just one chance for us. We must try to reach the priest's house over
yonder by Lake Enare. Once there, we shall be safe, for the King has no
power over Christians."
"Oh, make haste! make haste! dear reindeer!" cried Sampo, "and you shall
feed on golden oats, and out of a silver manger."
On sped the reindeer. As they entered the priest's house, the Mountain
King crossed the courtyard, and knocked at the door with such violence
that it is a wonder he did not knock the house down.
"Who is there?" called the priest from within.
[Illustration]
"It is I!" answered a thundering voice; "it is the mighty Mountain
King! Open the door! You have there a child, whom I claim as my prey."
"Wait a moment!" cried the priest. "Permit me to robe myself, in order
that I may give your Majesty a worthier reception."
"All right!" roared the King; "but be quick about it, or I may break
down your walls!" A moment later he raised his enormous foot for a kick,
yelling: "Are you not ready yet?"
Then the priest opened the door, and said solemnly, "Begone, King of
Night and Winter! Sampo Lappelill is under my protection, and he shall
never be yours!"
Upon this, the King flew into such a violent passion that he exploded in
a great storm of snow and wind. The flakes fell and fell, until the snow
reached the roof of the priest's house, so that every one inside it
expected to be buried alive. But as soon as the sun rose, the snow began
to melt, and all was well. The Mountain King had completely vanished,
and no one knows exactly what became of him, although some think that he
is still reigning on Rastekais.
Sampo thanked the priest heartily for his kindness, and begged, as an
additional favour, the loan of a sledge. To this sledge the boy
harnessed the golden-antlered reindeer, and drove home to his parents,
who were exceedingly glad to see him.
How Sampo became a great man, who fed his reindeer with golden oats out
of a silver manger, is too lengthy a story to tell now.
The Witch-Dancer's Doom.
[Illustration]
THE WITCH-DANCER'S DOOM.
A BRETON LEGEND.
I.
LONG, long ago, in the days of good King Arthur, Count Morriss dwelt in
the old chateau of La Roche Morice, near Landerneau, in Brittany. With
him lived his beautiful niece, Katel. Although charming in face and
figure, this maiden had a somewhat uncanny reputation. For it was
said--and with reason--that she was a witch.
The Count had often urged Katel to marry, but in vain. The lady had no
mind to lose her freedom. Dancing was the one passion of her life.
"When," said she, "I can find a knight who shall be able to dance
continuously with me for twelve hours, with no break, to him I promise
to give my hand!"
This scornful challenge was proclaimed by heralds in every neighbouring
town and hamlet. In response came many wooers to attempt the impossible
task. Those whom Katel favoured she made her partners at the rustic
fetes and open-air dances which were then in vogue. In the soft-swarded
meadows, by sunlight or starlight, the dancers would meet, and, to the
dreamy music of the pipes, eager couples would whirl until the hills
around began to blush in the light of the early dawn. The wildest,
giddiest, yet most graceful of the throng was Katel, who danced madly on
until one by one her partners sank fainting upon the ground, and death
released them from the heartless sorceress who had lured them into her
toils.
Thus perished many suitors, until the cruel maiden became an object of
general hatred and horror. When her doings came to the ears of the
Count, he sternly forbade her to attend any more of the dances. In order
to enforce her obedience, he shut her up in a tower, where, said he, she
was to remain until she should choose a husband from among such suitors
as still persisted in offering her marriage.
Now, Katel had a wizened little page, no bigger than a leveret, and as
black as a raven's wing. This creature she summoned to her one morning
before dawn, and, with her finger at her lips, she said to him: "Be
swift and silent! My uncle still slumbers. Get thee gone by the ladder,
and his thee to the castle of Salauen, who is waiting for a message from
her he loves. The guards will allow thee to pass; take horse, ride like
the wind, and tell Salauen that Katel calls him to deliver her from this
tower before the day dawns."
[Illustration: "KATEL TURNED COLDLY AWAY" (_p._ 57).]
The infatuated young knight obeyed the summons immediately. In an
hour's time he was assisting the lady to mount his horse, after having
got her in safety down the rope-ladder. As, from the window of the
donjon, the dwarf watched them ride away, he chuckled to himself:
"Ha! ha! And so they are off to the great ball held to-day in the
Martyrs' Meadow! Ah, my dear Salauen! before another sun shall rise your
death-knell will be tolled!"
