they were the women of the village, and the girls of her own age. But
the dog was well aware that there was something uncanny about it all.
He made his way down to Melbustad in flying leaps, and howled and barked
in the most lamentable manner, and gave the people no rest until they
followed him. The young fellow who was to marry the girl took his gun,
and climbed the hills; and when he drew near, there stood a number of
horses around the hut, saddled and bridled. He crept up to the hut,
looked through a loop-hole in the wall, and saw a whole company sitting
together inside. It was quite evident that they were trolls, the people
from underground, and therefore he discharged his gun over the roof. At
that moment the doors flew open, and a number of balls of gray yarn, one
larger than the other, came shooting out about his legs. When he went
in, there sat the maiden in her bridal finery, and nothing was missing
but the ring on her little finger, then all would have been complete.
"In heaven's name, what has happened here?" he asked, as he looked
around. All the silverware was still on the table, but all the tasty
dishes had turned to moss and toadstools, and frogs and toads and the
like.
"What does it all mean?" said he. "You are sitting here in all your
glory, just like a bride?"
"How can you ask me?" answered the maiden. "You have been sitting here
yourself, and talking about our wedding the whole afternoon!"
"No, I have just come," said he. "It must have been some one else who
had taken my shape!"
Then she gradually came to her senses; but not until long afterward was
she altogether herself, and she told how she had firmly believed that
her sweetheart himself, and all their friends and relatives had been
there. He took her straight back to the village with him, and so that
they need fear no such deviltry in the future, they celebrated their
wedding while she was still clad in the bridal outfit of the underground
folk. The crown and all the ornaments were hung up in Melbustad and it
is said that they hang there to this very day.
NOTE
Black jugglery and deception are practiced upon the poor
dairy-maid in "The Troll Wedding" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I,
p. 50. From Hadeland, told by a _Signekjarring_, a kind of wise
woman or herb doctress). Characteristic is the belief that troll
magic and witchery may be nullified if a gun be fired over the
place where it is supposed to be taking place. Then all reverts to
its original form. Curious, also, is the belief that trolls like
to turn into skeins of yarn when disturbed, and then roll swiftly
away.
IX
THE HAT OF THE _HULDRES_
Once upon a time there was a big wedding at a certain farmstead, and a
certain cottager was on his way to the wedding-feast. As he chanced to
cross a field, he found a milk-strainer, such as are usually made of
cows' tails, and looking just like an old brown rag. He picked it up,
for he thought it could be washed, and then he would give it to his
wife for a dish-rag. But when he came to the house where they were
celebrating the wedding, it seemed as though no one saw him. The bride
and groom nodded to the rest of the guests, they spoke to them and
poured for them; but he got neither greeting nor drink. Then the chief
cook came and asked the other folk to sit down to the table; but he was
not asked, nor did he get anything to eat. For he did not care to sit
down of his own accord when no one had asked him. At last he grew angry
and thought: "I might as well go home, for not a soul pays a bit of
attention to me here." When he reached home, he said: "Good evening,
here I am back again."
"For heaven's sake, are you back again?" asked his wife.
"Yes, there was no one there who paid any attention to me, or even so
much as looked at me," said the man, "and when people show me so little
consideration, it seems as though I have nothing to look for there."
"But where are you? I can hear you, but I cannot see you!" cried his
wife.
The man was invisible, for what he had found was a _huldre_ hat.
"What are you talking about? Can't you see me? Have you lost your wits?"
asked the man. "There is an old hair strainer for you. I found it
outside on the ground," said he, and he threw it on the bench. And
then his wife saw him; but at the same moment the hat of the _huldres_
disappeared, for he should only have loaned it, not given it away.
Now the man saw how everything had come about, and went back to the
wedding-feast. And this time he was received in right friendly fashion,
and was asked to drink, and to seat himself at the table.
NOTE
A favorite jewel among the treasures of the underground world
plays the leading part of the tale: "The Hat of the _Huldres_"
(Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 157; from the vicinity of
Eidsvold, told by an old peasant woman). Often appearing in
legend proper as the tarn-cap, it here finds a more humble place
in everyday life, neither ennobled by legendary dignity, nor
diversified by the rich incident of fairy-tale. The entertaining
picture here afforded of its powers shows them all the more
clearly.
X
THE CHILD OF MARY
Far, far from here, in a great forest, there once lived a poor couple.
Heaven blessed them with a charming little daughter; but they were so
poor they did not know how they were going to get her christened. So her
father had to go forth to see whether he could not find a god-father
to pay for the child's christening. All day long he went from one to
another; but no one wanted to be the god-father. Toward evening, as he
was going home, he met a very lovely lady, who wore the most splendid
clothes, and seemed most kind and friendly, and she offered to see that
the child was christened, if she might be allowed to keep it afterward.
