the king had promised him. And when the king hesitated and began to make
all sorts of excuses, in order not to have to keep his promise, Murmur
said it would be best to have a substantial knapsackful of provisions
made ready, since now he, Murmur, was going to take his reward himself.
This the king did, and when the knapsack was ready, Murmur took the king
along with him in front of the castle, and gave him a proper shove, so
that he flew high up into the air. And he threw the knapsack up after
him, so that he would not be left altogether without provisions; and if
he has not come down yet, then he, together with the knapsack, is
floating between heaven and earth to this very day.
NOTE
"Murmur Goose-Egg" (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., p. 172, No. 96. From
Gudbrandsdal, title and introduction after a variant from the
vicinity of Christiania) is predestined to great deeds from birth,
like his Swedish counterpart Knoes. This giant fellow, who fears
neither death nor the devil, if he only has enough to eat, is of
old a favorite figure in Norse fairy-tale. It is by means of
similar giant fooleries that Thor, the god of the Norwegian
peasant, was made ridiculous, and shown up as a braggart; and in
the Song of Harbord he is mocked because of his fondness for
herring and mush, the very dish Murmur demands before he crawls
from the egg. Thor is also credited with a trip to the nether
world, just as Murmur is sent to the devil in hell, to collect a
tribute.
XXIV
THE TROLL-WIFE
Once upon a time, long, long years ago, there lived a well-to-do old
couple on a homestead up in Hadeland. They had a son, who was a dragoon,
a big, handsome fellow. They had a pasture in the hills, and the hut was
not like most of the herdsmen's huts; but was well and solidly built,
and even had a chimney, a roof and a window. And there they spent the
summer; but when they came back home in the fall, the wood-cutters and
huntsmen and fishermen, and whoever else had business in the woods at
that time, noticed that the mountain folk had carried on its tricks with
their herd. And among the mountain folk was a maiden who was so
beautiful that her like had never been seen.
The son had often heard tell of her, and one fall, when his parents had
already come home from the mountain pasture, he put on his full uniform,
saddled his service horse, thrust his pistols in the holsters, and thus
rode up into the hills. When he rode toward the pasture, such a fire
burned in the herdsman's hut that it lit up every road, and then he knew
that the mountain folk were inside. So he tied his horse to a pine-tree,
took a pistol from its holster, crept up to the hut, and peeped through
the window. And there sat an old man and a woman who were quite crooked
and shriveled up with age, and so unspeakably ugly that he had never
seen anything like it in his life; but with them was a maiden, and she
was so surpassingly beautiful that he fell in love with her at once, and
felt that he could not live without her. All had cow's tails, and the
lovely maiden, too. And he could see that they had only just arrived,
for everything was in disorder. The maiden was busy washing the ugly old
man, and the woman was building a fire under the great cheese-kettle on
the hearth.
At that moment the dragoon flung open the door, and shot off his pistol
right above the maiden's head, so that she tottered and fell to the
ground. And then she grew every bit as ugly as she had been beautiful
before, and she had a nose as long as a pistol-case.
"Now you may take her, for now she belongs to you!" said the old man.
But the dragoon stood as though rooted to the spot; stood where he
stood, and could not take a single step, either forward or backward.
Then the old man began to wash the girl; and she looked a little better;
her nose was only half its original size, and her ugly cow's tail was
tied back; but she was not as handsome, and any one who said so would
not have been telling the truth.
"Now she is yours, my proud dragoon! Take her up before you on your
horse, and ride into town and marry her. And you need only set the
table for us in the little room in the bake-house; for we do not want
to be with the other wedding-guests," said the old monster, her father,
"but when the dishes make the round, you can stop in where we are."
He did not dare do anything else, and took her up before him on his
horse, and made ready to marry her. But before she went to church, the
bride begged one of the bridesmaids to stand close behind her, so that
no one could see her tail fall off when the priest joined their hands.
So the wedding was celebrated, and when the dishes made the round, the
bridegroom went out into the room where the table had been set for the
old folk from the mountain. And at that time there was nothing to be
seen there; but after the wedding-guests had gone, there was so much
gold and silver, and such a pile of money lying there, as he had never
seen together before.
