Once upon a time, the king of the Golden Land lost
his way in a forest, and, notwithstanding all his efforts, could not find his
way out. Presently he encountered a stranger, who said to him, “What are you
doing here, my friend, in this gloomy forest, where only wild beasts dwell?”
The king replied, “I have lost my way, and am trying to find the road home.”
“If you will promise to give me the first living thing that meets you when you
return to your palace, I will show you the right way,” said the stranger.
The king reflected awhile, and then answered, “Why
should I run the risk of losing my good hunting-dog? I may perhaps succeed in
finding my way home by myself.” The stranger went away, but the king wandered
about in the wood till his provisions were exhausted, while he was unable to
discover the least trace of the right path. Then the stranger met him a second
time, and said, “Promise me the first living thing that meets you on your
return to your palace.” But as the king was very obstinate, he refused to
promise anything yet. He once more boldly explored the forest backwards and
forwards, and at length sank down exhausted under a tree, and thought that his
last hour had come. Then the stranger, who was none other than the Old Boy
himself, appeared to the king for the third time, and said, “Don’t be a fool.
How can you be so fond of your dog that you are unwilling to part with him to
save your life? Only promise me what I require, and you will soon be relieved
from your anxiety, and your life will be saved.” “My life is worth more than a
thousand dogs,” answered the king. “The welfare of a whole country and people
is at stake. Let it be so, I will grant your request, if you will only take me
home.” He had hardly uttered the words when he found himself at once on the
borders of the wood, and could see his palace in the distance. He hurried
thither, and the first thing which met him at the gate was the nurse with the
royal infant, who stretched out his arms to his father. The king was horrified,
and scolded the nurse, telling her to take the child away as quickly as
possible. Directly afterwards came his faithful dog, and fawned upon his
master, who repulsed his advances with a kick. Innocent dependants often suffer
thus for the folly and ill-humour of their superiors.
As soon as the king’s anger had cooled a little,
he exchanged his child, a promising boy, for the daughter of a peasant, and
thus the prince was reared up in the house of poor people, while the peasant’s
daughter slept in silken robes in the royal cradle. In a year’s time, the Old
Boy made his appearance to demand his due, and took the little girl with him,
supposing her to be the king’s child, for he knew nothing of the artifice by which
the children had been changed. The king exulted at the success of his
stratagem, and ordered a great feast. He loaded the parents of the stolen child
with rich presents, that the prince might want for nothing in the cottage, but
did not yet venture to reclaim his son, fearing lest the deception might be
discovered. The peasant family were well satisfied with the arrangement, for
they had one mouth less to feed, and plenty of food and money.
Meantime the prince grew up to boyhood, and spent
a very pleasant life in the house of his foster-parents. But still he was not
quite happy, for as soon as he learned how the stratagem had succeeded, he was
much grieved that a poor innocent girl should have to suffer the consequences
of his father’s thoughtlessness in his place. He formed a fixed resolve either
to release the poor girl, if this was possible, or to perish with her. He could
not endure the thought of becoming king by the sacrifice of a maiden. One day
he secretly disguised himself as a peasant lad, took a bag of peas on his
shoulder, and went to the wood where his father had lost his way eighteen years
before.
Soon after entering the wood he began to cry out,
“O what an unfortunate boy I am! how far I must have wandered from the path! Who
will show me the way out of this wood, for there is no human soul to be seen
far or near!” Presently a stranger with a long grey beard and a leather pouch
at his girdle, like a Tartar, made his appearance. He gave the youth a friendly
greeting, adding, “I know this neighbourhood well, and can direct you anywhere
you please, if you will promise me a good return.”
“What can a poor lad like me promise you?”
answered the artful prince. “I have nothing more than my young life, for even
the coat on my body belongs to the master whom I must serve in exchange for
food and clothing.”
The stranger looked at the bag of peas on the
lad’s shoulder, and remarked, “You can’t be quite destitute, for you carry a
bag which seems to be very heavy.”