The man replied that first he must ask his wife. But when he reached
home and asked her she gave him a flat "no." The following day the man
set out again; but no one wanted to be the god-father if he had to pay
for the christening himself, and no matter how hard the man begged, it
was all of no avail. When he went home that evening, he again met the
lovely lady, who looked so gentle, and she made him the same offer as
before. The man again told his wife what had happened to him, and added
that if he could not find a god-father for his child the following day,
they would probably have to let the lady take her, since she seemed to
be so kind and friendly. The man then went out for the third time, and
found no god-father that day. And so, when he once more met the friendly
lady in the evening, he promised to let her have the child, if she would
see that it was baptized. The following morning the lady came to the
man's hut, and with her two other men. She then took the child and went
to church with it, and it was baptized. Then she took it with her,
and the little girl remained with her for several years, and her
foster-mother was always good and kind to her.
Now when the girl had grown old enough to make distinctions, and had
acquired some sense, it chanced that her foster-mother once wished to
take a journey. "You may go into any room you wish," she said to the
girl, "only you are not to go into these three rooms," and then she set
out on her journey. But the girl could not resist opening the door
to the one room a little way--and swish! out flew a star. When her
foster-mother came home, she was much grieved to find that the star had
flown out, and was so annoyed with her foster-child that she threatened
to send her away. But the girl pleaded and cried, until at last she was
allowed to remain.
After a time the foster-mother wanted to take another journey, and she
forbade the girl, above all, to go into the two rooms which, as yet, she
had not entered. And the girl promised her that this time she would obey
her. But when she had been alone for some time, and had had all sorts
of thoughts as to what there might be in the second room, she could no
longer resist opening the second door a little way--and swish! out flew
the moon. When the foster-mother returned, and saw the moon had slipped
out, she again grieved greatly, and told the girl she could keep her no
longer, and that now she must go. But when the girl again began to cry
bitterly, and pleaded with such grace that it was impossible to deny
her, she was once more allowed to remain.
After this the foster-mother wished to take another journey, and she
told the girl, who was now more than half-grown, that she must take
her request not to go, or even so much as peep into the third room,
seriously to heart. But when the foster-mother had been away for some
time, and the girl was all alone and bored, she could at last resist no
longer. "O," thought she, "how pleasant it would be to take a peep into
that third room!" It is true, that at first she thought she would not do
it, because of her foster-mother; yet when the thought returned to her,
she could not hold back, after all; but decided that she should and
must by all means take a peep. So she opened the door the least little
bit--and swish! out flew the sun. When the foster-mother then returned,
and saw that the sun had flown out, she grieved greatly, and told
the girl that now she could positively stay with her no longer. The
foster-daughter cried and pleaded even more touchingly than before; but
all to no avail. "No, I must now punish you," said the foster-mother.
"But you shall have your choice of either becoming the most beautiful
of all maidens, without the power of speech, or the most homely, yet
able to talk. But you must leave this place." The girl said: "Then I
would rather be the most beautiful of maidens without the power of
speech"--and such she became, but from that time on she was dumb.
Now when the girl had left her foster-mother, and had wandered for a
time, she came to a large, large wood, and no matter how far she went
she could not reach its end. When evening came, she climbed into a high
tree that stood over a spring, and sat down in its branches to sleep.
Not far from it stood a king's castle, and early the next morning a
serving-maid came from it, to get water from the spring for the prince's
tea. And when the serving-maid saw the lovely face in the spring, she
thought it was her own. At once she threw down her pail and ran back
home holding her head high, and saying: "If I am as beautiful as all
that, I am too good to carry water in a pail!" Then another was sent to
fetch water, but the same thing happened with her; she, too, came back
and said she was far too handsome and too good to go to the spring and
fetch water for the prince. Then the prince went himself, for he wanted
to see what it all meant. And when he came to the spring, he also saw
the picture, and at once looked up into the tree. And so he saw the
lovely maiden who was seated among its branches. He coaxed her down,
took her back home with him, and nothing would do but that she must be
his bride, because she was so beautiful. But his mother, who was still
living, objected: "She cannot speak," said she, "and, maybe, she
belongs to the troll-folk." But the prince would not be satisfied until
he had won her. When, after a time, heaven bestowed a child upon the
queen, the prince set a strong guard about her. But suddenly they all
fell asleep, and her foster-mother came, cut the child's little finger,
rubbed some of the blood over the mouth and hands of the queen, and
said: "Now you shall grieve just as I did when you let the star slip
out!" And with that she disappeared with the child. When those whom the
prince had set to keep guard opened their eyes again, they thought that
the queen had devoured her child, and the old queen wanted to have her
burned; but the prince loved her so very tenderly, that after much
pleading he succeeded in having her saved from punishment, though only
with the greatest difficulty.