II.
When Katel and her gallant cavalier arrived at the Martyrs' Meadow, they
excited general surprise and admiration. Some, however, shook their
heads forebodingly, as they heard that Salauen, now Katel's affianced
lover, was to be her partner, for they knew that the brave young knight
must needs fall a victim to her spell.
The ball began. Some of the most skilful pipers in the land had been
engaged for the occasion, and they played gavottes, rondes, courantes,
and many other dances, without intermission. But Katel waited until
night came and the torches were lit. Then she took Salauen's hand and
they began to dance together.
"Round again! Once more! Ha! ha!" laughed the witch-maiden, as they spun
along. "What! are you tired already? Do you give in so soon as this?"
"Never--while I am with _you_!" was the fervent reply. The fatal spell
had begun to work.
Thus on they whirled, yet more swiftly than before, so that the other
dancers stood aside to watch them. After a time, however, Katel observed
that her partner was gradually becoming weaker, and that he would soon
be unable to keep pace with her.
"Courage!" exclaimed she, in a bantering tone. "We cannot stop yet; it
wants but a very short time to midnight, and then I shall be yours!"
Salauen, although almost exhausted, strained every nerve and muscle in a
frantic, final effort to continue the dance. Round the field they flew,
at lightning speed; but it was for the last time. The knight's knees
shook--his breath came more quickly--then with difficulty he gasped out
the words:
"Oh, Katel! have mercy! I can do no more! Katel, my love, have I not won
you yet?"
But as he sank lifeless upon the grass Katel turned coldly away. His
fate was nothing to her. At that moment the clock in a neighbouring
tower struck twelve. All the lights flickered and expired; darkness
reigned supreme. And through the darkness, shrilling high above every
other sound, rang the mocking laugh of the impish dwarf.
III.
"What!" exclaimed Katel derisively, glancing angrily at the worn-out
pipers, who had at last paused in their wild music, "exhausted already
by such slight exertions? I wish the Evil One would send me some
musicians and dancers worthy of me! Of what use are these miserable,
puny creatures?"
As she uttered the words, stamping her foot in her fury, a weird, red
light gleamed in the sky; there was a terrible peal of thunder, and a
strange stir in the trees. Then suddenly, in the centre of the field,
appeared two phantom forms, at the sight of whom the panic-stricken
by-standers would fain have fled. To their horror, however, they found
flight impossible; they were rooted to the spot!
One of the phantoms was attired in a red garment, covered with a black
cloak. Beneath his arm he held a large double pipe, coiled around which
were five hissing, writhing serpents. The other stranger, who was
exceedingly tall, was dressed in a tightly fitting black suit, and
heavy, red mantle, while upon his head waved an imposing tuft of
vultures' plumes.
The ghostly piper began at once to play an unearthly dance-tune, so wild
and maddening that it made all the hearers tremble. His tall, grim
companion seized Katel by the waist, and the couple whirled round to the
mad measure, which grew ever faster and more furious. In an instant the
torches were relit. A few others joined in the dance; not for long,
however. Katel and her phantom were soon the only dancers. Shriller
still shrieked the pipes, faster yet grew the music, more and more
swiftly spun the feet. Ere long the witch-maiden felt that her strength
was deserting her; the torches swam before her eyes, and, in the last
extremity of terror, she struggled to release herself from the iron grip
which held her so relentlessly.
"What! so soon tired?" cried the spectre, jeering at her. "Do you give
in so soon as this? Come! round once more! Ha! ha!"
[Illustration: "THE COUPLE WHIRLED ROUND TO THE MAD MEASURE" (_p._ 58).]
Thus was Katel treated as she had treated others. She had no breath
left wherewith to answer; her last hour had come. She made one more
wild, despairing bound, then fell to the ground in the throes of death.
At the same moment, the phantoms vanished. There was a vivid
lightning-blaze, a terrific crash of thunder; then fell black darkness
hiding everything. A tempestuous wind arose, and rain fell in torrents.
* * * * *
When the storm had cleared, and the morning sun shone out, those who
found courage to visit the spot beheld the forms of Katel and her lover
Salauen lying dead upon the shrivelled turf.
Ever since that time, the spot has been shunned by all, and still, by
their firesides on the winter nights, the peasants tell the tale of
Katel, the witch-dancer, and her fearful fate.