“There are peas in the bag,” said the prince. “My
old aunt died last night, and has left me so much as this, that I may be able
to set boiled peas before the watchers of the dead as is the custom in this
country. I have begged the peas from my host in the name of God, and was going
away with them, when I struck into a forest path as a short cut, and it has led
me astray, as you see.”
“Then I conclude, from what you say, that you are
an orphan,” observed the stranger with a grin. “If you will enter my service, I
happen just to be in want of a handy workman for my small household, and I’ve
taken a fancy to you.”
“Why shouldn’t I, if we can come to terms?”
replied the prince. “I was born to servitude, and a stranger’s bread is always
bitter, so that it matters little to me what master I serve. But what will you
promise me for a year’s service?”
“Well,” said the stranger, “you shall have fresh
food every day, meat twice a week, and when you work out of doors, butter or
herrings as a treat, a full suit of summer and winter clothing, besides two
acres of land for your own use.”
“That will suit me,” said the crafty prince. “Let
other people bury my aunt; I’ll go with you.”
The Old Boy seemed well pleased at having made
such a good stroke of business, and spun round on one foot like a teetotum,
hallooing so loud that the wood re-echoed. Then he started off on the road with
his new servant, and enlivened the tedium of the way by a variety of jokes,
without observing that his companion dropped a pea from his bag at every ten or
fifteen paces. The travellers halted for the night in the forest under a large
fir-tree, and continued their journey next morning. The sun was already high in
the heavens when they reached a large stone. Here the old man stopped, looked
sharply round on all sides, whistled loudly, and then stamped on the ground
three times with his left foot. Suddenly a secret door opened under the stone,
and revealed a covered way like the entrance to a cavern. Then the old man
seized the prince’s arm, and said roughly, “Follow me!”
They were in utter darkness, but it seemed to the
prince that the path led them deeper and deeper into the earth. After some time
a glimmer of light again grew visible, but the light did not resemble that of
either the sun or moon. The prince looked up in some alarm, but could see
neither sun nor sky; only a mass of shining clouds floated over him, which
seemed to canopy this new world, in which everything had a strange appearance.
Land and water, trees and plants, animals and birds, all had a different aspect
from what he had seen before. But what seemed strangest to him was the
wonderful silence around, for there was not a voice or a rustle to be heard
anywhere. All was as still as in the grave, and even the prince’s own footsteps
made no sound. Here and there a bird might be seen sitting on a bough with
stretched-out neck and swelled throat, as if singing, but no sound was audible.
The dogs opened their mouths to bark, and the bulls raised their heads to
bellow, but neither bark nor bellow could be heard. The water flowed over the
gravel without gushing, the wind waved the tops of the trees without rustling,
and flies and beetles flew about without buzzing. The Old Boy did not speak a
word, and when his companion tried to speak he felt his voice die away in his
throat.
Nobody knows how long they travelled through this
unearthly silent country. Terror seized on the heart of the prince, his hair
stood on end like bristles, and he shivered with fear, when at length, to his
great joy, the first sound fell on his straining ears, and seemed to make a
real country of this shadowy land. It seemed to him that a great herd of horses
was toiling through swampy ground. At last the old man opened his mouth, and
said, licking his lips, “The soup kettle’s boiling, and they are expecting us
at home.” They went on some distance farther, when the prince thought he heard
the sound of a sawmill, in which at least two dozen saws seemed to be at work,
but the host said, “My old grandmother is already fast asleep and snoring.”
Presently they reached the top of a hill, and the
prince could see the homestead of his new master at some distance, but there
were so many buildings that it looked more like a village or an outlying suburb
than the residence of a single owner. At length they arrived, and found an
empty dog-kennel at the gate. “Creep in there,” said the master, “and lie quiet
till I have spoken to my grandmother about you. She is very self-willed, like
most old people, and can’t bear a stranger in the house.” The prince crept
trembling into the dog-kennel, and began to repent the rashness that had
brought him into such a scrape.
