{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_36465/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_36465","id":"gutenberg_36465","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36465","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's stories, Scandinavian","Short stories"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Hunter Monroe, Suzanne Shell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n[Transcriber's note: obvious typographical errors have been corrected;\nhyphenation has been regularised. Close quotes have not been added at\nthe end of paragraphs followed by more dialogue.]\n\n\n\n\n                   TOP-OF-THE-WORLD STORIES\n                      FOR BOYS AND GIRLS\n          TRANSLATED FROM THE SCANDINAVIAN LANGUAGES\n\n                              BY\n             EMILIE POULSSON AND LAURA E POULSSON\n\n                        ILLUSTRATED BY\n                     FLORENCE LILEY YOUNG\n\n              LORTHROP LEE & SHEPARD CO. BOSTON\n\n\n                   Published, August, 1916\n        Copyright, 1916, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.\n                   _All Rights Reserved_\n\n                   Top-of-the-World Stories\n\n  Norwood Press BERWICK & SMITH CO. NORWOOD, MASS. U. S. A.\n\n               _In memory of ten happy years,\n       this little book is dedicated to the children of\n           John, William, Anna, Martha, and George._\n\n\n\n\n                           PREFACE\n\n\nNot for my dear usual public of little children have I gathered these\nstories from Scandinavian authors, but for boys and girls who have\nreached a stage which warrants a rather free range in Story Land. For\nhere are to be encountered creatures and events, deeds and ideas,\nunsuited to youngest readers, but which have legitimate attraction for\nboys and girls from nine to fourteen years old--the age varying\naccording to the child's maturity and previous reading.\n\nFive of these stories were written by the noted Finnish author, Zachris\nTopelius, who wrote them, and much else, for the children of Finland and\nSweden more than fifty years ago. His loving sympathy for children, and\nhis earnest desire to write only what was wholesome and good for them,\nshine through all his literary work for the young. His \"L\u00e4sning f\u00f6r\nBarn\" (Reading for Children) in several volumes, contains stories, true\nand imaginative, poems, songs, hymns, and many charming plays for\nchildren to act. Although a Finn, Topelius wrote in the Swedish\nlanguage.\n\nBy the kind permission of Miss Margaret B\u00f6cher I have made use of her\nexcellent rendering of _Sampo Lappelil_.\n\nOf the other stories presented here, two (_The Forest Witch_ and _The\nTesting of the Two Knights_) were translated from the Danish, and one\n(_Anton's Errand, or The Boy Who Made Friends by the Way_) from the\nNorwegian.\n\nThe translations are not strictly literal, neither are they, I am sure,\nunjustifiably free. The liberty exercised consists chiefly of omission.\nFor example, in Knut Spelevink, extra incidents were omitted which\ndragged the story to a tedious length or marred it by the inartistic,\noutworn device of explaining Knut's adventures as a dream; in _The\nPrincess Lindagull_, some details of the wild-beast fight were left out;\nin _A Legend of Mercy_, a hampering husk was stripped off from the good\nseed of the quaint little story. Most of the minor changes were made\nfor the sake of smoothness and clarity.\n\nIn general, wherever I, as translator or editor, have varied from the\noriginal, I have done so to make the stories as directly appealing, as\ndelightful, and as profitable as possible, for our boys and girls.\n\n                                    EMILIE POULSSON.\n\n _Boston, Mass._\n\n\n\n\n LIST OF STORIES\n\n\n                                                         PAGE\n\n\n KNUT SPELEVINK                                            11\n\n THE PRINCESS LINDAGULL                                    39\n CHAPTER I. The Palace of Shah Nadir                       39\n CHAPTER II. The Arena                                     48\n CHAPTER III. The Captivity                                58\n CHAPTER IV. The Release                                   72\n\n SIKKU AND THE TROLLS                                      86\n\n SAMPO LAPPELIL                                           105\n\n A LEGEND OF MERCY                                        130\n\n ANTON'S ERRAND, OR THE BOY WHO MADE FRIENDS BY THE WAY   138\n\n THE FOREST WITCH                                         175\n\n THE TESTING OF THE TWO KNIGHTS                           185\n\n\n\n\n ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n It was a life-and-death race (Page 126)                _Frontispiece_\n\n                                                           FACING PAGE\n\n \"Good-day, Knut Spelevink,\" said the Snow King                     24\n\n The pine-tree raised itself high in air                            32\n\n Since Shah Nadir could refuse her nothing, he granted\n her request                                                        46\n\n In the Lapp tent                                                   60\n\n Lindagull stepped forth in the clear day                           70\n\n Out of the mist arose a slender figure                             80\n\n \"Oh, ho!\" exclaimed Sikku, recognizing her as the\n troll woman                                                        90\n\n Sampo was left lying in a snow-drift                              114\n\n On the back of the reindeer with golden horns                     126\n\n There stood the wolf and the bear                                 136\n\n The lizard lay perfectly still, listening                         146\n\n \"Turn back, turn back,\" said the dove                             158\n\n The Mayor was overwhelmed with wonder                             172\n\n Nina stood with arms around her little brother                    178\n\n Klaus brought forth his only treasure                             196\n\n\n\n\n              TOP-OF-THE-WORLD STORIES\n\n[Illustration]\n\n                      KNUT SPELEVINK[1]\n\n\nKnut was a poor orphan boy who lived with his grandmother at Perlebank\nin a little hut on the shore.\n\nHe had a shirt, a jacket, a pair of trousers and a cap; and what more\ndoes one need in summer? In winter he had woolen stockings and\nbirch-bark shoes. That wasn't so little, after all. He was\ncheerful,--always happy indeed, though always hungry. It is a great art\nto know how to be happy and hungry at the same time!\n\nHis good grandmother was so poor that she seldom had enough food for the\nboy to eat all he wanted. She spun woolen yarn and sent Knut with it to\nMr. Peterman's grand estate, The Ridge, several miles away, where he\ncould always sell the yarn. When Knut returned with the money,\nGrandmother would buy flour and bake bread. She made it in big flat\ncakes with a hole in the middle, strung these cakes on a stick and hung\nthe stick high up in the hut where the cakes would dry and harden, and\ncould be kept for a long time. If the yarn brought a good price, she\nmight even buy some sour milk, too. Potatoes they got from a tiny\nfenced-in field, no larger than the floor of a small room. Then, too,\nGrandmother owned a fish-net, so they had fresh fish sometimes,--when\nFisher Jonas's boy could help Knut to put out the net.\n\nIt was indeed seldom, however, that Knut and his grandmother were well\nsupplied with food, and the boy's little stomach often called for more;\nbut even then he was as cheerful as ever.\n\nOne morning he sat on the beach, picking up yellowish stones that looked\na little like soft, warm, boiled potatoes. Poor Knut! They would not do\nto eat, and he laughingly threw them away, but as he did so, he happened\nto see something that lay among the stones. Picking it up, he found that\nit was a little whistle or pipe made of reed, such as children often\nmake for themselves when playing on the shore. There was nothing at all\nremarkable about it, but Knut thought he would see if it gave any sound.\nGood! It really did. You could play three tones upon it,--_pa_, _py_,\nand _pu_. When Knut discovered that, he just for fun stuffed the whistle\ninto his jacket pocket.\n\nTo-day happened to be a hungry day; Knut had had no breakfast. \"Suppose\nI were sitting now in Mr. Peterman's kitchen at The Ridge,\" thought\nKnut; and at once he imagined he could smell herring being fried!\n\nWell, he must do something; so he seated himself on a big rock near the\nwater and began to fish, but the fish would not bite. There had been a\nstorm the day before, but to-day the sea shone like a mirror under the\nbright sun, and its slow heaving waves swung clear as glass against the\nshore.\n\n\"I do wonder what Grandmother has for dinner,\" thought Knut to himself.\n\nJust then a wave rolled up so high that it wet Knut's bare foot, and he\nheard a voice murmur from the wave, \"Knut, have you found the magic pipe\nthat belongs to the sea-princess? She left it on the shore and wishes\nshe could find it. You can blow three tones on it, _pa_, _py_, _pu_; and\nthey all work magic,--_pa_ makes the hearers sleep, _py_ makes the\nhearers weep, but _pu_ sets them to laughing.\"\n\n\"What?\" exclaimed Knut. \"Is it a magic pipe? Well, you may go your way,\nbig wave. I found the pipe and I think I shall keep it for a while.\"\n\nThe wave murmured something,--no one knows what,--rolled slowly away and\ndid not come back again.\n\nKnut took the pipe from his pocket and looked closely at it. \"So you are\na magic pipe, are you? And can charm, can you? Well, charm a fish on to\nmy hook, if you please.\" And with that he blew _pa_, _pa_.\n\nHe had not blown very long before a perch, then a pike, then a white\nfish floated up to the surface of the water, lying on their sides as if\nthey were asleep.\n\n\"Here are fresh fish to be had,\" thought Knut; and he continued to blow.\nIn a short time the whole surface of the water near the shore was\ncovered with floating fish, more white fish, several kinds of perches,\nsticklebacks, bream, carp, pike, and salmon,--all the lively finny\nthrong that live in the sea.\n\n\"This will be a great catch!\" thought Knut, and he sprang up to the\nhouse to get a hand-net.\n\nWhen he came back, the shore was crowded with water-birds. The sea-gulls\nwere the greediest and shrieked \"Grab! Grab! Grab!\" so that they could\nbe heard a mile away! But there were many others keeping them\ncompany,--ducks and wild geese, together with swans. All these ravenous\nvisitors were hard at work devouring the floating fish; and in the\nmidst of the throng was a great sea-eagle that had swooped down and\nseized a large salmon in his talons.\n\n\"Go away, you thieves!\" called Knut, picking up stones from the beach\nand throwing them at the birds. Some were hit in the leg, others in the\nwing, but none seemed to think of dropping his prey.\n\nJust then a shot sounded, then another and another, from a near-lying\nbay. Some of the birds fell to the water and floated, lying on their\nsides like the fish. The firing continued until all the birds had been\neither shot down or sent screaming away, scattering in every direction.\n\nA boat containing three hunters now approached the beach. The men were\nMr. Peterman and two friends of his, and it was they who had shot the\nbirds. They stepped ashore in good humor to gather up their booty.\n\n\"Why, there is Knut!\" said Mr. Peterman. \"How in the world did you get\nso many birds together here at Perlebank?\"\n\n\"I was playing on my pipe for the fish and the birds came to the party,\"\nanswered Knut, jokingly.\n\n\"Then you must certainly be a wonderfully clever player,\" said Mr.\nPeterman. \"And hereafter, your name shall be Knut Spelevink.\"[2]\n\n\"All right,\" said Knut. He had had no surname before and thought he\nmight as well have Spelevink as Anderson, S\u00f6derlund or Mattsson.\n\n\"But listen, Knut Spelevink; why do you look so poorly to-day? You are\nas thin as a rail,\" said Mr. Peterman.\n\n\"Why shouldn't I look poorly, who see all this food and have not eaten\nanything since yesterday noon?\" replied Knut, in his cheerful fashion.