will be three years before I shall be
completely free. Know that I am the daughter of a mighty king, whom
that foul monster, who is nailed to the cellar door by the tongue,
changed into a toad because I refused him my hand. He is a wizard; but
there is a witch more powerful than he. To punish him, she nailed him
to that door; I, too, am still in her power. Now promise that for
three years thou wilt tell no living person into what creature I was
enchanted; but especially tell not how many skins I had."
"Not even to my own mother!" exclaimed Yarmil, with excitement.
"It is just from thy own mother that thou must hide it most, for she
is a witch, and hates thee; she knows long since that thou art three
years with me, and most carefully will she try to learn from thee just
what I have forbidden thee to tell."
Yarmil was greatly grieved, but the princess soon cheered him,
especially when she said: "It is now high time to go, so as to come to
thy father's at the right moment." Then she took him by the hand, and
led him down the stairs. In front of the castle a carriage with four
white horses was waiting; when they entered, the horses rushed off
with such speed that soon they passed the white castle. Yarmil was
going to ask who the white lady was, when the princess said: "That is
my mother, who has aided in my liberation."
Soon they were at the great gate; and when they had passed it, and
looked back, there was nothing but a mouse-hole. They arrived at the
king's castle just in the same moment with the two elder brothers and
their princesses. But no one looked at them, for the eyes of all were
turned to Yarmil's bride.
The king was rejoiced most of all. He conducted the bride to the
banqueting-hall, where there was a multitude of guests, and with tears
of delight he exalted the happiness of his favorite son; but the elder
princes and the queen were enraged, though they would not let it be
known.
On the following day came the weddings of the three princes; though
Yarmil and his bride were the last, still glory came only to them. At
the banquet the guests drank continually to the health of his bride,
so that the other princesses were purple from shame.
When Yarmil was almost reeling with delight, the queen drew near him,
and praised with great flattery the beauty of his bride; but all at
once she spoke of her origin, and in every way tried to discover
whence she had come.
Yarmil at first evaded her questions; but when she urged him
vehemently to tell from what land came his bride, he said: "Dear
mother, I will do everything according to thy wish, but of this one
thing ask me not."
"I know well whence she comes," smiled the queen; "I know, too, that
thou didst not see her first in her present form."
"Of course not; but I am proud that I liberated her."
"Oh, my dear son!" exclaimed the queen, compassionately. "I pity thee
greatly for letting thyself be so duped; but dost thou know that that
beauty of hers is pure deceit?"
"Why?" asked Yarmil in fright.
"Because she is a witch," whispered the queen in his ear, with an
anxious look. "There is still time," continued she, when she saw that
Yarmil as it were believed, "to extricate thyself from her snares; and
I wish to aid thee in every way. But thou must tell me what form she
had before."
Yarmil said that he would not tell, but the queen did not abandon her
plan. When she could not discover from him directly, she began to name
every kind of beast, looking with exceeding quickness at his face.
Yarmil shook his head unceasingly, but was confused when she said
"toad."
"Then she was a toad before," cried in horror the queen. "Ah! dear
son, it is ill, very ill with thee; but it may be well yet if only I
know in how many skins she was living."
Again Yarmil answered decidedly that he would not tell, but the queen
tried so long that at last she discovered. Now she knew what she
wanted, and went from Yarmil. It is a wonder that he was not
suspicious, but he said nothing to the princess.
Next morning a number of guests went with the king and his sons to the
chase, and stayed in the forest till evening; thus the queen could act
freely.
While the three princesses and the remaining guests were walking in
the garden, she stole into the chamber of Yarmil's bride, found the
twelve shirts and the tapers, hid them in her own apartments, and in
the evening, when the king had returned from the chase and all were
sitting in the banqueting-hall at table, she went to the garden, where
she burned the shirts and the tapers. At that moment Yarmil's bride
felt great faintness, so that she went for fresh air in the garden.
Yarmil hurried after her, but he had scarcely gone through the door,
when she cried: "Woe is me, Yarmil! Thou hast told what I forbade thee
to tell. Forget me; I must now to the glass mountain, from which there
is no liberation." Straightway she vanished in the darkness of night.
Yarmil remained a moment as if paralyzed; then he ran through the
garden as if he had lost his wits, and called his bride by the most
endearing names, but in vain. The guests ran out at the sound of his
lamentation, and were greatly terrified when Yarmil told his
misfortune. The queen also came quickly, and listened as if with
terrified wonder to what had happened.
"That was a witch," said she; "and 'tis well that other mishaps have
not come."
But the king was grieved more than all, and put an end to the
rejoicing. Next day the two elder brothers went away with their
brides, and poor Yarmil stayed home alone. In vain did his father try
to comfort him; in vain did he promise that he would go himself to
seek another bride for him. Yarmil was not to be consoled; and when
the first onrush of sorrow had passed, he resolved to go to the glass
mountain for his bride.