After a time the host came back, called the prince
from his hiding-place, and said with a wry face, “Take good note of the
arrangements of our household, and take care not to go against them, or you
might fare very badly.
“Keep your eyes and ears both open,
But your mouth fast closed for ever,
And obey without a question:
Think whatever it may please you;
Never speak without permission.”
When the prince crossed the threshold, his eyes
fell upon a young girl of great beauty, with brown eyes and curly hair. He
thought to himself, “If the old man has many such daughters as this, I should
be glad to become his son-in-law. The maiden is just to my taste.” The fair
maiden laid the table without saying a word, set the food upon it, and then
modestly took her place by the hearth, as if she had not observed the stranger.
She took out needles and worsted, and began to knit a stocking. The master sat
down alone at the table, and did not ask either the man or maid to join him,
nor was anything to be seen of the old grandmother. The Old Boy’s appetite was
immeasurable, and in a very short time he had made a clean sweep of everything
on the table, though it would have been plenty for at least a dozen people.
When at last he allowed his jaws to rest, he said to the maiden, “Scrape out
what is left at the bottom of the pot and kettle, and content yourselves with
the fragments, but throw the bones to the dog.”
The prince’s countenance fell at the idea of this
meal from the scrapings of the kettle, which he was to share with the pretty
girl and the dog. But he soon recovered his spirits when he found a very nice
meal placed on the table from these fragments. During supper he cast many stolen
glances at the maiden, and would have given a great deal if he could have
ventured to speak to her. But whenever he was on the point of speaking, he met
the imploring glance of the maiden, which seemed to say, “Silence!” So the
young man allowed his eyes to speak, and gave expression to this dumb language
by his good appetite, for the maiden had prepared the supper, and it must be
pleasant to her to see that the guest appreciated her cookery. Meantime the old
man had lain down on the stovebench, and made the walls re-echo with his
snoring.
After supper he roused himself, and said to the
prince, “You may rest for two days after your long journey, and look round the
house. But come to me to-morrow evening and I will arrange your work for next
day, for my household must always set about their work before I get up myself.
The girl will show you your lodging.” The prince made an effort to speak, but
the old man came down on him like a thunderbolt, and screamed out, “You dog of
a servant! if you break the rules of the house, you’ll find yourself a head
shorter without more ado. Hold your jaw, and off to bed with you!”
The maiden beckoned him to follow, unlocked a door
and signed to him to enter. The prince thought he saw a tear glisten in her
eye, and would have been only too glad to loiter on the threshold but he was
too much afraid of the old man. “It’s impossible that this beautiful girl can
be his daughter,” thought he, “for she has a kind heart. She must be the poor
girl who was brought here in my place, and for whose sake I undertook this
foolhardy enterprise.” He did not fall asleep for a long time, and even then
his uneasy dreams gave him no rest. He dreamed of all sorts of unknown dangers
which threatened him, and it was always the form of the fair girl that came to
his aid.
When he awoke next morning, his first thought was
to do his best to ingratiate himself with the maiden. He found the industrious
girl already at work, and helped her to draw water from the well and carry it
into the house, chopped wood, kept up the fire under the pots, and helped her
in all her other work. In the afternoon he went out to make himself better
acquainted with his new abode, and was much surprised that he could find no
trace of the old grandmother. He saw a white mare in the stable, and a black
cow with a white-headed calf in the enclosure, and in other locked outhouses he
thought he heard ducks, geese, fowls, &c. Breakfast and dinner were just as
good as last night’s supper, and he would have been very well content with his
position, but that it was so very hard to hold his tongue with the maiden
opposite him. On the evening of the second day he went to the master to receive
his instructions for next day’s work.
The old man said, “I’ll give you an easy job for
to-morrow. Take the scythe, and mow as much grass as the white mare needs for
her day’s provender, and clean out the stable. But if I should come and find
the manger empty or any litter on the floor, it will go badly enough with you.
Take good heed!”