\n\n\"H'm,\" said Mr. Peterman. \"Well, come to The Ridge to dinner to-day,\nsince you have provided us with such a good catch. But don't come until\nfour o'clock because the birds won't be plucked and roasted before\nthat.\"\n\n\"Thank you most humbly,\" answered Knut; but he thought to himself that\nfour o'clock was rather late for any one who had eaten nothing since\nyesterday!\n\nMr. Peterman and his friends rowed away and Knut went home to his\ngrandmother.\n\n\"Well, Knut, have you seen any fish to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! I've seen plenty; but the birds ate the fish and Mr. Peterman\nshot the birds.\"\n\n\"Too bad, Knut. We have nothing for dinner but two herring, four little\npotatoes and a half-slice of bread.\"\n\n\"No matter, Grandmother; you eat that. I am invited to The Ridge for\ndinner and I shall bring you a bit of cheese in my pocket if I can.\"\n\n\"Don't take the short cut through Kiikkala Forest, Knut; there are elves\nthere, and three troll-kings,--the Mountain King, the Snow King and the\nForest King. Go, rather, along the shore,--that way is safer; only there\nyou must look out for the mermaids.\"\n\n\"But it is a long way around by the shore, Grandmother, and I haven't\nhad anything to eat since yesterday.\"\n\n\"Well, go whichever way you will then, but don't think about food. That\nleads one into temptation.\"\n\n\"No, Grandmother. I shall think about the next Catechism examination,\nand study hard as I go along.\"\n\nKnut started on his way, thinking about the Catechism, but when he came\nto the beginning of the short cut, he thought: \"Surely I should be a\ngoose if I, with such an empty stomach, should walk seven miles instead\nof half that.\"\n\nAnd so he turned off into the short cut through Kiikkala Forest and\ndetermined to hear himself say the Catechism while he was going through\nthe woods.\n\nHe had not gone far before he saw a thin little old man, dragging a cart\nloaded with twelve iron bars.\n\n\"Good-day, Knut Spelevink,\" said the old man. \"Why do you look so poorly\nto-day?\"\n\n\"Why shouldn't I look poorly, when I have eaten nothing but Catechism\nsince yesterday noon? But how did you know my new name?\"\n\n\"I know all names,\" answered the old man, who was really a troll.\n\n\"Sha'n't I help you?\" asked good-natured Knut. \"You are all out of\nbreath with that heavy load.\"\n\n\"Push away if you like, Spelevink.\" So Knut pushed, and the old man\npulled and they soon came to a big mountain in the forest.\n\n\"This is where I live,\" said the old man. \"Step in and I will give you\nsomething good to eat, because you helped me with my load.\" So saying,\nhe entered the mountain. Knut's stomach said follow him, and Knut\nfollowed.\n\nSoon they were in a great underground palace where everything glittered\nwith gold, silver and precious stones.\n\n\"Do you live here?\" asked Knut.\n\n\"I should say I did,\" replied the old man. \"I am the King of the\nMountain. To-morrow I give the marriage feast for my daughter; and my\nservants are so driven with work that I myself had to bring my food from\nthe forge where these bars are made.\"\n\n\"Wasn't that iron in the cart?\" asked Knut.\n\n\"Bar iron, my lad, bar iron of the best sort. That is something far\nfiner than simple iron ore. Bar iron is my favorite food, especially\nwhen it is at white heat. Have you ever eaten bar iron?\"\n\n\"Not that I can remember,\" said Knut.\n\n\"Then you shall be allowed to taste something extra fine for once. See,\nI lay two bars in the hot furnace fire. In three minutes they will be at\nwhite heat, and you shall creep into the furnace and eat of them\nhot,--fresh cooked!\"\n\n\"Thank you very much,\" said Knut. \"But give me rather a bit of bread and\na bowl of sour milk.\"\n\n\"Oh, come now! You don't know what is good! Get into the furnace there.\nBe quick! The iron is red hot already.\"\n\n\"I believe you!\" said Knut. \"It is almost too hot for me.\"\n\n\"What nonsense!\" growled the old troll. And he tried with all his might\nto thrust Knut into the furnace.\n\nBut the one who took to his heels at that instant was Knut. He ran for\ndear life, was lucky enough to find the outside door and was soon again\non the forest path.\n\n\"Grandmother was right,\" thought Knut. \"I really must hear myself the\nCatechism and keep my mind on it.\"\n\nWhile Knut was thinking of one of the long explanations following the\noft-recurring question, \"What does that mean?\" he suddenly felt very\ncold. The cause was soon evident, for behold! although it was summer,\nthere, at a turn in the path, stood a snow mountain!\n\n\"This is remarkable,\" thought Knut. \"How does any one here ever get warm\nfood?\"\n\nWith these words he climbed up on the snow, Catechism forgotten and\nthoughts of food uppermost in his mind; and at once he tumbled down\ninto a deep hole, and found himself in a magnificent palace of\nglittering ice. Starlight and moonlight illuminated it. All the great\nrooms were ornamented with shining ice-mirrors, all the floors were\nstrewn with diamonds of hoar frost. Clumsy snow men rolled about on\ntheir stomachs over the floor. Presently one stood upright. He was a\nlong-bodied stiff creature, with icicles in his hair, icicles in his\nbeard, a robe of thin sheet-ice, and shoes of frozen berry-juice.\n\n\"Good-day, Knut Spelevink,\" said the Snow King. \"Why do you look so\npoorly to-day?\"\n\n\"Why shouldn't I look poorly when I have had nothing but Catechism and\nbar iron to eat since yesterday noon?\" said Knut with chattering teeth.\n\n\"You are too hot, young man, you are too hot,--that is what is the\nmatter with you. I am the Snow King and I bring up all my subjects to be\nice-clad--turn them into regular lumps of ice,--and I will do the same\nfor you. Chief Officer of the Snow Knights, dip this boy seven times in\nice-cold water, hang him on a hook and let him freeze.\"\n\n\"No,--thank you,--wait a little,\" suggested Knut. \"Give me instead a mug\nof hot posset. I am already a lump of ice!\"\n\n\"Chief Officer of the Snow Knights, give him a bit of frozen\nquicksilver, and a mug of chipped ice before you dip him,\" ordered the\nSnow King.\n\nKnut wanted to run away but it was already too late. The Chief Officer\nhad grabbed him by the collar, and it would have been all over with Knut\nif he had not chanced to get hold of his magic pipe. Knowing that there\nwas not another thing he could do to try to save himself but to blow on\nhis pipe, blow he did, right lustily; and this time the sound was\n_pu_, _pu_.\n\nInstantly the long-bodied troll's features were distorted by a grin that\nshould have represented merriment, but he was far from merry. He was\nboiling with rage over the resistless desire to laugh that unexpectedly\ntook possession of him. He laughed and laughed; yes, he laughed so\nhard that the icicles fell from his hair and chin, his knees doubled\nunder him, and at last his very head burst into bits! All the snow men\nlaughed so violently that they, too, fell to pieces; the Chief Officer\nsank to the floor, becoming only a pool of mushy, dirty water. The\nice-mirrors broke into small fragments and the whole palace changed into\na wild whirl of snow!\n\n[Illustration: \"GOOD-DAY, KNUT SPELEVINK,\" SAID THE SNOW KING.--_Page 25_.]\n\nKnut himself was so overcome by laughter that it was only by the\nstrongest effort he could hold his lips together on the pipe and keep on\nblowing.\n\nWhile the snow still whirled about him, he suddenly noticed that he was\nagain upon the forest path. And lo! the next instant the air cleared,\nthe last of the snow disappeared in swift-running streams, and summer,\nhigh summer, ruled once more.\n\n\"Now I _will_ look out for myself,\" thought Knut as he tramped steadily\nforward; and he began again to pick out from his memory an answer to\nthe question, \"What does that mean?\"\n\nHe had not walked far before he found himself beside the most beautiful\nlittle wooded hill, where strawberries gleamed red all through the\ngrass. It could not be dangerous to pick a few strawberries to eat, when\none was not to have dinner until four o'clock in the afternoon, thought\nhungry Knut; and he climbed a little way up the hill.\n\nNo sooner was he there than he saw that what he had taken for\nstrawberries was nothing else than many thousand charming little elves\nin red clothing. They were no taller than a strawberry stem, and were\ndancing merrily around a green hillock upon which sat their queen who\nwas about three inches tall.\n\n\"Good-day, Knut Spelevink,\" said the elf-queen. \"Why do you look so\npoorly to-day?\"\n\n\"Why shouldn't I look poorly when I have had nothing to eat since\nyesterday noon except Catechism and bar iron and frozen quicksilver? I\nthought that you people were strawberries.\"\n\n\"Poor thing, he is hungry,\" said the queen to her lady-in-waiting. \"Give\nhim a dewdrop and the leg of a gnat so that he may for once eat until he\nis really satisfied.\"\n\n\"Thank you very much,\" answered Knut. \"But might I perhaps have a dish\nof berries and a pail of milk instead?\"\n\n\"What coarseness!\" said the elf-queen, highly disgusted with such a\ngluttonous appetite. \"Do you know, you human child, that you came into\nour kingdom without a pass, and that you trod to death three and thirty\nof our faithful subjects so that there is nothing left of them but a red\nstain? And you have refused our gracious offer of food and shown\nyourself to be disgustingly greedy, besides. Forest spinners of our\ncourt, do your duty.\"\n\nScarcely were the words spoken before a legion of long-legged spiders\nswung down from the trees and began to spin around Knut a network of\ncountless fine threads. Knut did not relish this, and thought it a very\npoor joke. He beat away the webspinners, and tried to return to the\nforest path, but could not stir from the spot. His feet were tangled in\nan all too strong net, his arms were glued to his sides, his eyes even\nwere plastered shut, and at last down he fell in the grass.\n\nHe could see nothing but he could hear how the whole hill rang with\nlaughter; the elves formed a ring around him, danced over him, nipped\nhim on the cheeks like gnats, and were beside themselves with joy over\ntheir comical trick.\n\n\"Lie there and starve until you can be satisfied with a dewdrop and a\ngnat leg,\" said the elves.\n\nKnut fell to pleading with them. \"Listen now, little elves,\" said he. \"I\nshall be content if I may bite on a small piece of reed I have in my\njacket pocket. Will not some of you be so good as to stick it into my\nmouth?\"\n\nThe elves thought it would be inexpressibly amusing to see this greedy\nhuman child eat a piece of reed; so four of them climbed into his jacket\npocket and with their united strength drew forth the magic pipe, which,\nwith great effort, they succeeded in putting into his mouth. Thereupon\nthey danced more merrily than ever around and over him, and the hill\nresounded with their delicate laughter. It was like the humming of a\nmillion swarms of gnats.\n\nKnut no sooner felt the pipe between his lips than he began to blow; and\nthis time the tone was _py_, _py_. At once the merry laughter came\nto an end, and sobbing was heard from every direction,--a sound as of a\nhundred thousand sobbing together, not unlike what one hears in summer\nwhen the beating rain lashes the hill.\n\nKnut could not see, but he knew that the elves were crying and he felt\nthat it was a sin, no matter what they had done, to make such merry\ncreatures sob so grievously.\n\n\"Set me free and you shall laugh again,\" said Knut to the weeping elves.\n\nNow it is the elves' greatest joy to laugh. Indeed, they laugh away\ntheir short lives in the summer evenings knowing nothing of sorrow.\n\nAt Knut's words, hundreds of elves began immediately to chase away the\nspiders, and to set free the prisoner, loosening his arms and his legs,\nand unplastering his eyelids. Knut could now see his tiny enemies and\nhis anger rose again, so that he blew _py_ once more. Oh, how the\npoor little creatures grimaced and trembled! They wished so much to\nlaugh and yet they must weep because of that frightful _py_!