[Illustration: "AND SO HE SAW THE LOVELY MAIDEN WHO WAS SEATED AMONG
ITS BRANCHES."
--_Page 59_]
When heaven gave her a second child, a guard of twice as many men as had
first stood watch was again set about her; yet everything happened as
before, only that this time the foster-mother said to her: "Now you
shall grieve as I did when you let the moon slip out!" The queen wept
and pleaded--for when the foster-mother was there she could speak--but
without avail. Now the old queen insisted that she be burned. But the
prince once more succeeded in begging her free. When heaven gave her a
third child, a three-fold guard was set about her. The foster-mother
came while the guard slept, took the child, cut its little finger, and
rubbed some of the blood on the queen's mouth. "Now," said she, "you
shall grieve just as I did when you let the sun slip out!" And now the
prince could in no way save her, she was to be and should be burned.
But at the very moment when they were leading her to the stake, the
foster-mother appeared with all three children; the two older ones she
led by the hand, the youngest she carried on her arm. She stepped up to
the young queen and said: "Here are your children, for now I give them
back to you. I am the Virgin Mary, and the grief that you have felt is
the same grief that I felt aforetimes, when you had let the star, the
moon and the sun slip out. Now you have been punished for that which you
did, and from now on the power of speech is restored to you!"
The happiness which then filled the prince and princess may be imagined,
but cannot be described. They lived happily together ever after, and
from that time forward even the prince's mother was very fond of the
young queen.
NOTE
"The Child of Mary" (Asbjoernsen, and Moe, N.F.E., p. 34, No. 8,
taken from the Bresemann translation [1847]), is a pious
fairy-tale, which is also current in Germany; a good fairy often
takes the place of the Virgin Mary.
XI
STORM MAGIC
The cabin-boy had been traveling around all summer long with his
captain; but when they began to prepare to set sail in the fall, he grew
restless and did not want to go along. The captain liked him, for though
he was no more than a boy, he was quite at home on deck, was a big, tall
lad, and did not mind lending a hand when need arose; then, too, he did
as much work as an able seaman, and was so full of fun that he kept the
whole crew in good humor. And so the captain did not like to lose him.
But the youth said out and out that he was not minded to take to the
blue pond in the fall; though he was willing to stay on board till
the ship was loaded and ready to sail. One Sunday, while the crew was
ashore, and the captain had gone to a farm-holding near the forest, in
order to bargain for small timber and log wood--presumably on his own
account--for a deck load, the youth had been left to guard the ship.
But you must know that he was a Sunday child, and had found a four-leaf
clover; and that was the reason he had the second sight. He could see
those who are invisible, but they could not see him.
And as he was sitting there in the forward cabin, he heard voices
within the ship. He peered through a crack, and there were three
coal-black crows sitting inside the deck-beams, and they were talking
about their husbands. All three were tired of them, and were planning
their death. One could see at once that they were witches, who had
assumed another form.
"But is it certain that there is no one here who can overhear us?" said
one of the crows. And by the way she spoke the cabin-boy knew her for
the captain's wife.
"No, you can see there's not," said the others, the wives of the first
and second quartermasters. "There is not a soul aboard."
"Well, then I do not mind saying that I know of a good way to get rid of
them," said the captain's wife once more, and hopped closer to the two
others. "We will turn ourselves into breakers, wash them into the sea,
and sink the ship with every man on board."
That pleased the others, and they sat there a long time discussing the
day and the fairway. "But is it certain that no one can overhear us?"
once more asked the captain's wife.
"You know that such is the case," said the two others.
"Well, there is a counter-spell for what we wish to do, and if it is
used, it will go hard with us, for it will cost us nothing less than our
lives!"
"What is the counter-spell, sister," asked the wife of the one
quartermaster.
"Is it certain that no one is listening to us? It seemed to me as though
some one were smoking in the forward cabin."
"But you know we looked in every corner. They just forgot to let the
fire go out in the caboose, and that is why there's smoke," said the
quartermaster's wife, "so tell away."
"If they buy three cords of birch-wood," said the witch,--"but it must
be full measure, and they must not bargain for it--and throw the first
cord into the water, billet by billet, when the first breaker strikes,
and the second cord, billet by billet, when the second breaker strikes,
and the third cord, billet by billet, when the third breaker strikes,
then it is all up with us!"