"In what direction wilt thou go?" objected his father. "While I live
no one has heard of a glass mountain."
"Still I will go," said Yarmil, firmly. "It will come to the same
whether I perish on the road or at home; in any event I shall die of
disappointment."
The king tried in all ways to dissuade him from going, but Yarmil
would not let him talk. He mounted his horse, dropped the reins, and
let him go whithersoever he would. He travelled long in this
objectless way, hither and thither; but at last he saw that he must
act differently if he meant to reach the glass mountain. But now came
his real trouble; for wherever he asked about the glass mountain,
people stared at him, and said that there was no such mountain in the
world. Yarmil did not let himself be frightened; and now he galloped
the more eagerly on his horse, and asked the more carefully
everywhere. He had passed through towns without number, but still no
one knew of a glass mountain. At last he heard the name.
In a certain town there was a juggler,--a showman with every kind of
wonder. Yarmil was just going past him at the moment when he cried
out: "The witch with her twelve daughters on the glass mountain!"
Yarmil called the juggler aside and said: "Here are ten goldpieces,
tell me where the glass mountain is."
"I am a poor man," said the juggler, honestly, "and need these
goldpieces greatly; but I know nothing of the glass mountain."
"Nor in what country it is?" asked Yarmil, impatiently.
"I know that," answered the man. "It is in the east, but they say it
is very far off; and besides, they say that no one can go within
twenty miles of it."
Yarmil threw the ten goldpieces into the juggler's cap, and putting
spurs to his horse galloped off to the east. Many a time did the sun
rise and set before he reached the glass mountain. But what good did
it do him to go there? Around the mountain flowed an immensely great
river, and on the bridge which was across it stood on guard three very
fierce giants.
Yarmil's courage fell. That moment the white lady from the white
castle appeared suddenly before him and said: "Bind thy horse's hoofs
with thy coat, and go very carefully over the bridge. The giant who
stands on watch will see thee only when thou art in front of him, and
will start after thee; but throw behind this dust and nothing will
harm thee. Do the same for the second and third giant." She gave him
three packages of dust, and said: "Beyond the river is a mill in which
they give a witch to grind. Ask the miller for a night's lodging; he
will give it thee, and invite thee to supper. Towards the end of the
supper the cook will bring him a roast cock, and to that he will not
invite thee; he eats it all himself. The bones of it he leaves on the
plate and the cook must throw them under the wheel; but tell her to
hide them for thee. And when it will be midnight, go to the glass
mountain and put the bones before thee; but be careful to save one
till thou art on the summit, then throw that last one back over thy
head."
The moment the lady had finished, she disappeared. Yarmil sprang from
his horse, tore his coat into four pieces, and with them muffled the
feet of his horse; then he mounted and rode cautiously to the bridge.
The first giant was sitting with his back to him and dozing. Yarmil
passed him safely; but that moment the giant woke, and howled with a
terrible voice to him to come back. Here Yarmil threw the dust behind,
and that moment there was such darkness that it hid the giant
completely. The same happened with the second and third giant, and
Yarmil crossed the river safely. Not far off was the mill, and the
miller stood just on the threshold.
"What dost thou wish here?" growled he at Yarmil.
"Oh, grant me a night's lodging," said Yarmil; "I am a traveller from
distant lands."
"I'll give thee nothing," answered the miller, roughly, "for if I did
I should lose my place."
Yarmil begged again, and begged so long that the miller asked: "Whence
art thou?" Yarmil told him; and the miller, meditating awhile, said:
"Well, if thou art the son of so powerful a king, I will give thee a
night's lodging; for we are from the same country, and I knew thy
father very well."
Then he led him to a sitting-room; and since it was just dark, he
asked him to supper. Yarmil watched continually to see if the cock
would soon come to the table, and he had not long to wait. The miller
grew sullen, and without speaking a word ate the cock. Yarmil went
out, and pressing a few goldpieces into the hands of the cook, begged
her to hide the bones of the cock for him. The moment the cook saw the
goldpieces she was glad to agree.
When the miller had picked the cock he called the cook and ordered her
strictly to throw the bones under the wheel. The cook took the plate
and motioning as if she had thrown them into the water, put them very
adroitly into her apron; when all were asleep she gave them to Yarmil.
He waited quietly till the approach of midnight, then he went out
cautiously and made for the glass mountain with his horse. Full of
expectation he took out the first bone and put it on the mountain; and
behold! in a moment a step was made so that he could walk comfortably
on it, and so it happened with every bone. Yarmil was already at the
summit and only one bone remained to him; this he threw with all his
power over his head, and in a twinkle there was a pleasant highway
along which his horse ran after him with ease.
All wearied, Yarmil fell down at the castle, in which lived the
sorceress with the twelve princesses her daughters, and he soon fell
asleep. When he woke the sun was high in the heavens; and before he
could think what further to do, his own princess came to him.