The prince was well pleased, for he thought, “I
shall soon be able to manage this piece of work, for although I have never
handled either plough or scythe before, I have often seen how easily the
country-people manage these tools, and I am quite strong enough.” But when he
was about to go to bed, the maiden crept in gently, and asked in a low voice,
“What work has he given you?” “I’ve an easy task for to-morrow,” answered the
prince. “I have only to mow grass for the white mare, and to clean out the
stable; that’s all.” “O poor fellow!” sighed the maiden, “how can you ever
accomplish it? The white mare is the master’s grandmother, and she is an
insatiable creature, for whom twenty mowers could hardly provide the daily
fodder, and another twenty would have to work from morning till night to clear
the litter from the stable. How will you be able to manage both tasks alone?
Take my advice, and follow it exactly. When you have thrown a few loads of
grass to the mare, you must plait a strong rope of willow-twigs in her sight.
She will ask you what this is for, and you must answer, ‘To bind you up so
tightly that you will not feel disposed to eat more than I give you, or to
litter the stable after I have cleared it.’ ” As soon as the girl had finished
speaking, she slid out of the room as gently as she had come, without giving
the youth time to thank her. He repeated her instructions to himself several
times, for fear of forgetting anything, and then went to sleep.
Early next morning he set to work. He plied the
scythe lustily, and soon mowed down so much grass that he could rake several
loads together. He took one load to the mare, but when he returned with the
second he found with dismay that the manger was already empty, and that there
was half a ton of litter on the floor. He saw now that he would have been lost
without the maiden’s good advice, and resolved to follow it at once. He began
to plait the rope, when the mare turned her head and asked in astonishment, “My
dear son, what do you want with this rope?” “O nothing at all,” he answered; “I
am only going to bind you up so tightly that you won’t care to eat more than I
choose to give you, or to drop more litter than I choose to carry away.” The
white mare looked at him, and sighed deeply once or twice, but it was clear
that she understood him, for long after midday there was still fodder in the
manger and the floor remained clean. Presently the master came to inspect the
work, and when he found everything in good order he was much surprised, and
asked, “Are you clever enough to do this yourself, or did any one give you good
advice?” But the prince was on his guard, and answered at once, “I have no one
to help me but my own poor head and a mighty God in heaven.” The old man was
silenced, and left the stable grumbling, but the prince was delighted that
everything had succeeded so well.
In the evening the master said, “I have no
particular work for you to-morrow, but as the maid has plenty to do in the
house, you must milk the black cow. But take care not to leave a drop of milk
in the udder. If I find that you have done so, it might cost you your life.” As
the prince went away, he thought, “If there is not some trick in this, I cannot
find the work hard. Thank God, I have strong fingers, and will not leave a drop
of milk behind.” But when he was about to retire to rest, the maiden came to
him again, and asked, “What work have you to do to-morrow?” “I’ve a whole
holiday to-morrow,” answered the prince. “All I have to do to-morrow is to milk
the black cow, and not leave a drop of milk in the udder.” “O you unfortunate
fellow!” sighed she, “how will you ever accomplish it? Know, dear young
stranger, that if you were to milk the black cow from morning till evening, the
milk would continue to flow in one unbroken stream. I am convinced that the old
man is bent on your ruin. But fear nothing, for as long as I am alive no harm
shall happen to you, if you will remember my advice, and follow it exactly.
When you go milking, take a pan full of hot coals, and a smith’s tongs with you.
When you reach the place, put the tongs in the fire, and blow the coals to a
bright flame. If the black cow asks what this is for, answer her as I am about
to whisper in your ear.” Then the maiden crept out of the room on tiptoe as she
had come, and the prince lay down to sleep.