The Three Valleys.
[Illustration]
THE THREE VALLEYS.
From the German.
IN olden days there lived a Count, who had many castles and estates, and
a most beautiful daughter, but no one would associate with him, for it
was rumoured he was in league with the Evil One; indeed, from time to
time one or other of his servants most mysteriously disappeared.
The last who disappeared was the shepherd. One evening he did not return
to the castle. Search was made for him throughout the village, but in
vain; no trace of him could be found. After this no one would enter the
Count's service as shepherd; but at last, a bold, handsome youth
presented himself; he had travelled far as a soldier, and cared nothing
for evil spirits. The Count immediately engaged him, and said he could
take the sheep to feed wherever he liked, only he must never go into the
three valleys to the east of the castle. For a time all went well; the
young man drove the sheep into the rich meadows around the castle as
his master had ordered, and led a very comfortable life. But he was
always thinking of the three valleys, and being a brave youth who did
not fear evil spirits, he one day took the cross-bow and bolts he had
used when soldiering, put a new string to his bow, and said, as he
struck his rusty spear against the ground:
"I will see who will venture to harm me in the three valleys; it will
fare badly with him, I think."
Going towards the east, he soon arrived with his sheep in the first
valley, where he found beautiful meadows in which he could safely leave
his flock. He looked carefully around, but, except the butterflies
fluttering to and fro, and the humming of the bees, there was neither
sound nor movement. Then he sat down beneath an oak and began to play on
his pipe; suddenly, in the wood near, arose a crashing and cracking as
if some mighty animal were breaking through the bushes, and, before our
shepherd could fix a bolt in his cross-bow, a powerful giant stood
before him and cried:
"What are you doing here with your grass-eaters, destroying my meadows,
you insolent fellow? You shall answer for this."
[Illustration: "A WELL-DIRECTED THRUST SOON QUIETED HIM" (_p._ 67).]
He did not wait for an answer, but threw his spear with fearful force at
the shepherd, who saved himself by springing behind the oak, into which
the spear sank so deep that the point stuck out on the other side. Then,
fixing a bolt into his cross-bow, the shepherd took aim, and struck the
giant so skilfully in the centre of the forehead that he fell with a
deep groan to the earth. Before he had time to rise, the shepherd
bounded forward and ran his spear through his adversary's neck, nailing
him to the ground, and his spirit soon fled. The shepherd took the
giant's sword and armour, and was about to return home, when in an
opening of the forest he saw a stately castle. The doors were wide open;
he entered. In the spacious hall stood a stone table on which was a cup
covered with a silver plate bearing these words:--
Who drinks of this cup
Shall overcome the Evil One.
The young man had no confidence in the words or the drink, and left the
cup untouched. He laid the dead giant's armour in the hall; then, taking
the key of the door with him, he returned home with his flock, and went
to rest without mentioning his adventure to any one. The next day he
tended his sheep on the mountain slopes surrounding the castle, but the
second day he could not rest; so, girding on the sword he had taken from
the dead giant, he started with his flock for the second valley, in
hopes of fresh adventure. Here also were beautiful pastures, if possible
richer and more luxuriant than in the first valley; the flowers breathed
forth their fragrance, the birds sang sweetly, and through the meadows
meandered a stream clear as crystal, by whose bank the shepherd lay down
to rest. He was just thinking that all adventure and danger were past
when an enormous block of rock fell on the ground near him, and a voice
rough and wild, like that of a bear, said: "What are you doing here with
your grass-eaters, you insolent fellow?" And from behind a wall of rock
stepped a mighty giant, brandishing a ponderous stone club. He aimed a
blow at the shepherd, who ducked behind the rock which the giant had
thrown as his first greeting, and the club descending on the stone, it
broke in pieces from the force of the blow.
Quick as lightning the youth drew his sword, and with one stroke cut
through the sinews in the bend of the giant's knee, who fell to the
earth with a loud roar. He struck out wildly with his fists, but a
well-directed thrust through the heart soon quieted him. The shepherd
left him lying there, and turned towards the wall of rock; here he found
a massive door concealed amongst the thicket. Through this he passed,
and entered a hall-like cavern, in which, at a stone manger, stood a
snow-white horse ready saddled, and over the manger was engraved this
saying:--
Who springs on this white horse
Shall overcome the Evil One.