\n\nKnut had not the heart to tease them any longer. He changed the note to\n_pu_ and the elves became almost crazy with joy. They leaped so high\nin the air that they nearly overtook the larks, and as they came down,\nsome of them alighted upon Knut and he had to shake them off. He did not\nnotice that one elf had fallen into his pocket and remained there.\n\n\"Good-bye, little elves,\" said Knut as he hastily set off again on his\nway through the forest.\n\n\"I must watch out well for that other troll, the Forest King,\" thought\nKnut. \"He is said to be the worst of all. Where was I in the Catechism?\nOh, yes. 'What does that mean?'\"\n\nAfter a while Knut came to a swamp at the roadside where cloudberries\ngrew in profusion.\n\n\"It can't be wrong to pick a few of these berries as I pass by, since I\nsha'n't have any food until four o'clock this afternoon,\" thought Knut.\nTo reach the swamp he had to climb over a huge fallen pine-tree, which\nlay in the way. Scarcely did he find himself clambering across its\ngnarly trunk and thick close branches than the pine-tree, to Knut's\ngreat fright, raised itself high in air, and roared with a gruff voice:\n\n\"Good-day, Knut Spelevink. Why do you look so poorly to-day?\"\n\nKnut, hanging over the road in the pine-tree's top, still found courage\nto answer:\n\n\"Why shouldn't I look poorly when I have had nothing to eat since\nyesterday noon except Catechism, and bar iron, and frozen quicksilver\nand a gnat's leg?\"\n\n\"Well, why did you interrupt my midday nap?\" asked the pine-tree. \"Don't\nyou know that I am the King of the Forest and rule over all the trees\nand swamps for seven times seven miles around! Here you see my palace.\nHaven't I a fine place to live in?\"\n\nKnut saw nothing but a bleak wilderness, so did not answer the question\nbut ventured to inquire most humbly if he might not get down and pick\nsome cloudberries to eat.\n\n\"What is that? Cloudberries?\" roared the Forest King. \"Take a fir-tree\nfor a ladle and ladle into yourself seven cartloads of swamp mud. That\nis what I call a regular meal. It is my favorite food.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you would give me one load of apple marmalade, and a moderately\nbig ditch full of wild honey instead!\" suggested merry Knut.\n\n\"Apple marmalade? Humph! I shall make marmalade of you for disturbing me\nin my nap. My Lord Eagle, I give the boy to you. You can tear him into\nScotch collops for your young ones.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE PINE-TREE RAISED ITSELF HIGH IN AIR.--_Page 31_.]\n\nKnut now became aware of an enormous eagle sitting in the top of the\ntree and staring at him with ravenous eyes. He could not jump down, for\nthe pine-tree held him fast by his arms and legs. He should soon be torn\ninto Scotch collops.\n\nKnut Spelevink had never eaten collops, but however much he liked food,\nit seemed unbearable that he himself should become food for eagles.\n\nThe situation was indeed dangerous, but at this critical moment Knut\nfelt something light as a flower creeping up his arm, up to his jacket\ncollar, then to his chin and finally to his mouth. It was the little elf\nthat had hidden in Knut's pocket, and was now creeping along and, with\nincredible difficulty, dragging after him the magic pipe which was seven\ntimes as long as himself.\n\n\"Blow!\" said the elf.\n\nKnut felt the pipe in his mouth and began to blow with a will. This time\nthe tone was again _pa_.\n\nThe Forest King yawned, stretched out his branches, and mumbled\nsomething about having been disturbed in his midday nap. Then he threw\nhimself down at full length beside the swamp, and in his fall crushed\nbeneath his huge trunk the big ravenous eagle which the magic pipe had\nmade too drowsy to fly away.\n\nAs Knut crept from among the branches, he heard a snoring through the\nforest as loud as if a hundred bears were growling their best for a\nwager; and he again took to his heels as nimbly as he could.\n\n\"I must certainly look out,\" thought Knut. \"It is indeed dangerous here\nin the forest.\"\n\nWithout stopping for cloudberries or anything else, he continued to run\nand run while he could, but it was not easy, and by and by he had to\nwalk slowly for the path was almost overgrown. The bramble-bushes seemed\nto have a spite against his trousers, tree branches caught hold of his\njacket, and clung fast to it; the heather and the twigs of the\nblueberry-bushes pricked his bare feet But to The Ridge he meant to get\nand to The Ridge he did get without further adventure, arriving,--tired,\nhungry and blowsy,--at precisely four o'clock in the afternoon.\n\n\"Welcome, Knut Spelevink,\" said Mr. Peterman. \"You look right cheerful\nthis afternoon!\"\n\n\"Why shouldn't I look cheerful when I have been offered feasts of hot\nbar iron, frozen quicksilver, a dewdrop and a gnat's leg, and seven\ncartloads of mud?\" laughed Knut.\n\n\"Why, that is a good many courses for one day,\" said Mr. Peterman. \"One\nought not to think much about food. When any one constantly thinks of\nwhat he can get to eat, he is in danger of encountering trolls and such\nlike, who only fool him. But perhaps you are hungry, my boy?\"\n\nKnut blinked in embarrassment, squeezed his cap between his hands and\nsaid that he was not yet exactly starved to death.\n\n\"Now that rejoices me!\" exclaimed Mr. Peterman. \"I ate a late breakfast\nand the servants have not yet had time to pluck all the birds. You just\nwait until eight o'clock and then you shall have some supper.\"\n\nThis was worse than hot bar iron and seven cartloads of mud, Knut\nthought; but he bit his nails and answered that he could wait, of\ncourse, adding to himself, however, \"I had better say the Catechism over\nagain to pass the time.\"\n\nNow this Mr. Peterman was a great joker and was only teasing Knut. He\nhad himself been a poor boy and knew well enough what it meant, when\nfamished, to wait four hours more for food.\n\n\"Knut Spelevink,\" said he, \"I perceive that you can do more than think\nabout things to eat. Do you realize that conquering one's self and being\nable to give up, even to the very necessities of life, what one craves\nhere in this world is a kind of heroism? You can conquer yourself like a\nhero and keep your merry humor through everything. I like you, my boy,\nand I am sure you will make a fine man if you have enough to eat and go\nto school as I mean you shall; for I am going to look after you from\nthis time on.\n\n\"But what does that mean?\" continued Mr. Peterman, sniffing. \"It seems\nto me I smell roast bird! Walk in, my boy. You shall sit with me, at my\nown table, and for once in your life eat all you want.\"\n\nWhen Mr. Peterman said \"What does that mean?\" Knut thought it sounded as\nif catechising were going to begin; but the door to the dining-room was\nthrown open at that moment, and there stood a dinner-table laden with\nsmoking-hot savory food awaiting the hungry guests.\n\nMr. Peterman led Knut in by the hand and Knut sat at the table like a\nlord; and there he might have been sitting yet if he had not long since\ncarried home the promised piece of cheese to his grandmother, and been\nsent to school.\n\nAs for the magic pipe, he had used that three times and once more, and\nit had served him well in Kiikkala Forest; but try as he might he could\nnever again get the magic tones from it, and one day he lost it. The\nCatechism, however, stayed in his mind, and Knut could recite it from\nend to end any time he was asked.\n\n                                                  --_Z. Topelius_.\n\n[1] Pronounced K'nut Spa-le-veenk.\n\n[2] \"Spelevink\" may be translated \"Merrymouth.\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                  THE PRINCESS LINDAGULL[3]\n\n\n_Come, boys and girls, let us fly on the wings of the wind to the land\nof a thousand tales, to the home of roses and tulips! to the land where\nbeautiful fairies build their castles in the red sunrise, and black\ngnomes flit around in the darkness of midnight; where the sun shines\nlike fire over the blue mountains in Afghanistan, and the quiet\nwater-lilies are reflected in the deep lakes; where tigers' eyes gleam\nbetween the reeds by the shore, and where sun-browned, dark-eyed people\nglow with hate and burn with love. Let us fly to Persia!_\n\n\n\n\n                          CHAPTER I\n\n                   THE PALACE OF SHAH NADIR\n\n\nThere was once a Persian king whose name was Shah Nadir, and who was\nexceedingly rich. Large and beautiful countries with many millions of\npeople were under his sway. Great rooms in his palace were filled with\ngold and precious stones; and his ships, laden with the riches of India,\nsailed over every sea. When he appeared in his capital city, Ispahan, he\nwas surrounded by a life guard of a thousand men dressed in silver armor\nwhich glistened in the sun; and fifty thousand knights on most beautiful\nhorses, with golden saddles and harnesses glittering with jewels, stood\nready to speed away and conquer the world at his bidding.\n\nBut the mighty Shah Nadir was old and had no longer any desire for war\nand conquest. He had won many battles; many hostile cities had perished\nin ashes before his wrath; and many, many a knight had been pierced\nthrough by his sword in the days when his arm was young and none could\nwithstand him.\n\nBut now he was old and weary, and liked best to recline on the luxurious\npurple divans of his gorgeous palace. Occasionally, however, when\ngolden-edged clouds shielded the burning Persian sun, and a delightful\nbreeze blew down from Mt. Zagrosch, the old Shah would seat himself in\nhis richly ornamented palanquin borne by eight black slaves clad in\nsilver tissue, and allow himself to be carried out that he might review\nhis troops or watch the wild animals fighting in the arena.\n\nShah Nadir had many sons, because he had also many wives, as is the\ncustom in eastern lands; but his sons brought him little joy. They were\nthankless and full of selfish ambition, thinking that their father lived\ntoo long, and plotting against his life and his throne. Therefore the\nking drove them all away from his court to distant provinces which they\nruled over as viceroys. But he kept at home with himself his dear and\nonly daughter, the Princess Lindagull, because he loved her more than\nall else on earth,--yes, more than all his treasures and all his riches.\n\nNow it is well known that such a name as \"Lindagull\" had never before\nbeen heard in Persia, nor could it indeed be rightly pronounced by the\nPersians. The mother of the princess had come from the far North, no one\nknew exactly whence. She had been captured in her youth by African\npirates, and after many adventures had been sold to the king of Persia,\nwho, on account of her extreme beauty, took her in wedlock and loved her\nmore than all his other wives.\n\nThis beautiful sultana, who was now dead, had called her only daughter\n\"Lindagull,\" signifying that the princess was as lovely and pure as the\ngold of the sun, shimmering through the lindens of the North.\n\nAnd it is true that a more beautiful or purer being could not be found\nif you searched the wide world over than the Princess Lindagull. She had\nthe royal bearing of her father; but in form and disposition she was\nlike her mother. With a complexion as dazzling as Scandinavian snow and\neyes as soft as August stars on a moonless night, she had also a heart\nnoble, tender and good; and so there was no one in Shah Nadir's whole\nkingdom who did not love the Princess Lindagull; for the fame of her\nbeauty and goodness had spread through all Persia. This the old king\nknew full well, and his proud heart melted like wax every time he looked\nupon his lovely child. She was the delight of his eyes;--his comfort by\nday, his dream by night. One word of hers could quell his highest rage.\nHe could not refuse her any request, even to the freedom of a slave.\n\nWhen Shah Nadir thought upon his sons with their evil hearts, and of the\ntrouble which they had made in the kingdom, he decided that none of them\nwas fit for succession to his throne; and he made up his mind to choose\nfor his daughter some good and noble man as a husband, and to leave to\nher and her descendants the inheritance of his riches and his kingdom.