THE BLACK VALLEY
The Black Valley was a gloomy place. Fir-trees grew tall and dark on
the banks of the stream, casting strange shadows on the sunny waters.
As the knight entered the valley, evening had fallen and the stream
rushed, dark and sullen, between the rocks.
Huldbrand glanced anxiously from side to side, but no trace could be
found of the maiden whom he sought. He began to fear lest already she
were in peril, and thinking thus he urged his horse yet further into
the valley.
Peering through the bushes as he rode, he at length caught sight of
something white lying on the ground. Had he found Bertalda at last?
He spurred his horse onward toward the white gleam which had caught
his eye, but the animal no sooner saw the object which had gladdened
his master's eye than it started violently and refused to move. Then
the knight dismounted, and tying his now rearing steed to an elm, he
pushed his way on foot through the brushwood.
Thunder began to rumble around the mountains, and the evening dew fell
cold and damp on the anxious knight.
He could still see the white figure lying on the ground, but as he
drew nearer to it a strange dread struck at Huldbrand's heart.
'Was Bertalda asleep,' he wondered, 'or did she lie there unconscious,
perchance even dead?'
He was close to her now, bending over her. She never stirred. He
rustled the branches, rattled his sword. Still she lay there quiet,
motionless. He called her by her name, 'Bertalda!' but no voice
answered him. He called again, more loud, 'Bertalda!' but only a
sorrowful echo answered his cry.
Then the knight bent nearer yet to the maiden, but darkness hid the
face on which he longed to gaze.
Suddenly the whole valley was bright as at mid-day. A vivid flash of
lightning showed to Huldbrand the face over which he bent.
It was a terrible face. And a voice, awful as the face, rang out harsh
and hollow.
With a cry of terror the knight sprang away from the horrid vision.
But was it a vision? Huldbrand knew that it was creeping after him,
and he could catch some muttered words. 'Get you gone, get you gone,'
he heard, 'there are evil spirits abroad. Get you gone, or I shall
seize you and hold you fast,' and the white figure stretched out his
bony arms to catch him. Ah! now the knight knew who it was that had
given him so cruel a fright. It was none other than Kühleborn, the
malicious water spirit.
Seizing his sword, Huldbrand struck fiercely at the white figure, only
however to see it vanish, while a heavy shower of water drenched him
from head to foot.
'He may wish to drive me away, but he shall not succeed in doing so,'
murmured the knight. 'Bertalda shall not be left to the vengeance of
this evil spirit.'
Huldbrand now turned back to go to his horse, but ere he reached the
animal, he heard in the distance a sound of weeping. It reached his
ears even though the thunder still rolled and the wind still blew. He
hastened towards the spot from which the sound seemed to come. There,
on the hillside, trying to climb up out of the darkness of the valley,
he found Bertalda.
The maiden was too glad to see Huldbrand to remember how but lately he
had angered her. She clung to him, calling him her deliverer, her
knight, for to her too the valley had been full of horrible forms and
strange visions.
Soothing her with kind words, Huldbrand led the maiden toward his
horse.
But no sooner did the animal see his master approach with Bertalda on
his arm than it began to rear, beating the air madly with its
forefeet.
It was not possible to mount Bertalda, and the knight soon gave up the
attempt. He drew the horse gently forward by the bridle, while with
his other arm he supported the fearful maiden.
But Bertalda, though she was anxious to escape from the dark valley,
could walk but slowly, and at each step her strength grew less. For
Kühleborn had played her many pranks ere she had been found. The storm
also had bruised her slender form.
At length she slipped from the knight's arm, and falling on the grass,
she sighed, 'Leave me, noble knight, leave me to suffer the punishment
I deserve.'
'I will never leave you, dear Bertalda,' cried the knight. As he
spoke, the steed began to plunge even more furiously than before. It
was impossible for Huldbrand to control the animal. All he could do
was to force it away a few paces from where the maiden lay, for he
feared lest the horse should trample her to death.
He had gone but a few steps when he heard her calling to him,
'Huldbrand, Huldbrand, leave me not alone,' for already all her
courage had faded away.