Now, the shepherd thought: "I am strong enough to take care of myself,
and I do not want to overcome the Evil One, he has always left me in
peace; but I will remember that here stands a fine horse on which I can
ride forth into the wide world." He threw fresh oats into the manger,
shut the door, and returned home. The next few days he remained very
quiet, lest his movements might have been observed; then, as no one
questioned him, he one fine morning drove his sheep into the third
valley. Beautiful meadows glittered in the sunshine; from a hill of rock
a waterfall plashed down, forming a small sea in which sported
innumerable fish. The shepherd looked carefully around, searched under
every bush, but found nothing. No sound was heard save the continued
plash, plash, of the cool water. The day was very sultry, and the
shepherd was just preparing for a bathe in the fresh, clear water, when
from out a ravine near the sea appeared a horrible human head, with one
eye, as large as a plate, in the centre of the forehead, and a voice
loud as the roll of thunder shouted: "What do you want here, you
insolent earth-worm?"
The head rose higher and higher, until a giant as high as a tower stood
before the shepherd, who with a sure aim sent his lance into the eye of
his adversary. The monster, thus blinded, groped wildly about with his
hands, in hopes to strangle his enemy, but he only seized an oak, which
he tore up by the roots and threw it high into the air. Now the victory
was easy, for though the giant could no longer be hurt by cuts and
thrusts, which slipped off from his body as from a mossy stone, the
shepherd soon found other means. He mocked and insulted the blind giant,
and by the sound of his voice drew him ever nearer and nearer to the
sea, at the side where the cliff overhung the water. At last he sprang
for a moment on the edge of the precipice, and gave a loud, mocking cry,
then silently concealed himself behind a tree. The giant, deceived by
the shout, pursued him eagerly, lost his footing, and fell heavily into
the sea.
Then the shepherd went down into the ravine from which the monster had
appeared. Here lay a meadow full of beautiful flowers, in the midst of
which rose a spacious mansion, built of the trunks of trees. The
shepherd entered the hall and saw a mighty spear, on whose shaft these
words were cut:--
Who throws this lance
Shall overcome the Evil One.
He seized the spear, but his arms were too weak to raise it, and he
wearily laid the mighty weapon back in the corner; at the same time he
thought, since he had conquered three giants, he could surely overcome
the Evil One without this lance. As the day drew to a close he gathered
his sheep together and returned to the castle. Arrived there, he was
immediately summoned before the Count, who asked him angrily where he
had been. The shepherd then truthfully related all that had happened in
the three valleys, and how he had that day slain the giant as tall as a
tower.
[Illustration: "'WHAT DO YOU WANT HERE?'" (_p._ 68).]
"Woe to you and to me," replied the Count, with pale lips. "I heard the
giants' cries of rage, and hoped you were paying for your disobedience
with your life. But it has happened otherwise, and now I and my daughter
must suffer because you, you insolent fellow, disobeyed my commands and
entered the giants' territories; for it has been made known to me that
to-morrow the mighty lord of the giants, the Prince of the Infernal
Regions, will appear, and demand my daughter or me as a sacrifice; but
before that you, you miserable fellow, shall suffer all the agonies of
torture, as a punishment for bringing me into this trouble.
"Seize him!" he cried to the servants who were standing in the
entrance-hall. His command was at once obeyed, when the Count's
daughter, who had listened with glowing cheeks to the shepherd's story,
threw herself on her knees and implored for delay.
"Dearest father," she cried, "should you not rather endeavour to make
use of this brave youth for our deliverance than put him to the torture?
He has overcome three giants; surely he will be able to vanquish the
Prince of the Infernal Regions."
[Illustration: "SHE IMPLORED FOR DELAY" (_p._ 70).]
The Count remained for a few moments in deep thought, and then
acknowledged that his daughter's suggestion was both good and clever. He
asked the shepherd if he were willing to expiate his crime by a combat
with the Evil One, and the young man, with a grateful look at his
deliverer, at once agreed. With the first dawn of morning he rose from
his couch, for he now recalled the words about overcoming the Evil
One, and hastened to the first valley, where in the castle stood the
cup with the inscription:--
Who drinks of this cup
Shall overcome the Evil One.