The prince got up almost before dawn next day, and
went to the cowhouse with the milk-pail in one hand, and a pan of live coals in
the other. The black cow looked at his proceedings for a while in silence, and
then asked, “What are you doing, my dear son?” “Nothing at all,” he replied;
“but some cows have a bad habit of keeping back milk in their udders after they
are milked, and in such cases I find hot tongs useful to prevent the chance of
any waste.” The black cow sighed deeply and seemed scared. The prince then took
the pail, milked the cow dry, and when he tried again after a while he found
not a drop of milk in her udder. Some time after the master came into the
cowhouse, and as he was also unable to draw a drop of milk, he asked angrily,
“Are you so clever yourself, or did any one give you good advice?” But the
prince answered as before, “I have no one to help me but my own poor head and a
mighty God in heaven.” The old man went off in great vexation.
When the prince went to the master in the evening,
the latter said, “There is still a heap of hay in the field that I should like
to have brought under cover during dry weather. Bring the hay home to-morrow,
but take care not to leave a particle behind, or it might cost you your life.”
The prince left the room well pleased, thinking, “It’s no great job to bring
hay home. I have only to load it, and the mare must draw it. I won’t spare the
master’s grandmother.” In the evening the maiden crept to his side, and asked
about his work for to-morrow. The prince said smiling, “I am learning all sorts
of farmwork here. I have to bring home a heap of hay to-morrow, and only to
take care not to leave a scrap behind. This is all my work for to-morrow.” “O
poor fellow!” sighed she, “how will you ever do it? If you were to set to work
for a week, with the help of all the inhabitants of a large district, you could
not remove this heap. Whatever you took away from the top would grow up again
from the ground directly. Mark well what I say. You must get up to-morrow
before daybreak, and lead the white mare from the stable, taking with you some
strong cords. Then go to the haycock, fasten the cords round it, and then bind
them to the mare. When this is done, climb on the haycock, and begin to count
one, two, three, four, five, six, and so on. The mare will ask what you are
counting, and you must answer her as I whisper.” Then the maiden left the room,
and the prince went to bed.
When he awoke next morning, the first thing he remembered
was the maiden’s good advice. So he took some strong ropes with him, led out
the white mare, and rode on her back to the haycock, but found that the
so-called haycock contained at least fifty loads. The prince did all that the
maiden had told him, and when he was sitting on the heap, and had counted up to
twenty, the white mare asked in surprise, “What are you counting, my dear son?”
“Nothing at all,” said he; “I was only amusing myself by counting up the packs
of wolves in the forest, but there are so many that I can’t reckon them all
up.” He had hardly spoken when the white mare darted off like the wind, and the
haycock was safely housed in a few moments. The master was not a little
surprised, when he came out after breakfast, to find that the new labourer had
already finished his day’s work. He put him the same question as before, and
received the same reply; and he went off shaking his head and cursing.
In the evening, the prince went as usual to
inquire about his work, and the old man said, “To-morrow you must take the
white-headed calf to pasture, but take care that he doesn’t run away, or it
might cost you your life.” The prince thought, “There are many ten-year old
farm-boys who have whole herds to manage, and surely I can’t find it so very
difficult to look after one calf.” But when the maiden heard of it she said,
“Know that this calf is so wild that he would run three times round the world
in a day. Take this silk thread, and bind one end to the left fore-leg of the
calf, and the other to the little toe of your left foot, and then the calf will
not be able to stir a step from your side, whether you are walking, standing,
or lying down.” Then she left him, and the prince lay down, but it vexed him to
think that he had again forgotten to thank her for her good advice.
Next morning he followed the advice of the
friendly maiden, and led the calf to the pasture by the silken thread. It
remained by his side like a faithful dog, and in the evening he led it back to
the stall, where the old man met him angrily, and, after the usual question and
answer, went off in a fury, and the prince thought it must be the mention of
the holy name which kept him under restraint.
Late in the evening the prince went to his master
for instructions, when the old man gave him a bag of barley, saying, “I will
give you a holiday to-morrow, and you may sleep as long as you like, but you
must work hard to-night instead. Sow me this barley, which will spring up and
ripen quickly; then you must cut it, thresh it, and winnow it, so that you can
malt it and grind it. You must brew beer of this malt, and when I wake
to-morrow morning, you must bring me a jug of fresh beer for my morning drink.