\n\nThe fatherly affection of Shah Nadir for the Princess Lindagull was\nright and beautiful; but he fell into the great error of allowing it to\ndisplace other loves and to lead him away from his duties to his\nsubjects. So a heavy punishment came upon him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNo one could live in a more magnificent and delightful manner than did\nthe Princess Lindagull. In a cool grove, under the shadow of high\npalm-trees, amid the music of rippling fountains and surrounded by the\nfragrance of a thousand flowers, stood the princess's lovely castle. In\nits lofty apartments the sunbeams broke through windows of limpid\nrock-crystal. The princess rested on the most elegant couch at night;\nand when morning came she was led by her attendant ladies to bathe in a\ngrand basin of mother-of-pearl into which a fountain poured forth its\nwaters and made a deep pool, the water playfully rippling around her\ndelicate figure as she bathed.\n\nIn the daytime she wrought exquisite embroideries with her maidens, or\nlistened to the songs of the birds or the music of the zither, or\nwandered in the grove, playing like a child with the yellow butterflies\nand dark red roses.\n\nThe Princess Lindagull was not more than twelve years old; but in the\nEastern countries twelve years makes one appear as old as sixteen in\nNorthern countries.\n\nIt is not a good thing to live constantly in luxury, and to see one's\nwishes fulfilled \"at the least wink\" as were those of Princess\nLindagull. Many persons become proud and wilful under these\ncircumstances; but this little princess did not. She merely became\nlow-spirited. She did not know why it was, but the playing of the\nbutterflies, the fragrance of the flowers, the rippling of the waters,\nand the zither's sweet sounds pleased her no more. She realized that her\nheart was often empty, and noticed with surprise that she often had a\ndesire to weep. She could not understand it at all, and still less could\nher ladies. She did not know, this little Lindagull, that as a dark\nframe enhances many a picture, so trial and sorrow give one's happy days\nan added luster. With pleasures and naught but pleasures in her life,\nhappiness was slipping from her. She must experience sorrow before she\ncould know true joy.\n\nNevertheless, the princess believed that she had discovered the reason\nof her longings. It must be because she had always lived in the\nseclusion of her palace. She determined to go out, at least for once,\ninto the rush and whirl of human life; and so, when her father next came\nto visit her, she asked that she might be allowed to see the great\nexhibition of wild beasts soon to be held at Ispahan in honor of the\nking's sixtieth birthday. Since Shah Nadir could refuse her nothing, he\ngranted her request; realizing, however, that it was the first time he\nhad ever done so with absolute unwillingness.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSuch a conqueror as Shah Nadir, to whom half Asia paid tribute, could\nnot fail to have many enemies. This, however, troubled him but little,\nbecause he had long held them in complete subjection.\n\nOne of these enemies had fallen under the personal dislike of the king;\nand in addition to the usual ceremonies of submission Shah Nadir had\nrequired the captive foe to suffer one of the greatest indignities of\nthe East,--that is, the shaving of his beard. Having thus contributed to\nthe king's vindictive amusement, the captive was set free.\n\n[Illustration: SINCE SHAH NADIR COULD REFUSE HER NOTHING, HE GRANTED HER\nREQUEST.--_Page 43_.]\n\nThis man was king of the giants in Turan (that vast, wild region of rock\nand desert north of Persia) and his name was Bom Bali. Once, when\nwarring in the far, far North, Bom Bali had captured a wizard named\nHirmu who could change himself into any animal whatever, and afterward\nresume his own natural shape.\n\nNow when Bom Bali learned through his spies that a grand exhibition of\nwild beasts was to be held in Ispahan, he summoned Hirmu into his\npresence and said to him:\n\n\"Dog, dost thou wish to live?\"\n\nHirmu answered, \"My lord, may thy beard never grow less! Thou knowest\nthat thy dog desires greatly to live.\"\n\nBom Bali said, \"The first day of the month Moharrem there is to be an\nexhibition of wild beasts in Ispahan. Shah Nadir has sent his hunters\ninto every mountain, even to mountains in our kingdom, to ensnare\nfierce creatures for the contests. Take upon thyself the form of a\ntiger. Be thou captured by the hunters. Steal and bring back to me the\nPrincess Lindagull who is the pride of Shah Nadir and of all Asia.\"\n\n\"Thy hound shall fulfil all thy commands,\" said the Lappish wizard.\n\nSoon after this conversation, the Persian hunters came to Turan,\ncaptured alive all the wild beasts they could from its mountains and\ndeserts, and carried them in strong cages back to Ispahan.\n\n[3] Pronounced Lin'dah-gool.\n\n\n\n\n                          CHAPTER II\n\n                          THE ARENA\n\n\nThe first day of the month Moharrem had now arrived and the arrangements\nhad all been completed in the capital city. Many of the most dangerous\nand terrible wild animals from India, Arabia, Turan, and even from the\nDesert of Sahara, were held in readiness in the side rooms or stalls of\nthe immense semi-circular arena which had been especially built for\nthis occasion. More than sixty thousand spectators were seated on the\nnumerous tiers of seats stretching all around the arena. For the safety\nof these a strong iron railing had been erected between the benches and\nthe fighting-ground.\n\nEarly in the morning the whole town was in excitement. Princess\nLindagull was as happy as a child. She was going to be allowed to fly as\na bird out of its cage! She was going to see a play wherein the actors\nwere real lions, real tigers;--not like those represented by men dressed\nin skins which they took off after they had finished the play.\n\nThe spectators were assembled and all things awaited the arrival of the\nking. At last he came, followed by his shining guard; and not he alone,\nbut with him his daughter, the wondrously beautiful Princess Lindagull.\nAccording to the custom in Eastern lands she was veiled. The people\ncould only admire her charming manners and royal carriage as she,\nfollowed by her attendants, rode in upon a little zebra which caprioled\nwith pride at bearing such a burden.\n\nAlthough no one could see her countenance every one knew by hearsay the\nloveliness of the young princess. All knew, too, that she by her\nintercession had saved the life of many an unhappy captive, and that she\neach day sent out her maidens with medicine and bread for the poor in\nIspahan. Therefore, when she now for the first time showed herself\nbefore the populace, there broke forth such a shout of joy from\nthousands of voices that its like had not been heard since the day when\nShah Nadir celebrated his Day of Triumph after his grand conquest, with\ntwenty captive kings in his train.\n\nIt is probable that the princess blushed; but no one saw it. She seated\nherself beside her father on the richly embroidered purple robe which\nwas spread over the royal bench. And then began the exercises of the\nday.\n\nA strange strife between a wildcat and a pelican came first. One of the\npelican's wings had been clipped so that it could not fly away, and\nthough it fought fiercely, thrusting its beak into the cat's side, the\nwildcat scratched and bit the big bird so savagely that the end soon\ncame and the cat was declared the winner in the fight. Almost every one\nthought this contest very entertaining, but the Princess Lindagull did\nnot like it at all.\n\nAfter this, two monstrous crocodiles were brought forth in long tanks of\nwater, and a dead pig was thrown out in front of them. The crocodiles\nhad not had meat for a whole month and were very hungry. Nevertheless,\nso sleepy were they that they continued to lie still in the tanks,\nwarming themselves in the sun. Then a boy sprang boldly forward and\ntickled one of the crocodiles on the nose with a switch. The crocodile\nthrust up his ugly mouth and began to clamber clumsily out of the tank\nto devour the boy. But the boy saved himself by jumping hastily aside,\nthe crocodile not being able to turn quickly enough to catch him. When\nthe boy had thoroughly roused this crocodile he awoke the one in the\nother tank; and then, swift as a gazelle, escaped through a little gate\nin the fence. Soon the crocodiles caught sight of the dead pig and both\nstarted forward to seize it. Falling into a rage at the idea of sharing\nit, they fell upon each other in a frightful contest. Each tried to\nforce his sharp teeth through the scaly skin of the other, but without\nsuccess. At last, however, one fell on its back, and the conqueror\nmounted its breast and got the pig.\n\nNext followed a strife between six large Arabian dogs and an equal\nnumber of jackals from the deserts of Turan. These two animals both\nbelong to the wolf family and though the jackal is a cowardly creature,\nhe is formidable when once engaged in a fray. This conflict was fierce\nindeed. Five dogs lay prone upon the ground and only one jackal had\nfallen when a whistling was heard from the bench where sat the brave\nyoung Arab prince Abderraman. He whistled to incite his favorite hound,\nValledivau, to further effort. The dog heard his master's voice and\ntackled again. The jackals fell, one after another, before his prowess,\nand soon Valledivau was greeted with a loud cheer as conqueror.\n\nThen came a fight between hyenas and wolves; another between an Indian\nelephant and a tiger; and then a leopard and a panther were led to\nopposite sides of the arena. A piece of fresh meat was thrown down\nbefore them, and immediately both rushed toward it and fought for its\npossession. But the panther, which was stronger and more agile, came off\nvictor, having covered his adversary with deadly wounds.\n\nThis contest being finished, a royal tiger of unusual strength and\nbeauty was brought forth. He was called Ahriman, after the Prince of\nDarkness. The tiger's adversary was an immense lion, called Ormuz, after\nthe Prince of Light. A living lamb was cast down before the two, but\nthis was more than Lindagull could endure. She gave a sign and the\ntrembling little creature was snatched away; and in its stead one of the\ndead dogs was cast before the wild animals.\n\nThe lion was hungry and immediately rushed upon the prey. The tiger,\njealous by nature, also darted forward furiously, eager to deprive the\nlion and to get the prey for himself.\n\nThis was the most terrible contest of all. The air echoed the dreadful\nroaring of the angry beasts, the sand was thrown up by their paws and\ncolored red with their blood.\n\nThey fell over each other, they separated, they rushed against each\nother again. All the spectators trembled, entranced. Long was the strife\nundecided, but the tiger Ahriman finally succumbed and Ormuz was led\nfrom the arena in triumph.\n\nAnd now the performances were about to close with a grand strife en\nmasse, every wild animal taking part. But the heat of the sun being\nintense, there was a cessation in the sports, so that the spectators\nmight refresh themselves with cooling drinks. Many then went down upon\nthe arena to look at the dead animals which had been left there.\n\nEven the Princess Lindagull became curious to view the animals at a\nnearer point. She, who until now had seen only blossoms and singing\nbirds, had no idea of the aspect of these dead creatures. So down she\nwent, followed by her ladies and the guard, into the arena; and slaves\nspread gold-embroidered mats before her feet, so that her dainty sandals\nshould not be soiled by the blood-stained sands.\n\nWhat could she fear? All the living animals were shut up in safe cages.\nThe most dangerous of all, the great tiger Ahriman, lay dead upon the\narena. The princess went toward him, admiring his beauty and marveling\nat his splendid striped skin which she determined to ask her father for,\nthat she might use it as a rug in the marble castle.\n\nSuddenly the tiger rose up, gave a leap, sprang upon the princess,\nseized her in his terrible jaws, and rushed away! Shrieks of horror flew\nfrom tier to tier among the spectators, but no one had the courage to\ntry to snatch his booty from the tiger.