For a long time all went well. Whenever guests came, his wife laid the
table for the old folk in the bake-house, and on each occasion so much
money was left lying there, that before long they did not know what to
do with it all. But ugly she was, and ugly she remained, and he was
heartily weary of her. So it was bound to happen that he sometimes flew
into a rage, and threatened her with cuffs and blows. Once he wanted to
go to town, and since it was fall, and the ground already frozen, the
horse had first to be shod. So he went into the smithy--for he himself
was a notable farrier--but, no matter what lie did, the horse-shoe was
either too large or too small, and would not fit at all. He had no other
horse at home, and he toiled away until noon and on into the afternoon.
"Will you never make an end of your shoeing?" asked his wife. "You are
not a very good husband; but you are a far worse farrier. I see there is
nothing left for me but to go into the smithy myself and shoe the horse.
This shoe is too large, you should have made it smaller, and that one is
too small, you should have made it larger."
She went into the smithy, and the first thing she did was to take the
horse-shoe in both hands and bend it straight.
"There, look at it," said she, "that is how you must do it." And with
that she bent it together again as though it were made of lead. "Now
hold up the horse's leg," said she, and the horse-shoe fitted to a hair,
so that the best farrier could not have bettered it.
"You have a great deal of strength in your fingers," said her husband,
and he looked at her.
"Do you think so?" was her reply. "What would have happened to me had
you been as strong? But I love you far too dearly ever to use my
strength against you," said she.
And from that day on he was the best of husbands.
NOTE
"The Troll-Wife" (Asbjoernsen, _Huldreeventyr_, I, p. 77. From
Hadeland, told by a farrier who knew a number of fairy-tales)
deals with a marriage between a Christian and a Troll. Strange to
say, the woman is kind and gentle beyond all reproach, while her
husband grows less kind and more brutal, and does not improve
until his wife shows that troll strength and skill are still at
her command.
XXV
THE KING'S HARES
Once upon a time there was a man who lived in the little back room. He
had given up his estate to the heir; but in addition he had three sons,
who were named Peter, Paul and Esben, who was the youngest. All three
hung around at home and would not work, for they had it too easy, and
they thought themselves too good for anything like work, and nothing was
good enough for them. Finally Peter once heard that the king wanted a
shepherd for his hares, and he told his father he would apply for the
position, as it would just suit him, seeing that he wished to serve no
one lower in rank than the king. His father, it is true, was of the
opinion that there might be other work that would suit him better, for
whoever was to herd hares would have to be quick and spry, and not a
sleepy-head, and when the hares took to their heels in all directions,
it was a dance of another kind than when one skipped about a room. But
it was of no use. Peter insisted, and would have his own way, took his
knapsack, and shambled down hill. After he had gone a while, he saw an
old woman who had got her nose wedged in a tree-stump while chopping
wood, and when Peter saw her jerking and pulling away, trying to get
out, he burst into loud laughter.
"Don't stand there and laugh in such a stupid way," said the woman,
"but come and help a poor, feeble old woman. I wanted to split up some
fire-wood, and caught my nose here, and here I have been standing for
more than a hundred years, pulling and jerking, without a bit of bread
to chew in all that time," said she.
Then Peter had to laugh all the harder. He found it all very amusing,
and said that if she had already been standing there a hundred years,
then she could probably hold out for another hundred years or more.
When he came to court they at once took him on as a herdsman. The place
was not bad, there was good food, and good wages, and the chance of
winning the princess besides; yet if no more than a single one of the
king's hares were to be lost, they would cut three red strips from his
back, and throw him into the snake-pit.
As long as Peter was on the common or in the enclosure, he kept his
hares together nicely, but later, when they reached the forest, they ran
away from him across the hills. Peter ran after them with tremendous
leaps, as long as he thought he could catch even a single hare, but when
the very last one had vanished, his breath was gone, and he saw no more
of them. Toward noon he went home, taking his time about it, and when he
reached the enclosure, he looked around for them on all sides, but no
hares came. And then, when he came to the castle, there stood the king
with the knife in his hand. He cut three red strips from his back, and
cast him into the snake-pit.