Take care to follow my instructions exactly, or it might easily cost you your
life.”
This time the prince was quite confounded, and on
leaving the room, he stood outside weeping bitterly, and said to himself, “This
is my last night, for no mortal can do this work, and the clever maiden’s aid
will avail me no longer. O unhappy wretch that I am! why was I so thoughtless
as to leave the king’s palace, and thrust myself into this danger! I cannot
even lament my unhappy lot to the stars in heaven, for here there are neither
stars nor sky. But yet God reigns over all.”
He was still standing with the bag of barley in
his hand when the house-door opened and the kind maiden came out. She asked
what troubled him so much, and he replied, “Alas! my last hour has come, and we
must part for ever. I will tell you all before I die. I am the only son of a
great king, from whom I should inherit a mighty empire; but now all hope and
happiness are at an end.” Then he told the maiden with tears of the task the
old man had laid upon him; but it pained him to see that she did not seem to
share his trouble. When he had finished his long story, she smiled and said,
“My dear prince, you may sleep quietly to-night, and enjoy yourself all day
to-morrow. Take my advice, and don’t despise it because I am only a poor
servant-girl. Take this little key, which unlocks the third hen-house, where
the Old Boy keeps the spirits who serve him. Throw the bag of barley into the
house, and repeat word for word the commands that you have received from the
master, and add, ‘If you depart a hair’s breadth from my instructions, you will
all perish together; but if you want help, the door of the seventh pen will be
open to-night, in which dwell the most powerful of the old man’s spirits.’ ”
The prince carried out all her instructions, and
then lay down to sleep. When he awoke in the morning and went to the beer tub,
he found it full of beer violently working, with the foam flowing over the
edge. He tasted the beer, filled a large jug with the foaming drink, and
brought it to his master, who was just getting up. But instead of the thanks
which he expected from him, the old man broke out in uncontrollable fury,
“That’s not from yourself. I see you have good friends and helpers. All right!
we’ll talk again this evening.”
In the evening the old man said, “I have no work
for you to-morrow, but you must come to my bedside to-morrow morning, and shake
hands with me.”
The prince was amused at the old man’s queer whim,
and laughed when he told the maiden. But when she heard it she became very
serious, and said, “Now you must look to yourself, for the old man intends to
eat you to-morrow morning, and there is only one way of escape. You must heat a
shovel red-hot in the stove, and offer it to him instead of your own hand.”
Then she hastened away, and the prince went to bed. Next morning he took good
care to heat the shovel red-hot before the old man awoke. At last he heard him
shouting, “What has become of you, you lazy fellow? Come and shake hands with
me.” But when the prince entered the room with the red-hot shovel in his hand,
the old man cried out with a whining voice, “I am very ill to-day, and cannot
take your hand. But come back this evening to receive my orders.”
The prince loitered about all day, and went to the
old man in the evening as usual to receive his commands for the morrow. He
found him very friendly, and he said, “I am well pleased with you. Come to me
to-morrow morning with the maiden, for I know that you have long been attached
to each other, and I will give her to you as your bride.”
The prince would have liked to dance and shout for
joy, but by good luck he remembered the strict rules of the house, and kept
silent. But when he spoke to his betrothed of his good fortune, and expected
that she would receive the news with equal delight, he saw her turn as white as
the wall with terror, and her tongue seemed to be paralysed. As soon as she
recovered herself a little, she said, “The Old Boy has discovered that I have
been your counsellor, and has resolved to destroy us both. We must fly this
very night, or we are lost. Take an axe, and strike off the head of the
white-headed calf with a heavy blow, and then split the skull in two with a
second stroke. In the brain of the calf you will find a shining red reel, which
you must bring me. I will arrange whatever else is needful.” The prince
thought, “I would rather kill an innocent calf than sacrifice both myself and
this dear girl, and if our flight succeeds, I shall see my home once more. The
peas I sowed must have sprung up by this time, so that we cannot miss our way.”