\n\nNo one? Ah, one there was! The valiant Prince Abderraman dashed with the\nspeed of the wind into the tiger's path, grasped the monster's gory\nbreast and struggled with him for his precious booty.\n\nAlas, unhappy prince! His right arm was in an instant bitten almost off\nby the tiger, and he was thrown bleeding and helpless upon the sand; and\nbefore any one could come to the aid of the vanquished hero, the tiger\nhad leaped over the high iron railing and escaped with the Princess\nLindagull in his mighty jaws!\n\nThe anguish of poor old Shah Nadir was great; and great was the grief of\nall Ispahan,--indeed, of all Persia. The king's guard and the fifty\nthousand knights with gold saddles rode immediately away to seek the\nprincess. They searched through every bush and cleft in Turan where a\ntiger's lair might be. Hundreds of tigers and other wild beasts fell\nbefore their spears, but fruitlessly. After looking through all Turan\nand half of Asia, the guard returned sorrowing. No trace of the Princess\nor her strange captor was to be found.\n\nShah Nadir tore his gray hair and cursed his sixtieth birthday. He had\nlost what he held dearest on earth,--his Lindagull. He ordered his\npeople to array themselves in mourning as if a sultana had died. He also\ncommanded that prayers should be offered in all the mosques for the\nPrincess Lindagull's return. And the proclamation was made that whoever\nrestored his daughter to him, living, should receive the hand of the\nprincess and inherit the Persian crown; whoever brought her back dead\nshould receive as a reward sixty asses laden with gold and costly\ntreasure. The hope of so rich a reward led many princes and noblemen to\nundertake the search for the lost daughter of the king. But sooner or\nlater all came back without having found her. All except one; and that\nwas Prince Abderraman. He had made a solemn vow to seek for the princess\nfifteen years; to find and rescue her, or die.\n\nIf the princess had been carried away by a real tiger, our tale would\nhave ended with that; because nothing is sacred to a royal tiger, not\neven the noblest princess in the world. But this was not the case. The\nwizard, Hirmu, had availed himself of the exhibition of wild beasts in\norder that, transformed into a tiger, he might carry out his master's\ncommands for his own advantage. He had exchanged hearts with the tiger;\nand so long as the heart was not destroyed or eaten up, Hirmu could not\nbe killed. But such a treasure as a princess he preferred to keep for\nhimself; so, instead of taking his captive to old King Bom Bali in\nTuran, he carried her away, with flying leaps, to his own far-away home\nin Lapland.\n\n\n\n\n                         CHAPTER III\n\n                        THE CAPTIVITY\n\n\nIt was now autumn, and dark in Lapland.\n\nThe Lapp woman, Pimpedora, sat and cooked porridge over a blazing fire\nin the tent, while her son Pimpepanturi sat waiting for the porridge and\nlooking idly at his reindeer shoes. Pimpepanturi was a good-natured boy;\nbut he was stupid, and not a little lazy besides. His father, Hirmu,\nhad wished very much to bring him up as a wizard, but it was of no use.\nPimpepanturi thought more about eating and drinking than of learning\nanything,--whether sorcery or what not.\n\nThe Lapp woman turned toward the boy, and said, \"Don't you hear\nsomething?\"\n\n\"I hear the fire crackle and the porridge bubble in the pot,\" answered\nPimpepanturi with a long yawn.\n\n\"Don't you hear something like a roar out in the autumn night?\" asked\nthe Lapp woman again.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Pimpepanturi; \"that is a wolf taking some of our reindeer.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the Lapp woman; \"that is Father coming back. He has now been\naway four winters, but I hear him growling like a wild animal. He must\nhave hurried to have reached home so soon again!\"\n\nAt that moment Hirmu entered in the semblance of a tiger with the\nPrincess Lindagull hanging from his mouth. Placing her on a heap of moss\nin the corner of the tent, he quickly regained his own body (replacing\nhis own heart in it now), at the same time calling out, \"Mother, what\nfood have you? I have run a long way.\"\n\nThe tiger fell dead upon the moss in the tent. The Lapp woman had nearly\nfallen into the porridge-pot from fright; but she recognized her husband\nand promised him a good supper, if he would tell her where he had been\nthese four winters, and what kind of a grand doll he had brought home\nwith him.\n\n\"That is too long a story to tell,\" grumbled the husband. \"Take care of\nour grand doll and give her warm reindeer milk to restore her to life.\nShe is a fine young lady from Persia. She will bring us good fortune.\"\n\nPrincess Lindagull was not dead,--not even wounded. She had only fainted\nfrom fright. When she awoke she lay (in her rich clothing of pearls and\nsilver tissue) on a reindeer skin spread over moss, in the Lapp tent. It\nwas dark and cold. The firelight shone on the close walls of the tent\nand on the Lapp woman, who gave her reindeer milk to drink. Lindagull\nbelieved herself to be in death's domain under the earth; and cried\nbecause she, so young, should be snatched away from Persia's sun and\nIspahan's lovely rose gardens.\n\n[Illustration: IN THE LAPP TENT.--_Page 60_.]\n\nThe wizard, in the meantime, hit upon a happy plan for winning Persian\ntreasure, and said to Lindagull:\n\n\"Weep not, beautiful princess. Thou art not dead. Thou hast only been\nstolen away by a horrid tiger and my son, the brave Knight Morus\nPandorus von Pikkuluk'ulikuck'ulu, has saved thee at the greatest risk\nof his own precious life. We will be thy slaves and serve thee with the\nutmost zeal until it becomes possible to conduct thee back to Persia.\"\n\n\"What lie is that, old man?\" said the honest Lapp woman in her own\nlanguage to the wizard.\n\nThe wizard continued: \"My wife says that if thou wilt take our son, the\nsurpassingly beautiful and brave knight, Morus Pandorus von\nPikkuluk'ulikuck'ulu, for thy bridegroom, we will immediately conduct\nthee back to Persia.\"\n\nPimpepanturi did not understand Persian; so he made great eyes when his\nfather pushed him forward toward the princess and pressed his stiff back\ndown with both hands that it might appear as if Pimpepanturi were\nbowing.\n\nLindagull would not have been a princess and the daughter of proud Shah\nNadir if she had not felt herself insulted by such an indignity. She\ngazed scornfully at the wizard, and at his clumsy lout of a son,--with\nsuch eyes! Nay! it was not a gaze; for her eyes flashed lightning!\n(And Persian eyes can flash lightning!) Father and son both flushed\ndark red.\n\n\"No, that won't do,\" said the wizard. \"She must first be tamed.\"\n\nThen the wizard made a partition in the tent, three yards long and two\nyards wide. There he imprisoned Lindagull, and gave her half a reindeer\ncheese and a dipper of melted snow-water every day for food.\n\nThus day and night passed by in darkness, for winter came quickly; and\nthe Northern Lights shone in through the cracks of the tent.\n\nPoor, innocent little Lindagull! Her eyes had flashed lightning once;\nbut as in thunder-storms it is not long between lightning gleams and\nshowers of rain, so the tears of Princess Lindagull soon began to fall.\nYes, she cried as one only can cry when one is twelve years old and has\nbeen a princess in Persia and lived in rose-gardens and marble castles,\nguarded by the friendliest attendants, and then suddenly finds herself\nhungry and freezing, alone, in a dark Lapland winter. Yes, she wept as\none weeps over lost youth, health and beauty;--over a lost life; as the\ndew weeps over a beautiful extinguished day in Ispahan's pleasure\ngarden.\n\nWhen she had done weeping she slept. But lo! while she slept, there\nstood by her side the friendly old fellow whom the Finns call Nukku\nMatti, whom the Swedes call Jon Blund, and whom the Danes and Norwegians\ncall Ole Luk\u00f6je,[4]--(I don't know what they call him in Persia;) and\nhe took her in his arms, bore her to Feather Islands and laid her on a\nbed of fragrant roses in a lovely grotto. There all was peaceful and\ngood. The soft moon shone over date-palms and myrtle forests, just as in\nPersia's fairest springtime. Small airy Dreams danced forth to her with\nsilken shoes over velvet rugs, and led her back to her home; to her\nfather the old Shah Nadir, to her friendly attendants and to all the\nplaces dear to her from birth. And so passed the long winter nights.\n\nAnd so passed weeks and months in the Kingdom of Dreams; because it was\nnow night altogether. But Lindagull was patient and wept no more. The\nDreams had said to her, \"Wait; thy deliverer will come----\"\n\nWho would deliver her? Who should discover a path where no path lay, far\naway in the snow?\n\nThe Lapp woman would willingly have set her free, but dared not on\naccount of her husband. And Pimpepanturi also had thoughts of it, but\nwas too lazy.\n\nAt length the winter was ended. The sun dared to shine, the snow melted\nand the gnats danced about. Then the wizard thought, \"Now she is tamed!\"\nWhereupon he went to Lindagull and asked if she wished to travel back to\nPersia. If so, she need only to accept the grandly courageous and highly\nadmired knight, Morus Pandorus von Pikkuluk'ulikuck'ulu for her\nbridegroom, and the reindeer would immediately stand harnessed at the\ndoor ready to travel southward.\n\nLindagull did not shoot glances of lightning this time. But she thought\nof the young Prince Abderraman who had once bled for her on Ispahan's\nsand; and remembering his face she could not possibly accept\nPimpepanturi. She answered nothing.\n\nAt this the wizard became very angry. He shut the Princess Lindagull in\na deep, dark grotto on a mountainside, and said to her (dropping the\ngrandiloquent style he had heretofore used): \"Soon the cloudberries will\nbe ripe. You shall keep account of the days as they pass, in this way.\nThe first day you shall have thirty cloudberries to eat and thirty\ndewdrops to drink; the next day twenty-nine cloudberries to eat and\ntwenty-nine dewdrops to drink; and so on, for each day one berry and one\ndrop less. On the last day you shall tell me what you have decided.\"\n\nSo Lindagull stayed there confined in the grotto. The time of year had\nnow come when barren Lapland shone with light both day and night; but\nthe grotto was dark. The cloudberries and dewdrops steadily lessened in\nnumber, but Lindagull's cheeks became no paler and her quiet patience\ncontinued the same as before. What she had to forego by day Nukku Matti\nand the Dreams made up to her every night. They lifted off the rocky\nroof by their magic power so that she could see the glowing midnight sun\nand hear the roar of the waterfall as it hurled itself over the edge of\nthe rock. Drippings from this waterfall fell into the grotto in the form\nof a delicious honey-dew, which served the starving one as refreshing\nmeat and drink.\n\nThe thoughts of Princess Lindagull dwelt often upon Prince Abderraman.\nShe sang ballads of the Eastern lands, and it pleased her to hear a\nhundred clear-voiced echoes answer back from the mountain walls. On the\nthirtieth day, the wizard brought her the last berry and the last\ndewdrop laid upon a leaf of Lapland dwarf-birch.\n\n\"Well now,\" he asked, \"have you decided?\"\n\nLindagull covered her fair face and answered nothing.\n\n\"There is still one day's time for thought,\" said the wizard, \"and you\nshall have some company to help hasten your decision.\" As he said this\nhe opened the door of the grotto, and immediately something like a great\ncloud streamed in. It was a swarm of Lapland's starved-out gnats. There\nwere thousands and thousands and thousands of them, and they filled the\ngrotto like a thick cloud of smoke.\n\n\"I wish you much joy in your new acquaintances!\" said the ugly wizard,\nshutting the door quickly as he went out.