"Yes, that's true, sister, then it is all up with us! Then it is all up
with us!" said the wives of the quartermasters; "but there is no one who
knows it," they cried, and laughed loudly, and with that they flew out
of the hatchway, screaming and croaking like ravens.
When it came time to sail, the cabin-boy would not go along for anything
in the world; and all the captain's coaxing, and all his promises were
useless, nothing would tempt him to go. At last they asked him whether
he were afraid, because fall was at hand, and said he would rather hide
behind the stove, hanging to mother's apron strings. No, said the youth,
he was not afraid, and they could not say that they had ever seen him
show a sign of so land-lubberly a thing as fear; and he was willing to
prove it to them, for now he was going along with them, but he made
it a condition that three cords of birch-wood were to be bought, full
measure, and that on a certain day he was to have command, just as
though he himself were the captain. The captain asked what sort of
nonsense this might be, and whether he had ever heard of a cabin-boy's
being entrusted with the command of a ship. But the boy answered that
was all one to him; if they did not care to buy the three cords of
birch-wood, and obey him, as though he were captain, for the space of a
single day--the captain and crew should know which day it was to be in
advance--then he would set foot on the ship no more, and far less would
he ever dirty his hands with pitch and tar on her again. The whole thing
seemed strange to the captain, yet he finally gave in, because he wanted
to have the boy along with him and, no doubt, he also thought that
he would come to his senses again when they were once under way. The
quartermaster was of the same opinion. "Just let him command all he
likes, and if things go wrong with him, we'll help him out," said he. So
the birch-wood was bought, full-measure and without haggling, and they
set sail.
When the day came on which the cabin-boy was to take command, the
weather was fair and quiet; but he drummed up the whole ship's crew, and
with the exception of a tiny bit of canvas, had all sails reefed. The
captain and crew laughed at him, and said: "That shows the sort of a
captain we have now. Don't you want us to reef that last bit of sail
this very minute?" "Not yet," answered the cabin-boy, "but before long."
Suddenly a squall struck them, struck them so heavily that they thought
they would capsize, and had they not reefed the sails they would
undoubtedly have foundered when the first breaker roared down upon the
ship.
The boy ordered them to throw the first cord of birch-wood overboard,
billet by billet, one at a time and never two, and he did not let them
touch the other two cords. Now they obeyed him to the letter, and did
not laugh; but cast out the birch-wood billet by billet. When the last
billet fell they heard a groaning, as though some one were wrestling
with death, and then the squall had passed.
"Heaven be praised!" said the crew--and the captain added: "I am going
to let the company know that you saved ship and cargo."
"That's all very well, but we are not through yet," said the boy, "there
is worse to come," and he told them to reef every last rag, as well as
what had been left of the topsails. The second squall hit them with even
greater force than the first, and was so vicious and violent that the
whole crew was frightened. While it was at its worst, the boy told them
to throw overboard the second cord; and they threw it over billet by
billet, and took care not to take any from the third cord. When the last
billet fell, they again heard a deep groan, and then all was still. "Now
there will be one more squall, and that will be the worst," said the
boy, and sent every one to his station. There was not a hawser loose on
the whole ship.
The last squall hit them with far more force than either of the
preceding ones, the ship laid over on her side so that they thought she
would not right herself again, and the breaker swept over the deck.
But the boy told them to throw the last cord of wood overboard, billet
by billet, and no two billets at once. And when the last billet of wood
fell, they heard a deep groaning, as though some one were dying hard,
and when all was quiet once more, the whole sea was the color of blood,
as far as eye could reach.
When they reached land, the captain and the quartermasters spoke of
writing to their wives. "That is something you might just as well let
be," said the cabin-boy, "seeing that you no longer have any wives."
"What silly talk is this, young know-it-all! We have no wives?" said the
captain. "Or do you happen to have done away with them?" asked the
quartermasters.
"No, all of us together did away with them," answered the boy, and told
them what he had heard and seen that Sunday afternoon when he was on
watch on the ship; while the crew was ashore, and the captain was buying
his deckload of wood.
And when they sailed home they learned that their wives had disappeared
the day of the storm, and that since that time no one had seen or heard
anything more of them.
NOTE
A weird tale of the sea and of witches is that of "Storm Magic"
(Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 248. From the vicinity of
Christiania, told by a sailor, Rasmus Olsen). In the "Fritjof
Legend" the hero has a similar adventure at sea with two witches,
who call up a tremendous storm. It would be interesting to know
the inner context of the cabin-boy's counter magic, and why it is
that the birch-wood, cast into the sea billet by billet, had the
power to destroy the witches.
XII
THE FOUR-SHILLING PIECE