As he hesitated, the knight heard the wheels of a wagon rumble slowly
over the rough road that led through the valley. He at once called to
the driver to come to his help. A man's voice called back quickly,
'Have but patience, and I will come.'
Soon afterwards Huldbrand saw two white horses appear through the
trees. Then a wagon covered with a great white hood was to be seen,
and last of all the driver, who was dressed in a white carter's frock.
The driver drew near to the knight and tried to help him to quiet his
frightened steed.
'Do you know, Sir Knight, why your good horse shivers thus?' asked the
carter, 'for if not I can tell you. A bad water spirit dwells in this
valley, and often he would bewitch my horses when first I ventured
through it. But now I have learned a little spell. If you wish it, I
will whisper it in the ear of your steed, and he will stand steady as
my greys.'
'You may try your spell,' said the knight, 'though I fear that it will
be of but little use.'
Then the driver of the wagon went quietly up to the panting steed, and
said a few words to it. At once the horse stood still, without a trace
of the fear which had made it so restless and unmanageable.
Huldbrand had no time to wonder what the wagoner had said to his
horse. He was too eager to get Bertalda out of the valley to think of
anything else.
'My wagon will take the fair lady safely back to Ringstetten,' said
the wagoner. 'She may sit in it in comfort, for it is filled with bags
of the softest cotton.'
The knight was glad to accept this offer, and as his horse, though
quiet, was tired and weary, Huldbrand himself was easily persuaded
that he also should ride in the wagon with Bertalda, while his steed
was fastened behind.
'It is well,' said the wagoner, 'that the road is downhill. My trusty
greys will step out bravely.'
Thus they started, the driver walking by the side of his wagon.
And Bertalda and the knight did not heed the jolting of the wagon, as
they sat side by side on the soft bags of cotton.
Suddenly they were startled by a loud shout from the driver.
'Steady, now, my trusty greys, steady, lest you fall.'
Already the wagon was in the midst of a stream of rushing water, and
it seemed as though the horses must be carried off their feet. The
wagoner had sprung into the wagon untouched by the swirling waters.
'This is a strange way by which to drive us,' said Huldbrand to the
wagoner. 'It seems to go right into the middle of the stream.'
'Nay, now, Sir Knight,' laughed the driver, 'if you look again, you
will see that it is the stream which is rushing across our path. See,
it has overflowed its banks.'
The knight looked and saw that the whole valley was being rapidly
flooded. Then, all at once, he knew that this was Kühleborn's doing.
'It is Kühleborn,' he cried aloud, 'Kühleborn the water spirit, who is
doing his utmost to drown us. Do you not know a spell against his
power?'
'Yea, by my troth I know a spell,' answered the wagoner, 'but ere I
use it, I must tell you who I am.'
'I care not who you may be,' shouted the angry knight. 'See you not
that there is no time to lose. The water is rising rapidly.'
'Nevertheless,' answered the man,' you shall hear my name, for I am
Kühleborn!'
He laughed a mocking laugh, and at that moment the wagon seemed to
disappear, and Bertalda and the knight were struggling in the flood.
Above them rose the wagoner, who was indeed, as he had said,
Kühleborn. Taller and taller he towered above them, until he seemed at
last to change into a great white wave.
With horror-stricken eyes the maiden and the knight saw the wave swoop
down upon the noble steed, which had been vainly struggling in the
water. Then slowly once more the wave reared itself higher and higher
yet above the heads of the two who watched and waited until they too
should be for ever buried beneath the waters.
But ere the great white wave rolled down upon them, they were saved.
Through the tumult of the waters a sweet voice floated to Bertalda and
the knight. Then, as the moon broke through the clouds, they saw
Undine on a hill looking down into the valley.
She rebuked the waters, she even threatened the vast wave that towered
above Bertalda and the knight, until muttering gloomily it vanished
from their sight.
As the waters ran more quietly through the valley, Undine flew to them
swiftly as a bird and drew them up out of reach of the water. Bidding
them rest a while, for they were weary, she went a little way off to
fetch her white palfrey. Then, telling the knight to place Bertalda on
the saddle, she led them safely back to the castle.