\n\nLindagull did not understand his meaning. She did not know the sting of\nthe Lapland gnat. She had never been annoyed by the Persian firefly\neven, for a slave had always stood at her side night and day with a long\nwaving peacock feather to protect her from all hurtful insects. The\nknowledge of such suffering as the horde of stinging gnats would have\ninflicted was kept from her now by the kindly Dreams; who, the instant\nthe door was shut, threw around her a close-woven veil of finest\ntexture, from the loom of the fairies. Through this veil the gnats could\nnot make their way. Not a drop of royal blood did they taste, day or\nnight. They bit with all their little power at the hard granite rocks;\nbut finding these too juiceless, the disappointed insects settled\nthemselves like a gray web about all the cracks and corners of the\ngrotto.\n\nAt midnight the door of the grotto was noiselessly opened and in walked\nthe Lapp woman, Pimpedora, with a jar in her hand, followed by\nPimpepanturi carrying a burning torch and some smoked reindeer meat.\n\n\"Poor child,\" said the good-hearted Lapp woman, \"it is a sin to keep you\nhere; but I dare not let you out, for if I did my husband would change\nme to a mountain rat. See, I have brought you some pitch-oil in my jar.\nSpread it all over your body; that will keep you from being stung to\ndeath by the gnats.\"\n\n\"And see here, I have brought you a smoked shoulder of reindeer so that\nyou shall not starve to death,\" said Pimpepanturi, good-naturedly. \"It\nis somewhat nibbled, because I grew so very hungry on the way; but there\nis still a little meat on the bone. And I stole the key of the grotto\nwhile Father slept, but I dare not let you out, for if I did Father\nwould change me into a wolverine. But you need not trouble yourself\nabout taking me for your husband. I'll wager that you cannot even cook a\nblack pudding properly.\"\n\n\"No, I know I cannot, truly,\" answered Princess Lindagull, and she\nthanked them both for their good-will, but explained to them that she\nwas neither hungry nor gnat-stung.\n\n\"Well! Keep the pitch-oil for safety's sake,\" said the Lapp woman.\n\n\"Yes, keep the shoulder of reindeer, too,\" said Pimpepanturi.\n\n\"A thousand thanks,\" replied Lindagull.\n\nThen the door was closed and she was again alone.\n\nThe next morning the wizard came, expecting that now he should surely\nfind his captive half stung to death by gnats and completely subdued.\nBut when he saw Lindagull as blooming as before, and saw her again look\nthoughtfully into his face without speaking, his wrath knew no bounds.\n\n\"Come out!\" he shouted.\n\nLindagull stepped forth in the clear day, as delicate and bright as a\nfairy in moonlight. When she threw back her veil to look about, the sun\nshone before her, warm and radiant as on a spring morning in the blue\nmountains of Afghanistan.\n\nThen said the wizard: \"I have a great mind to take you to old King Bom\nBali in Turan. He would load six asses with gold to get hold of you\nfor a single day! But no; I will not give up yet. Listen to what I have\ndecided upon. You shall be turned into a heather blossom on a Lappish\nmoor and live only as long as a heather blossom lives, unless you will\nyield to my wishes. Notice the sun: it now stands low in the sky. In two\nweeks and a day comes the first polar frost. Then the heather blossoms\ndie. Just before the frost comes, I shall question you for the last\ntime.\"\n\n[Illustration: LINDAGULL STEPPED FORTH IN THE CLEAR DAY.--_Page 70_.]\n\nGlaring at her, he waited, as if expecting the desired answer at once;\nbut as Lindagull again only gazed thoughtfully up at him in silence, the\nwizard cried out in a voice trembling with anger:\n\n                \"_Ad\u00e1ma donai Marrabata\u00ebsan!_\"\n\nwhich meant, \"Human life! sink into the likeness of a flower!\"\n\nThe wizard had learned these magic words one autumn evening from the\nSouth Wind when it came from the African desert and laid itself to rest\non a Lapland mountain. The wind understands all languages, for all\nwords are spoken in its hearing.\n\nAs the magician uttered this frightful command, it seemed to Lindagull\nas if all the flower-stalks on the heath grew to trees and overshadowed\nher; but it was she herself who sank down to the earth. The next moment\na stranger's eye could no longer distinguish her from the thousands and\nthousands of pale purple-pink heather blossoms on the Lappish waste. \"In\none day and two weeks!\" mumbled the wizard, casting a malignant glance\nbehind him as he turned back to his tent.\n\n[4] Ole Shut-Eye. (The Sandman.)\n\n\n\n\n                          CHAPTER IV\n\n                         THE RELEASE\n\n\nWhile all this was taking place, Prince Abderraman was riding the wide\nworld over, with his sword at his side and his staff in his hand. There\nwas not a mountain in Asia, not a desert in Africa, nor a field, town or\ncity in Southern or Middle Europe which he had not traversed in vain.\nBut what had he to hope for in Europe? No tigers are found there except\nthe tame ones exhibited in the city menageries; and among _them_ there\nwas no _Ahriman_! Sorrow drew the prince back on the way to Persia, and\nhis trusty dog, Valledivau, accompanied him.\n\nOne day the dog hunted a wild duck among the reeds of a lake, captured\nit and carried it alive to his master. Just as the prince was about to\nkill it, the duck quacked out:\n\n\"Spare my life, and I will tell you something!\"\n\n\"I _will_ spare your life, wonderful bird,\" the prince exclaimed,\nastonished. \"What have you to tell me?\"\n\n\"Ride to Lapland!\" quacked the duck, at the same time escaping into the\nwater.\n\nLapland! The prince had never even heard of such a kingdom. When he\ninquired about it and how he should find it, people answered:\n\n\"Ride northward, steadily northward; and stop not until the road ends,\nthe forest ends, and you no more find a human dwelling with builded\nhearth.\"\n\n\"Wonderful!\" thought the prince, and he followed the advice. He rode\nnorthward, steadily northward; stopping not until the road came to an\nend, the forest came to an end, and no human dwelling was to be seen but\none lone movable tent.\n\nIt was on the last day of August, after he had ridden many long and\nweary miles without seeing a single trace of man, that the prince\nsuddenly discovered, at the foot of a high mountain, this lone tent of\nreindeer skin. The last day of August! The sun still shone and the\nheather still blossomed, but the sky had changed and a cool north wind\nblew. When the wind ceased, then would come the frost!\n\nThe prince drew nearer to the tent that he might once more repeat his\nfruitless query for the lost princess, when to his indescribable\nastonishment he perceived in the distance an inscription on a rock on\nthe mountainside. The characters were very legible. He read the name of\n\n                          LINDAGULL!\n\nThe wizard had carved the name there, over the door of the mountain\ngrotto, so that he could find the place again when he moved his tent\naway.\n\nThe prince had dismounted, and was just about to draw his sword and\nenter the tent when Hirmu came out on his way to the heath.\n\n\"Give me back the Princess Lindagull or I will send you to the Kingdom\nof the Prince of Darkness!\" shouted Abderraman.\n\nThe wizard was a crafty fellow who knew many a trick by which to save\nhimself when in a dilemma. But he lost his presence of mind at this\nunexpected encounter and could think of no better way out of the\ndifficulty than to change himself instantly into a mountain fox. With a\nhasty spring he fled swiftly away into the mountain. He thought thus to\nbe safe from the prince's sword, but he forgot the dog by whom the\nprince was followed!\n\nNo sooner had Valledivau seen the fox spring away than he was off on the\nhunt after it. The fox hid in every cleft and jumped over the mountain\nravines; but Valledivau, even more agile, chased him to the highest\nmountain top, tore him in pieces, and ate up his heart.\n\nThis proved the death of Hirmu the wizard; for his heart had entered the\nfox just as it had before gone into the tiger; and when the heart was\neaten up, that was the end of the wizard.\n\nWhen the dog returned with his nose covered with blood, his master\nunderstood that now their common enemy had met his destruction. But\nwhere was Lindagull to be found?\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe prince went to the door of the tent. The Lapp woman, Pimpedora, was\ncooking reindeer meat; and her boy, Pimpepanturi, stretched lazily on\nthe soft moss, was sleeping instead of doing something useful while he\nwas waiting for dinner.\n\n\"Woman,\" said the prince, \"your husband is dead. Give me back the\nPrincess Lindagull, and no harm shall come to you.\"\n\n\"O mercy! And is he dead?\" exclaimed the Lapp woman, coming out of the\ntent, but not appearing very much distressed. \"Ah, well! It's time there\nshould come an end to his evil arts. As for Lindagull, we must seek her\nout there among the heather blossoms. My husband has changed her into a\nheather blossom, exactly like many thousands of others; and to-night the\nfrost will come and then all will be over with her!\"\n\n\"Ah! dearest little Lindagull! Must you die to-night and I not be able\nto discover the stalk on which you wither?\" cried the prince, throwing\nhimself down among the heather on the boundless moor, where a thousand\ntimes a thousand pale, purple-pink blossoms, exactly like each other,\nawaited death.\n\n\"Hold!\" said the Lapp woman. \"Despair not! Now occurs to me the saying\nwith which Lindagull was enchanted! I thought he planned a wrong against\nthe child, and crept back of a big stone to see what my husband was\ngoing to do. Then I heard him say:\n\n                \"_Ad\u00e1ma donai Marrabata\u00ebsan!_\"\n\n\"Ah!\" sighed the prince, \"how can that help us when we do not know the\nwords which loosen the enchantment?\"\n\nPimpepanturi, waking and thinking that the dinner had been long enough\ndeferred, walked out of the tent to look for his mother. When he heard\nthe prince's words, he scratched his forehead thoughtfully a few times\nand said, \"Father used to change the saying around when he wanted to\ndisenchant any one.\"\n\n\"Yes, so he did!\" said the Lapp woman.\n\nPrince Abderraman, with terrified eagerness, gave a great leap, landed\non a rock, and shouted as loudly as he could over the limitless heath:\n\n                \"_Marrabata\u00ebsan donai Ad\u00e1ma!_\"\n\nThe words rang out through the air without effect. No blossom arose. The\nsun was sinking rapidly toward the horizon and the wind was growing\nstill.\n\nThe prince, fearing he should not give the right turn to the magic\ncommand, repeated it time after time saying the words in different order\nand with different expression. But in vain.\n\nAt last, at a certain way of saying the words, it seemed to him that a\nbit of heather on a distant mound had lifted itself up to listen, but\nsunk immediately back, undistinguishable among the multitudinous\nblossoms.\n\n\"The sun is going down,\" said the Lapp woman. \"If we do not quickly find\nthe right manner of saying the words, the frost will come, and then it\nwill be too late.\"\n\nBy this time the sun's red beams had sunk quite down to the horizon. All\nnature was silent. A cool and damp evening mist, the forerunner of the\nfrost, spread itself like a veil over moor and mound. All living things\nwhich had ventured to bloom for a short time in Lapland were now doomed\nto death.\n\nPrince Abderraman was pallid with terror. His voice choked, and he could\nscarcely articulate the one untried arrangement of the magical words:\n\n               \"_Marraba donai Ad\u00e1ma ta\u00ebsan._\"\n\nBehold! On the distant hillock, a heather blossom raised itself on its\nstalk. It grew as rapidly as does the lily which the Afghanistan fairies\ncause to spring forth in the red dawn, when they tap on the blue\nmountains with their magic wands.\n\nThe mist lay all around the mound. Out of the mist arose a slender\nfigure, and as the prince approached the mound, running breathlessly,\nLindagull came toward him pale with the escape of death. Prince\nAbderraman had found the right order for the words just in time to save\nher life.