He went into the stall, and found the cow and the
calf lying asleep near together, and they slept so fast that they did not hear
his approach. But when he struck off the calf’s head, the cow groaned very
loud, as if she had had a bad dream. He hastened to split the calf’s skull with
the second blow, and lo! the whole stall suddenly became as light as if it was
day. The red reel fell out of the brain, and shone like a little sun. The
prince wrapped it carefully in a cloth, and hid it in his bosom. It was
fortunate that the cow did not wake, or she would have begun to roar so loud
that she might easily have roused her master too.
The prince found the maiden waiting for him, at the
gate with a small bundle on her arm. “Where is the reel?” she whispered.
“Here,” replied the prince, and gave it to her. “Now we must hasten our
flight,” said she, and she unravelled a small part of the reel from the cloth
that its shining light might illuminate the darkness of the way like a lantern.
As the prince had expected, the peas had all sprung up, so that they could not
miss the way. The maiden then told the prince that she had once overheard a
conversation between the old man and his grandmother, and had learned that she
was a princess whom the Old Boy had stolen from her parents by a trick. The
prince knew the real state of the case better, but kept silence, rejoicing
inwardly that he had succeeded in freeing the poor girl. The travellers must
have gone a long way before the day began to break.
The Old Boy did not wake till late in the morning,
and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes for a long time before he remembered that
he was going to devour the couple. After waiting for them a good while he said
to himself, “Perhaps they haven’t quite finished their preparations for the
wedding.” But at last he got tired of waiting so long, and shouted out, “Ahoy,
man and maid, what has become of you?” He repeated the cry several times,
shouting and cursing, but neither man nor maid appeared. At last he scrambled
out of bed in a rage, and went in search of the defaulters. But he found the
house empty, and discovered, too, that the beds had not been slept in. Then he
rushed into the stall, and when he saw the calf slaughtered and the magic reel
stolen, he comprehended all. He cursed till everything was black, and opened
the third spirit-house, sending his messengers forth to seek the fugitives.
“Bring me them just as you find them, for I must have them,” said the Old Boy,
and the spirits flew forth like the wind.
The fugitives were just crossing a great plain, when
the maiden suddenly stopped and said, “All is not as it should be. The reel
moves in my hand, and we are certainly pursued.” When they looked back, they
saw a black cloud rushing towards them with great speed. Then the maiden turned
the reel thrice in her hand and said:
“Hear me, reel, and reel, O hearken;
Fain would become a streamlet,
Where as fish my lover’s swimming.”
Instantly they were both transformed. The maiden
flowed away like a brook, and the prince swam in the water like a little fish.
The spirits, rushed past, and turned after a time, and flew back home; but they
did not touch the brook or the fish. As soon as the pursuers were gone, the
brook became a maiden, and the fish a youth, and they continued their journey
in human form.
When the spirits returned, weary and empty-handed,
the Old Boy asked if they had not noticed anything unusual on their journey.
“Nothing at all,” they answered, “but a brook on
the plain, with a single fish swimming in it.”
The old man growled angrily, “There they were!
there they were!” lmmediately he threw open the doors of the fifth pen and let
out the spirits commanding them to drink up the water of the brook, and to
capture the fish; and the spirits flew off like the wind.
The travellers were just approaching the edge of a
wood, when the maiden stopped, saying, “All is not as it should be. The reel
moves again in my hand.” They looked round, and saw another cloud in the sky,
darker than the first, and with red borders. “These are our pursuers,” she
cried, and turned the reel three times round in her hand, saying:
“Hear me, reel, and reel, O hear me;
Change us bath upan the instant:
I’ll become a wild rose-briar,
And my love a rose upon it.”
Instantly the maiden was changed into a wild
rose-bush, and the youth hung upon it in the form of a rose. The spirits rushed
away over their heads, and did not return for some time; but they saw nothing
of the brook and the fish, and they did not trouble about the wild rose-tree.