After a while Paul decided to go to the castle and herd the king's
hares. His father told him what he had told Peter, and more besides; but
he insisted on going, and would not listen, and he fared neither better
nor worse than Peter had. The old woman stood and pulled and jerked at
her nose in the tree-trunk, and he laughed, found it very amusing, and
let her stand there and torment herself. He was at once taken into
service, but the hares all ran away across the hills, though he pursued
them, and worked away like a shepherd dog in the sun, and when he came
back to the castle in the evening minus his hares, there stood the king
with the knife in his hand, cut three broad strips from his back, rubbed
in pepper and salt, and flung him into the snake-pit.
Then, after some time had passed, the youngest decided to set out to
herd the king's hares, and told his father of his intention. He thought
that would be just the work for him, to loaf about in forest and field,
look for strawberry patches, herd a flock of hares, and lie down and
sleep in the sun between times. His father thought that there was other
work that would suit him better, and that even if he fared no worse than
his brothers, it was quite certain that he would fare no better. Whoever
herded the king's hares must not drag along as though he had lead in
his soles, or like a fly on a limerod; and that when the hares took to
their heels, it was a horse of another color from catching flees with
gloved hands; whoever wanted to escape with a whole back, would have to
be more than quick and nimble, and swifter than a bird. But there was
nothing he could do. Esben merely kept on saying that he wanted to go to
court and serve the king, for he would not take service with any lesser
master, said he; and he would see to the hares, they could not be much
worse than a herd of goats or of calves. And with that he took his
knapsack and strolled comfortably down the hill.
After he had wandered a while, and began to feel a proper hunger, he
came to the old woman who was wedged by the nose in the tree-trunk and
who was pulling and jerking away, in order to get loose.
"Good day, mother," said Esben, "and why are you worrying yourself so
with your nose, you poor thing?" "No one has called me mother for the
last hundred years," said the old woman, "but come and help me out, and
give me a bite to eat; for I have not had a bit to eat in all that time.
And I will do something for your sake as well," said she.
Yes, no doubt she would need something to eat and drink badly, said
Esben.
Then he hewed the tree-trunk apart, so that she got her nose out of the
cleft, sat down to eat, and shared with her. The old woman had a good
appetite, and she received a good half of his provisions.
When they were through she gave Esben a whistle which had the power that
if he blew into one end, whatever he wished scattered was scattered to
all the winds, and when he blew into the other, all came together again.
And if the whistle passed from his possession, it would return as soon
as he wished it back.
"That is a wonderful whistle!" thought Esben.
When he came to the castle, they at once took him on as a shepherd; the
place was not bad, he was to have food and wages, and should he manage
to herd the king's hares without losing one of them, he might possibly
win the princess; but if he lost so much as a single hare, and no matter
how small it might be, then they would cut three red strips from his
back, and the king was so sure of his case that he went right off to
whet his knife. It would be a simple matter to herd the hares, thought
Esben; for when they went off they were as obedient as a herd of sheep,
and so long as they were on the common, and in the enclosure, they
even marched in rank and file. But when they reached the forest, and
noon-time came, and the sun burned down on hill and dale, they all took
to their heels and ran away across the hills.
"Hallo, there! So you want to run away!" called Esben, and blew into one
end of his whistle, and then they scattered the more quickly to all the
ends of the earth. But when he had reached an old charcoal-pit, he blew
into the other end of his whistle, and before he knew it the hares were
back again, and standing in rank and file so he could review them, just
like a regiment of soldiers on the drill-ground.
[Illustration: "THE KING RECKONED AND ADDED THEM UP, AND COUNTED WITH
HIS FINGERS."
--_Page 207_]
"That is a splendid whistle!" thought Esben; lay down on a sunny
hillock, and fell asleep. The hares were left to their own devices, and
played until evening; then he once more whistled them together, and took
them along to the castle like a herd of sheep.
The king and queen and the princess, too, stood in the hall-way, and
wondered what sort of a fellow this was, who could herd hares without
losing a single one. The king reckoned and added them up, and counted
with his fingers, and then added them up again; but not even the
teeny-weeniest hare was missing. "He is quite a chap, he is," said the
princess.