\n\nThe Princess Lindagull was borne to the tent in the arms of Abderraman,\nand her strength soon returned under the Lappish woman's kind care.\nPimpedora was happy; and Pimpepanturi in his gladness forgot his\nlonged-for dinner, which was sadly burnt in the pot.\n\n[Illustration: OUT OF THE MIST AROSE A SLENDER FIGURE.--_Page 80_.]\n\nThe hero-prince, picturing to himself the perils of the princess and the\nwonder of her recovery, swooned with rapture. His first words as he\nrecovered were a prayer to Allah; and then he asked Lindagull:\n\n\"How did it feel to be changed into a heather blossom?\"\n\n\"Just as if one sank back into the cradle of childhood and knew no more\nof the world than to eat, drink, and be happy in God's love,\" answered\nLindagull.\n\n\"And how did it feel when you came back to life again?\"\n\n\"Just as when one awakes on a clear morning after a deep and pleasant\nslumber.\"\n\n\"To-morrow shall we go back to Persia?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Lindagull. \"But the good woman and her son have had a\nshare in saving the poor captive Lindagull. We will take them with us\nand they shall have a palace in Ispahan.\"\n\n\"No; many, many thanks,\" answered Pimpedora; \"I like my reindeer tent in\nLapland better.\"\n\n\"Are there snow and reindeer in Persia?\" asked Pimpepanturi.\n\n\"Snow is found only on the highest mountains,\" said the princess; \"and\ninstead of reindeer we have horses, antelopes, and gazelles.\"\n\n\"No, thank you heartily, then,\" said Pimpepanturi. \"You can go with\npleasure, and marry whom you wish. Nowhere in the world is there to be\nfound so good a land as Lapland!\"\n\nIt was of no use trying to dispute that question with the Laplanders, so\nthe prince and princess set out the following day without them. Before\ndeparting they presented the Lapp woman and her son with their\ngold-embroidered clothes and with many jewels; receiving in return gifts\nof Lappish garments made from reindeer skin.\n\nThe Lapp woman put the costly Persian robes carefully away in birch\nbark, and rejoiced because with them she could buy a whole field of\ngrain.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nShah Nadir sat alone in Ispahan's golden palace and groaned with grief.\nHe could not forget his lost daughter. His wicked and ungrateful sons\nhad raised a rebellion against him, and were marching with a large army\ntoward the capital to cast their father from the throne.\n\nWhile affairs were at this juncture the Grand Vizier announced that a\nyoung foreign couple, dressed in reindeer skin and followed by a dog,\nwished to prostrate themselves at the king's feet.\n\nShah Nadir never refused audience to a stranger,--(perhaps such a\ntraveler would know something of his dear lost child!)--and so the two\nforeigners were led into his presence.\n\nThe young man cast himself down before the feet of the Shah; but the\nyoung woman, without ado, threw her arms around his neck; at which\nproceeding the Grand Vizier's beard became green with consternation!\n\nBut Shah Nadir, under her Lappish hood of reindeer skin, recognized his\nchild so long sought and so hopelessly bewailed. \"Allah! Allah!\" cried\nhe in joy; \"now I am willing to die!\"\n\n\"No, my lord king,\" broke out Prince Abderraman. \"Now shall you live to\nrejoice with us, and to win back your kingdom again.\"\n\nWhen Shah Nadir learned about his daughter's captivity and of the loyal\nservice which the prince had shown her, he immediately proclaimed Prince\nAbderraman successor to his throne, promised him the Princess Lindagull\nin marriage, and sent him in command of the fifty thousand knights with\ngold saddles to fight the rebellious army.\n\nIt was not long before the prince won a glorious battle, took the rebel\nsons prisoners, and came back victorious to the rejoicing people of\nIspahan.\n\nThen was the wedding of Prince Abderraman and Princess Lindagull\ncelebrated with great state (but without a wild beast fight!) and they\nlived long and happily after. But one day every year,--and that was the\nthirty-first of August, the date of Princess Lindagull's\ndeliverance,--the royal pair showed themselves (to the great wonderment\nof magnificent Persia) in the Lapps' outlandish clothes of reindeer\nskin, so that in their prosperity they should not forget the great\nescape and blessing of the past.\n\nIn his old age, Shah Nadir had happy little grandchildren to sit upon\nhis knee. The wicked sons ended their careers as swineherds for old King\nBom Bali in Turan. The dog, Valledivau, lived to be thirty years old and\ndied of the toothache (!); his skin was stuffed and kept in great honor.\nBut about Pimpedora, and Pimpepanturi who bore for a season the proud\nname of Morus Pandorus von Pikkulukulikuck\u00b4ulu, nothing has since been\nheard in Persia. Probably they have never found a better land on the\nearth's broad expanse than Lapland.\n\n                                                 --_Z. Topelius_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                     SIKKU AND THE TROLLS\n\n\nIn the time of Charles the Twelfth there lived, in North Finland, a poor\nherd-boy called Sikku. His name should have been Sixtus, but the tongue\nof the Finn is so unmanageable that some names baffle it, and in that\ncase he simply makes them over to suit himself,--to the form that he can\nbest pronounce; so for that reason, Sixtus became Sikku.\n\nSikku was so poor that he had neither cap nor shirt nor shoes; but not\nin the least did this trouble him. He was always gay and happy, and\nwhile tending his cows at the foot of Sipuri Mountain, sang songs from\nmorning till evening or blew on his wooden horn, taking great delight in\nhearing the mountain echoes mimic him.\n\nSikku had an old jack-knife, which counted for riches to him; and\nbesides that he rejoiced in a comrade named Kettu, a long-nosed,\nlong-tailed yellow dog, faithful to Sikku, but with a testy temper\ntoward other folk.\n\nThe two stood by each other in plenty and in need, through weal and\nthrough woe. Kettu drove the cows together when they strayed, Kettu\nwatched them while Sikku took his midday nap, and Sikku shared with\nKettu the hard bread that was, for both, the usual breakfast and dinner.\nWith the bread, they always had a fine soup of clear spring water, and\nalmost every day a delicious dessert,--strawberries, raspberries, Arctic\nblackberries, blueberries, red whortleberries, wild cherries, or berries\nfrom the mountain-ash.\n\nKettu scorned such things, but Sikku enjoyed them all in the course of\nthe summer, and thought he fared like a prince. When the weather was\nvery rainy and cold, however, he would begin, toward evening, to long\nfor the porridge pot. Oh, that nice warm porridge pot, that he could\nscrape and scrape, eating all the porridge there was left anywhere in\nit! Kettu got the porridge ladle to lick, and stole Miss Pussy's milk\nfrom the broken earthen dish which stood on the floor near the\nwater-tub, though he seldom got the milk without a battle!\n\nThe master of Anttilla Farm was stingy and grasping and his wife was\nlike him, but what mattered that to Sikku? He had his freedom, and the\nonly thing he was responsible for was that all the fifteen cows returned\nto the farm every evening to be milked. Not another care in the world\nhad Sikku, and for a time all went well and happily.\n\nOne day he climbed up the highest peak of the mountain while Kettu\nwatched the cows in the valley. There was a wide beautiful view over\nforests, marshes, and small lonely lakes, but no houses were in sight.\nSikku had never in his life thought that the world could be so big! His\nheart warmed within him as he saw the sun sparkle on the lakes between\nthe dark branches of the pines. When a cloud sailed over the sky, one\ngleam after another flashed, vanished in shadow and shone out anew in\nanother spot. Sikku sang and sang, blowing his wooden horn between\ntimes. The sounds rang out merrily up there on the mountain and turned\ninto a little song:\n\n  \"Oh, Sipuri Mountain! Tu-tu\u00b4! Falidu\u00b4!\n          Tu-tu\u00b4! Falidu\u00b4!\n  In all the whole world not a boy can be found\n  Who is tending his cows, with such grandeur around.\n          Tu-tu\u00b4! Falidu\u00b4!\"\n\nWhile he was singing, there suddenly appeared before him a hideous\nlittle old woman who said to him, \"All the land that you see shall be\nyours if you will be my boy and obey me.\"\n\n\"Oh, ho!\" exclaimed Sikku, observing the woman closely and recognizing\nher as the troll woman from Allis Farm.\n\n\"Give me the white cow, Kimmo,\" continued she, \"and say when you go home\nthat the wolf caught her.\"\n\nSikku's eyes grew big and he answered: \"Indeed I will not. I am no such\nrascal as that!\"\n\n\"Then blame yourself for what happens,\" said the troll woman; and with\nthat she hopped, crow fashion, down the mountain.\n\nKettu began to howl from the valley. Sikku sprang down and found that\nKimmo had sunk in the wet marsh so that only her horn stood up above the\nsoft, yielding ground. He tried to drag her out, but he was not strong\nenough, and when he had worked over her until he was worn out, he had to\ngive up and go home driving only fourteen cows, while the bell cow lowed\nand Kettu howled.\n\nPoor Sikku told of the disaster and got a hard thrashing; and the next\nmorning was sent to his work without anything to eat, not even the dry\nbread usually given to him for the noon meal.\n\nHe sang no songs that day but sat hungry and sorrowful at the foot of\nthe mountain. By and by, the long-bearded old troll man from Allis came\nto him and said:\n\n\"Give me the black cow, Mustikka, and say that the wolf tore her to\npieces, and I will give you all the land you can see from Sipuri Peak.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"OH, HO!\"\nEXCLAIMED SIKKU, RECOGNIZING HER AS THE TROLL WOMAN.--_Page 89_.]\n\n\"Indeed I will not. I am no such rascal as that!\" answered Sikku,\noffended.\n\n\"Blame yourself then for what happens,\" said the troll; and with that\noff he went, turning somersaults all the way.\n\nKettu began to bark. Sikku ran at once to the herd and found Mustikka\nlying dead among the trees on a hillside. She had eaten some poisonous\nplant and could not be restored to life. Sikku, distressed and crying,\nmade a birch-bark cone, in which he brought water from the spring and\ndashed over her head; but it was of no use. He must go home with only\nthirteen cows and report the misfortune. This time he was shut up in the\ncellar without food for three days. The fourth day he was sent out with\nthe thirteen cows and the usual lunch-bag. Being very hungry he no\nsooner reached the gate than he opened the bag, but found in it only a\ngray stone!\n\nSikku drove the cows toward the mountain, ate berries in the forest,\nand sat down, full of grief, on a stump right in the midst of the herd,\nso that no further ill might befall. Then there came to him the pretty\nlittle troll maiden from Allis, who held out toward him a fresh wheaten\nroll, patted his thin cheek, and said:\n\n\"Give me the red cow, Mansikka, and tell them when you go home that a\nbear tore her to pieces, and you shall have this nice fresh roll and all\nthe land you can see from the top of Sipuri besides.\"\n\nSikku was so hungry that he could have swallowed a roll of moss! He\nlooked at the wheaten roll, he looked at the pretty little troll maiden\nand had to bite his tongue to keep from instantly answering yes. But the\ntroll maiden laughed and that offended Sikku, and he answered:\n\n\"Indeed I will not. I am no such rascal as that!\"\n\n\"Blame yourself then for what happens!\" said the troll maiden; and with\nthat, fluttering like a magpie, away she went into the forest.\n\nSikku, fearing a new misfortune, turned at once to Mansikka who had been\ngrazing right near him. She now lay stretched at full length upon the\ngrass with a snake hanging fast to her nose; and in a short time she was\ndead from the poisonous bite. What did it matter that Sikku killed the\nsnake? Its bite had killed the cow, and home must he go with only twelve\ncows, and tell of this new disaster.\n\n\"Decide yourself what punishment you deserve!\" said the angry farmer.\n\"Shall I roast you in the bath-house furnace or would you rather be\nthrown into the deep well?