As soon as their pursuers were gone, the rose-tree and the rose again became a
maiden and a youth, and after their short rest they hurried away.
“Have you found them?” cried the old man, when the
spirits returned and crouched before him.
“No,” answered their leader; “we found neither
brook nor fish on the plain.”
“Did you see nothing else remarkable on the way?”
asked their master. The leader answered, “We saw nothing but a wild rose-bush
on the edge of the wood, with a single rose upon it.” “Fools!” cried the old
man, “there they were! there they were!” He threw open the door of the seventh
pen, and sent out his most powerful spirits to search for the fugitives. “Bring
them me just as you find them, for I must have them, dead or alive. Tear up the
accursed rose-tree by the roots, and bring everything else with you that looks
strange.” And the spirits rushed forth like a tempest.
The fugitives were just resting in the shade of a
wood, and strengthening themselves for further efforts with food and drink.
Suddenly the maiden cried out, “All is not right, for the reel feels as if it
was being pulled from my bosom. We are certainly again pursued, and the danger
is close at hand, but the wood still hides us from our enemies.” Then she took
the reel from her bosom, and turned it over three times in her hand, saying:
“Hear me reel, and reel, O hear me;
To a puff of wind transform me,
To a gnat transform my lover.”
Instantly they were both transformed, and the
maiden rose into the air as a puff of wind, and the prince sported in the
breeze like a gnat. The mighty host of spirits swept over them like a tempest,
and returned some time afterwards, as they could neither find the rose-bush nor
anything else remarkable. But they were hardly gone before the youth and the
maiden resumed their proper forms, and the maiden cried out, “Now we must make
haste, before the old man himself comes to look for us, for he would know us
under any disguise.”
They ran on for some distance till they reached
the dark passage, which they could easily climb up by the bright light of the
reel. They were breathless and exhausted when they reached the great rock; when
the maiden again turned the reel three times round, saying:
“Hear me, reel, and reel, O hear me;
Let the rock aside be lifted,
And a portal opened for us.”
Instantly the rock was lifted, and they found
themselves once more upon the earth. “God be praised,” cried the maiden, “we
are saved. The Old Boy has no further power over us here, and we can guard
against his cunning. But now, my friend, we must part. Do you go to your
parents, and I will go to mine.” “By no means,” replied the prince, “I cannot
part from you, and you must come with me, and become my wife. You have passed
days of sorrow with me, and now it is only right that we should enjoy days of
happiness together.” The maiden resisted for a time, but at last she consented
to accompany the youth.
They met with a woodcutter in the wood, who told
them that there was great trouble in the palace and throughout the whole
country, because of the unaccountable disappearance of the king’s son, every
trace of whom had been lost for years. The maiden made use of the magic reel to
provide the prince with suitable robes in which to present himself to his father.
Meanwhile she stayed behind in a peasant’s cottage, till the prince should have
informed his father of his adventures.
But the old king had died before the prince’s
arrival, for trouble at the loss of his only son had shortened his life. On his
death-bed he repented bitterly of his thoughtless promise, and of his treachery
in delivering a poor innocent maiden to the old rascal, for which God had
punished him by the loss of his son. The prince mourned for the death of his
father, as befitted a good son, and buried him with great honours. Then he
mourned for three days, refusing all food and drink. On the fourth morning he
presented himself to the people as their new ruler, assembled his councillors,
and related to them the wonderful things that he had seen and experienced in
the Old Boy’s dwelling, and did not forget to say how the clever maiden had
saved his life. Then the councillors all exclaimed with one voice, “She must
become your consort and our queen.”
When the young king set out to seek his bride, he
was much surprised to meet the maiden advancing in regal state. The magic reel
had provided her with everything that was necessary, and all the people
supposed that she must be the daughter of some very wealthy king, and came from
a distant country. Then the wedding festivities commenced, which lasted four
weeks, and they lived together in happiness and prosperity for many a pleasant
year.