The following day he again went to the forest, and herded his hares; but
while he lay in all comfort beside a strawberry patch, they sent out the
chamber-maid from the castle to him, and she was to find out how he
managed to herd the king's hares.
He showed her his whistle, and blew into one end, and all the hares
darted away across the hills in all directions, and then he blew into
the other, and they came trotting up from all sides, and once more stood
in rank and file. "That is a wonderful whistle," said the chamber-maid.
She would gladly give him a hundred dollars, if he cared to sell it.
"Yes, it is a splendid whistle," said Esben, "and I will not sell it for
money. But if you give me a hundred dollars, and a kiss with every
dollar to boot, then I might let you have it."
Yes, indeed, that would suit her right down to the ground; she would
gladly give him two kisses with every dollar, and feel grateful,
besides.
So she got the whistle, but when she reached the castle, the whistle
disappeared all of a sudden. Esben had wished it back again, and toward
evening he came along, driving his hares like a herd of sheep. The king
reckoned and counted and added, but all to no purpose, for not the least
little hare was missing.
When Esben was herding his hares the third day, they sent the princess
to him to get away his pipe from him. She was tickled to death, and
finally offered him two hundred dollars if he would let her have the
whistle, and would also tell her what she had to do in order to fetch it
safely home with her.
"Yes, it is a very valuable whistle," said Esben, "and I will not sell
it," but at last, as a favor to her, he said he would let her have it if
she gave him two hundred dollars, and a kiss for every dollar to boot.
But if she wanted to keep it, why, she must take good care of it, for
that was her affair.
"That is a very high price for a hare-whistle," said the princess, and
she really shrank from kissing him, "but since we are here in the middle
of the forest, where no one can see or hear us, I'll let it pass, for I
positively must have the whistle," said she. And when Esben had pocketed
the price agreed upon, she received the whistle, and held it tightly
clutched in her hand all the way home; yet when she reached the castle,
and wanted to show it, it disappeared out of her hands. On the following
day the queen herself set out, and she felt quite sure that she would
succeed in coaxing the whistle away from him.
She was stingier, and only offered fifty dollars; but she had to raise
her bid until she reached three hundred. Esben said it was a magnificent
whistle, and that the price was a beggarly one; but seeing that she
was the queen, he would let it pass. She was to pay him three hundred
dollars, and for every dollar she was to give him a buss to boot, then
she should have the whistle. And he was paid in full as agreed, since as
regards the busses the queen was not so stingy.
When she had the whistle in her hands, she tied it fast, and hid it
well, but she fared not a whit better than either of the others; when
she wanted to show the whistle it was gone, and in the evening Esben
came home, driving his hares as though they were a well-trained flock of
sheep.
"You are stupid women!" said the king. "I suppose I will have to go to
him myself if we really are to obtain this trumpery whistle. There seems
to be nothing else left to do!" And the following day, when Esben was
once more herding his hares, the king followed him, and found him at the
same place where the women had bargained with him.
They soon became good friends, and Esben showed him the whistle, and
blew into one end and the other, and the king thought the whistle very
pretty, and finally insisted on buying it, even though it cost him a
thousand dollars.
"Yes, it is a magnificent whistle," said Esben, "and I would not sell it
for money. But do you see that white mare over yonder?" said he, and
pointed into the forest.
"Yes, she belongs to me, that is my Snow Witch!" cried the king, for he
knew her very well.
"Well, if you will give me a thousand dollars, and kiss the white mare
that is grazing on the moor by the big pine, to boot, then you can have
my whistle!" said Esben.
"Is that the only price at which you will sell?" asked the king.
"Yes," said Esben.
"But at least may I not put a silken handkerchief between?" asked the
king.
This was conceded him, and thus he obtained the whistle. He put it in
the purse in his pocket, and carefully buttoned up the pocket. Yet when
he reached the castle, and wanted to take it out, he was in the same
case as the women, for he no longer had the whistle. And in the evening
Esben came home with his herd of hares, and not the least little hare
was missing.