He seized the cup and emptied it at one draught, and--wonderful--the
magic draught flowed through his veins like fire, and he felt courage
and strength enough to combat a whole army. With sparkling eyes he
hastened to the second valley, mounted the white horse, who greeted him
with a joyful neigh, and then galloped as if in flight to the third
valley, in which stood the mighty lance. Yesterday he could scarcely
move it; to-day, with one hand, he swung it high over his head, as if it
had been a small arrow.
By sunrise he was again at the Count's castle, waiting eagerly for what
would happen, but the day passed and no one appeared. The sun had sunk
to rest, and the moon had just risen in all her splendour, when in the
north of the heavens was seen what appeared to be a dark storm-cloud.
With the speed of lightning it approached the castle, and a voice, as of
a bassoon, sounded from out the cloud: "Where are my propitiatory
sacrifices?" At the same time a gigantic eagle, with greenish-grey
wings, like the storm-cloud, hovered high over the castle, ready to
swoop down on his prey. Then the young man set spurs into his white
horse, and shaking his lance high above his head, cried with a loud
voice: "There are no sacrifices here for you, you robber! Begone
instantly, or you shall feel my arrows!" On hearing these words, the
eagle swooped down with a wild cry, before the shepherd could take his
cross-bow, and the young man would certainly have perished had it not
been for his presence of mind and the strength and activity of his
steed. A touch with the spur, and it flew swift as the wind under a very
old and thickly leaved linden tree, whose branches hung down almost to
the ground, so that the eagle could only break in through the side.
[Illustration: "The eagle swooped down with a wild cry." _page 72_]
This the bird at once attempted, and it caused his death, for his
outspread wings became entangled in the branches, and the brave rider,
with one powerful blow of his sword, severed the head from the body.
But, oh, horror! instead of blood there came forth from the headless
body of the eagle a huge serpent, who, with wide-open jaws, approached
the shepherd and tried to enfold him in the rings of its flexible body.
By a skilful movement, it encircled the horse and rider, and crushed
them until the young man thought he should be forced into the body of
his steed; but the horse pressed himself so close against the tree that
the head of the serpent came round on the other side of the trunk, and
thus it was hindered from harming the shepherd with its poisonous bite
or breath. One stroke of the shepherd's sharp dagger, and the body of
the serpent fell in two pieces to the ground; the horse immediately
trampled on the head. But the hinder part of the serpent swelled and
swelled, the cut became a frightful mouth, which spurted out smoke and
flames, while from the rings of the serpent's body grew forth claws and
wings, and at last a horrible monster in the form of a dragon threw
itself on the shepherd, whose strength had already begun to fail
through the dreadful pressing of the serpent. But in his greatest need a
saving thought occurred to him--he turned his horse round: it broke
through the branches of the linden tree into the open field, and sped
with its rider to the nearest stream, in whose waters they both cooled
themselves. The dragon snorted after them, spitting forth fire and
smoke. But as the head of the serpent, from whose body the dragon had
grown, had been destroyed, there was no deadly poison in its breath, and
the rider was safe from the flames through bathing in the stream. So he
rode boldly towards the approaching dragon with lance in rest, and tried
to approach it from the side; but all his blows glanced off from its
scaly body as from a coat of mail. Suddenly it occurred to him to thrust
his lance down the monster's throat. He turned his horse and spurred him
straight towards the dragon, and thrusting his lance through the smoke
and flame, stuck it right into the creature's throat. He was obliged to
leave his lance, for his horse, singed by the fiery breath of the
dragon, bounded far to one side; but the monster did not attempt to
follow them, the lance had stuck deep into its body. It struck wildly
with its tail on the ground, until the earth burst, then it shivered and
fell over, first on its side, then on its back, a stream of fire poured
forth from its wide-open jaws, and with the flames its life passed away.
Thus was the combat ended and the Evil One subdued. Joyfully the
shepherd rode back to the Count and his daughter, and told them all that
had happened. The Count, embracing him, said: "You are our deliverer,
to you I owe my life and all that I possess: take the half of whatever
is mine, or choose from it whatever pleases you."
[Illustration: "WITH THE FLAMES ITS LIFE PASSED AWAY" (_p._ 74).]
The shepherd gazed earnestly into the eyes of the Count's lovely
daughter, and replied:
"I know of nothing, Sir Count, in the whole world which is dearer to me
than your daughter. Give her to me for my wife, if she be willing."