"I told thee," said she, reproachfully, "to forget me; but thou didst
not obey."
"Hide me somewhere quickly from the sorceress; in the night we will
flee."
"Simple man!" said the princess smiling. "She knows long ago that thou
art here; rather go to her, but be polite beyond measure. At dinner,
rise after each dish and walk through the room, otherwise thou wilt
stay here for the ages."
Yarmil had to obey. When he came to the sorceress he bowed low before
her, and said: "Great mighty lady, I have come for my bride."
"I will give her to thee," smiled the sorceress, "but first thou must
serve me three years."
"I am glad to do everything thou mayest desire," said Yarmil bowing;
and the sorceress answered graciously, inviting him at once to the
table, to which just then one of the princesses brought the first
dish. Yarmil ate with a relish; but when he had finished, he said to
the sorceress: "Permit me, great mighty lady, to walk a little. I have
travelled so much that I fear my legs will lose their power."
"Oh, walk if it please thee," answered the sorceress, but her eyes
glittered with anger. And Yarmil did the same after each dish, and the
sorceress was ready to split from rage. Next day she gave him a wooden
axe and saw, and said: "Thou must clear all that forest over there, or
be the son of Death."
Yarmil took the axe and the saw, and went on. In the forest he threw
himself on the ground and thought of death; for such a stretch of
forest no man could clear alone, still less with such tools. At midday
his princess brought him dinner.
"Ah!" scolded she, "thou art not working diligently."
"Why trouble myself for nothing?" sighed Yarmil.
"Only be of good courage," said the princess, comforting him. "It is
not so bad to-day; it will be worse to-morrow."
Then she gave him dinner; and when Yarmil had eaten, he put his head
on her lap and fell asleep soundly. Then the princess took out of her
bosom some kind of powder, and muttering mysterious words she threw
it in the air. And wonder of wonders! in the twinkle of an eye
invisible hands began to fell the aged trees, cut, split, and pile, so
that in a short time the whole forest was felled.
Now Yarmil woke up, and hurried with the princess to the castle. The
sorceress praised him; she suppressed her rage with difficulty, and
said: "Thou hast worked out thy first year in order."
Next day the sorceress gave him a spade and a wheelbarrow, and said:
"Thou must carry away that mountain out there, or be the son of
Death."
Yarmil went with his tools to the hill, but when there he threw
himself on the ground, for a thousand men would not have been able to
carry off the hill in ten years. At midday his princess brought him
dinner, and said: "Oh, thou art working as diligently as yesterday!"
"I am," sighed Yarmil.
"Only be of good cheer," said the princess, comforting him. "To-day it
is not so bad; it will be worse to-morrow."
When Yarmil had eaten, he put his head on her lap and fell asleep. The
princess again threw into the air a powder of some kind, muttering
mysterious words; and straightway unseen hands began to work so
vigorously that in a short time the hill was carried away.
Then Yarmil woke up, and hurried to the sorceress to tell her he had
done what she had commanded. She flamed up in anger, but nevertheless
said: "Thou hast worked the second year of thy service in order."
Next day she gave him a tailor's thimble, and said: "Thou must bail
out that fish-pond, or be the son of Death."
Yarmil took the thimble and went. At the fish-pond, however, he threw
himself on the ground and waited for the princess. She came sooner
than usual; and when Yarmil, strengthened with food, had fallen asleep
with his head on her lap, she threw powder in the air, muttering
mysterious words. Soon the water began to disappear from the
fish-pond. Now she roused Yarmil, and said to him: "Draw thy sword,
and give good care. When all the water is gone from the pond the
sorceress will take the shape of a rain-storm, and try to destroy us;
but look well at the darkness, and where it is blackest strike there
with thy sword."
Yarmil promised to do so, and had barely drawn his sword when a black
darkness rushed from the castle,--but almost on the ground, so that
Yarmil could strike the blackest spot with ease. At that moment the
darkness turned into the sorceress, and Yarmil's sword stuck in her
heart. With fearful cursing, she fell to the earth and died. Yarmil
hurried to the castle with the princess, mounted his horse, and rushed
off at a swift gallop.
He had to travel far before he came to his father's castle; but to
make up, there was joy unspeakable at the happy meeting. The queen was
terrified when she saw them, and she had reason; for when Yarmil told
all to his father the king gave her to be burned without mercy.
When the feasting was over Yarmil set out with his wife on the journey
to their kingdom. When they came to the mouse-hole it was no longer a
mouse-hole, but a magnificent gate leading to a great city, in the
middle of which stood a golden castle on a hill; and in that city
there were multitudes of people everywhere, and in the castle throngs
of courtiers and servants, who greeted with mighty applause their
master and mistress, thanking Yarmil at the same time for their
liberation.
Now followed feasting, which lasted for eight whole days; and when the
feasting was over they all lived happily beyond measure, because the
royal pair were goodness itself.