The king was angry, and furious because he had made a fool of them all,
and had swindled the king's self out of the whistle into the bargain,
and now he wanted to do away with Esben. The queen was of the same
opinion, and said it was best to behead such a knave when he was caught
in the act.
Esben thought this neither fair nor just; for he had only done what he
had been asked to do, and had defended himself as best he knew how.
But the king said that this made no difference to him; yet if Esben
could manage to fill the big brewing-cauldron till it ran over, he would
spare his life.
The job would be neither long nor hard, said Esben, he thought he could
warrant that, and he began to tell about the old woman with her nose
in the tree-trunk, and in between he said, "I must make up plenty of
stories, to fill the cauldron,"--and then he told of the whistle, and
the chamber-maid who came to him and wanted to buy the whistle for a
hundred dollars, and about all the kisses that she had had to give him
to boot, up on the hillock by the forest; and then he told about the
princess, how she had come and kissed him so sweetly for the whistle's
sake, because no one could see or hear it in the forest--"I must make up
plenty of stories, in order to fill the cauldron," said Esben. Then he
told of the queen, and of how stingy she had been with her money, and
how liberal with her busses--"for I must make up plenty of stories in
order to fill the cauldron," said Esben.
"But I think it must be full now!" said the queen.
"O, not a sign of it!" said the king.
Then Esben began to tell how the king had come to him, and about the
white mare who was grazing on the moor, "and since he insisted on having
the whistle he had to--he had to--well, with all due respect, I have to
make up plenty of stories in order to fill the cauldron," said Esben.
"Stop, stop! It is full, fellow!" cried the king. "Can't you see that it
is running over?"
The king and the queen were of the opinion that it would be best for
Esben to receive the princess and half the kingdom; there did not seem
anything else to do.
"Yes, it was a magnificent whistle!" said Esben.
NOTE
"The King's Hares" (Asbjoernsen, N.F.E., p. 190, No. 98. After
different variants from Roeken, Aadal, Bier and Asker, Riugerike
and Hardanger) is the story of the cauldron full of lies, which
has probably found special favor in Norway because of its outcome,
not very flattering for the king and queen. It is noticeable that
in Northern fairy-tales those kings who will not give up their
daughters to the heroes at any cost are handled with considerable
disrespect.
XXVI
HELGE-HAL IN THE BLUE HILL
Once upon a time there was a sinister old couple, who lived out under
the open sky. All that they had were three sons, an old cook-pot, an old
frying-pan, and an old cat. Then the man died, and after a time his wife
died, too. Now their estate was to be divided. So the oldest took the
old cook-pot, and the second took the old frying-pan, and Ebe Ashpeter
had no choice. He had to take the old cat, and they did not ask him
whether he wanted to or not.
"Brother Peter can scrape out the cook-pot after he has loaned it out,"
said Ebe. "Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his
frying-pan; but what am I to do with this wretched cat?" And he was
angry and envious. Yet he scratched the cat and stroked it, and this
pleased the cat so that she began to purr, and raised her tail in the
air.
"Wait, wait, I'll help you yet," said the cat, "wait, wait, I'll help
you yet!"
There was nothing to bite or break in the hut. Brother Peter and Brother
Paul had each of them gone off in a different direction. So Ebe set out,
too, with the cat in the lead, himself following; but after a time he
turned and went home again, to see whether the floor had been swept, and
the cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp,
tapp, for a while, she came to a great rock, and there she met an
enormous herd of reindeer. The cat crept softly around the herd, and
then with one leap sprang between the horns of the finest buck.
"If you do not go where I want you to, I'll scratch out your eyes, and
drive you over rock and precipice!" said she. So the buck did not dare
do anything save what the cat wished, and off they went over stick and
stone, from cliff to cliff, close by Ebe, who was just polishing the
door-sill of his house, and with one bound right into the castle.
"I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king
might care to have this buck reindeer to drive," said the cat. Yes, he
could make good use of such a young, handsome animal, some time, when he
had occasion to drive out to visit a neighboring king.
"This Ebe must be a proud and powerful lord," said the king, "if he can
make me such presents."
"Yes, he is the greatest lord in all your land and kingdom," said the
cat, but no matter how many questions the king asked, he learned nothing
more.