\"\n\n\"I couldn't help it,--it wasn't my fault!\" said Sikku, weeping bitterly.\n\"Three times they offered me all the land I could see from Sipuri Peak\nif I would steal a cow for them and then lie to you; but that of course\nI would not do.\"\n\n\"They did, did they?\" said the farmer. \"Very well. That is my land that\nyou see from Sipuri Peak and I will promise it to you, if you, before\nthe next full moon, lead to my farm nine beautiful cows in the place of\nKimmo, Mustikka, and Mansikka, lying dead over there by the mountain.\nBut what shall I do with you now? You must have some kind of\npunishment.\"\n\n\"Bind him hand and foot, lay him on the highest peak of Sipuri Mountain,\nand let him eat his fill of the view of the land you promise him,\" said\nthe farm mistress, who could not forgive Sikku for the loss of the three\ncows.\n\nThis suggestion pleased the farmer. Sikku was bound hand and foot, and\nplaced on the tip top of the mountain; and everybody was forbidden to\ngive him anything to eat or drink. The remaining twelve cows were driven\nby another boy to graze in fields the other side of the farm, far away\nfrom the mountain.\n\nThere lay Sikku, bound hand and foot, and half dead from hunger. The\nforest wafted fragrance, the lakes glittered in the sunshine, twilight\ncame, night came, the dew fell, the thrushes sang, the stars twinkled,\nand the moon looked down upon the poor boy; and it seemed as if no one\nin the whole world thought or cared about him.\n\nBut high over mountain and forest, over the lakes, the dew, the thrushes\nand even the stars and the moon, there is nevertheless One who sees all\nthe oppressed and miserable upon earth; and He saw even poor forsaken\nSikku and sent to him a faithful friend. Who was the faithful friend?\nWho should it be but Kettu?\n\nKettu could have porridge to eat at the farm; he could steal milk, as\nwas his custom, from the cat's broken dish by the water-tub; but though\nhe was hungry, Kettu chose rather to dash up the mountain in search of\nSikku, to lie at Sikku's bound feet, and lick his bound hands. Sikku was\nso glad to have his dog with him that he once more felt happy and\ncontent; and soon both fell asleep in the moonlight.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow there was at this time,--in the reign of Charles the Twelfth,--a\ngreat war going on in the southern part of the land. The people in\nNorth Finland did not know much about this war, but lived in peace\nbehind their thick forests. Suddenly an enemy's fleet appeared on their\nseacoast and bands of warriors were put ashore. They spread over the\nland, fighting and plundering everywhere.\n\nOn this very night, one of these fierce warrior bands had come to the\nregion near Sipuri. They attacked, burned and plundered Anttilla Farm,\ntook the master himself prisoner, and drove forth all his cattle as part\nof their booty.\n\nAfterward the warriors separated into smaller groups, to continue their\nplundering in other places. And certain Cossacks were left behind to\nguard the prisoners and the stolen cattle, until it was convenient to\nput them on board the ship.\n\nEarly in the morning, Sikku awoke to find that Kettu was biting a man in\nthe leg. Two wild-looking, heavily-bearded men had climbed to the\nmountain top to get a good view of the land and see whither they should\nnow betake themselves. Finding a young boy, tied and helpless, they\npitied him,--hostile though they were,--freed him, gave him bread from\ntheir knapsacks and took him along with them.\n\nReaching their horses, which had been left tied to trees at the foot of\nthe mountain, one of the men lifted Sikku to his horse's back, the other\ndrove Kettu away so that he should not follow them, and off they\ngalloped, not stopping until the riders neared the shore of a large\nlake.\n\nMuch booty and many prisoners had been brought here, but the Cossacks\nwere so eager to continue their raids that they left only six men to\nguard what they had already taken, the others riding forth again\nimmediately.\n\nWhen night came on, the six Cossacks began to be afraid lest some of the\nland's own people should attack them in the dark. Therefore, they got\ninto a small boat, taking Sikku with them, and rowed out to an island in\nthe lake, so that they might pass the night in safety. They left the\ncattle to graze on the shore, while the prisoners and even the six\nhorses were still securely bound to the trees.\n\nSikku lay among the Cossacks on the barren island. The night was dark,\nthe great waves dashed against the island's pebbly beach, and a strong\nwind blew toward the mainland. Sikku was wakeful, and heard the\nlong-drawn, regular breathing of the weary Cossacks as they slept beside\nhim. Five of them lay there, but the sixth had stayed on guard in the\nboat.\n\nSikku raised himself slowly and listened. One of the Cossacks began\ntalking in his sleep and tossed his arms about, so Sikku lay down again;\nbut still he could not sleep.\n\nAfter a while he sat up once more, and since everything was quiet, he\nstole out from among the sleeping Cossacks and went silently down to the\nboat at the shore. Here the trusted guard was also asleep, and slept so\nheavily that he knew nothing of Sikku's doings, although Sikku shoved\nthe boat gently out into the water, sat down in the stern and let the\nwind drive the boat toward the mainland.\n\nStill the Cossack watchman slept as the boat sped quietly on. He had\nridden hard, many, many miles. Little wonder that he slept like a log!\n\nWhen Sikku felt the boat grate against the land, he climbed softly out,\ntook his old knife from his pocket, and cut the ropes that bound the\nprisoners. The Cossack still slept. The released prisoners could\nscarcely believe that they were free. They followed Sikku to the boat,\nand bound their enemy with the same ropes by which a moment ago they\nthemselves had been bound.\n\nNow at last the Cossack was awake, but too late. He had been made his\ncaptives' captive.\n\n\"Kill him at once! And then let us row to the island and kill the others\nwhile they sleep!\" shouted one of the newly freed men.\n\n\"No,\" said Sikku, who recognized his master's voice. \"Let us rather take\ntheir booty and hurry it and ourselves to safety.\"\n\n\"They have burnt my house and barns, and stolen everything I had,\" said\nthe farmer savagely.\n\n\"They freed me and gave me food,\" said Sikku, who seemed suddenly like a\ngrown man.\n\nMost of the men agreed with Sikku. The Cossacks were not killed, some of\nthe land's folk rode away on the enemy's horses, others drove herds of\ncattle off to safe hiding-places in the forest, and each person carried\naway as much as he could of the enemy's plunder. Sikku had chosen his\nshare and was well pleased with it.\n\nSeveral days after, the warrior bands returned from their raids and took\nto their ships again.\n\nThen the folk came out from the depths of the forest and from the\nmountain caves where they had sought refuge in the hour of danger, and\nmany came from their burnt farms. They gathered at the church to consult\ntogether as to what was best to be done now. For one thing, they must\ndecide the fate of the six captive Cossacks,--the five on the island\nhaving also been captured.\n\n\"Kill them! Kill them!\" shouted several.\n\n\"No, give them to Sikku,\" said others. \"He captured them.\"\n\nSo the six Cossacks were given to Sikku who exacted the promise from\nthem that they would not fight against Finland any more. Then he let\nthem go, free and unharmed.\n\nThe farmer of Anttilla and his wife had settled themselves in a tiny hut\non their estate which the enemy, in their headlong haste, had not\nburned.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the wife, the first evening they sat in their new poor\nhome. \"If we only had our beautiful cows now!\"\n\n\"If we only had!\" said the farmer.\n\nAt that moment they saw a little bareheaded, barefooted boy come from\nthe hillside grove toward the hut, driving before him, with the help of\na long-nosed, yellow dog, a herd of nine beautiful cows.\n\n\"Isn't that Sikku? And Kettu?\" exclaimed the farmer.\n\n\"And are not those our cows?\" cried the farm mistress.\n\nYes, it was Sikku; and Kettu; and those were the Anttilla Farm cows that\nthe robbers had taken away with them. Three had been slain, but the nine\nthat were left, Sikku had asked for as his share of the booty.\n\n\"Here I come, bringing you nine beautiful cows!\" shouted Sikku. He would\nfain have swung his cap for joy, only he had no cap.\n\n\"Darling boy!\" \"Is it really you?\" exclaimed the farmer and his wife at\nthe same time. Then they embraced Sikku, and patted the cows again and\nagain in their delight.\n\nKettu had already disappeared in the hut to see whether Miss Pussy's\nbroken dish still stood by the water-tub. Miss Pussy hissed and spat at\nhim and so there was again war in the land.\n\n\"Are you hungry, Sikku?\" asked the mistress. Her conscience was very\nuneasy.\n\n\"No, I thank you,\" answered Sikku. \"I was thinking of something else. It\nis not yet full moon.\"\n\nAt these words, the farmer fumbled with his big ears in embarrassment\nand distress, remembering his rash promise. Here was Sikku with nine\ncows, and true enough, the moon was not yet full. Well, Sikku had proved\nhimself a fine fellow;--a promise was a promise;--they needed the cows\nsadly. One might as well make the best of the situation.\n\n\"Listen now, Sikku,\" said he. \"Let us be good friends. What could you do\nwith so much land while you are so little? Serve me faithfully for seven\nyears, and I will then keep my promise and give you all the land you can\nsee from Sipuri Mountain.\"\n\n\"Done!\" said Sikku.\n\nSo Sikku served faithfully for seven years at Anttilla Farm, grew tall\nand strong, got shirts and caps and shoes, married the farmer's\ndaughter, the kind Greta, and received with her not only all the land to\nbe seen from Sipuri Mountain, but a fine new farmhouse besides.\n\nKettu and Miss Pussy lived many years and, when they died, were both\nburied at the foot of Sipuri Mountain.\n\nAnd the three trolls? Oh, yes. Well, there is a big crows' nest at Allis\nFarm, in which live three crows. They can give you news of the trolls,\nif any one can; but people say, you know, that crows are not to be\nrelied upon in the least.\n\n                                                  --_Z. Topelius_.\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                        SAMPO LAPPELIL\n\n\nThere was once a Lapp and a Lapp woman. The Lapps are a people who live\nnorth of the Swedes, the Norwegians, and the Finns, far, far up in the\nnorth. They have neither fields, nor real forests, nor regular houses,\nbut only great barren bogs and high mountains, and small huts, which\nthey crawl into through a hole. The country of the Lapps is strange.\nHalf the year it is light most of the time, for the sun never sets in\nthe middle of summer, and the other half of the year it is dark most of\nthe time, and the stars shine all day in winter.\n\nTen months of the year it is winter, and then the little Lapp men and\nthe little Lapp women drive over the snow in small boats, which are\ncalled pulks. There is no horse harnessed before the pulk, but a\nreindeer. Have you ever seen a reindeer? It is as large as a little\nhorse, is gray in color, has high branching horns, a stooping neck, and\na pretty little head with great clear eyes. When it runs at full speed,\nit goes flying over mountains and hills like a rushing wild wind, and\nits hoofs snap as it dashes along.\n\nThere was, as I have said, a Lapp and a Lapp woman. They lived far up in\nLapland, in Aimio, which lies near Tenojoki or the Tana River. (You can\nsee it on the map of Finland, where Lapland can be found like a great\nnightcap on Finland's high head.) The place was barren and wild, but the\nLapp and his wife felt sure that nowhere on the whole earth could you\nsee such white snow, such clear stars, and such beautiful Northern\nLights as at Aimio. There they had built themselves a hut such as Lapps\nusually live in. No large trees grew in that region,--only slender\nbirches, that were more like bushes than trees--so where could they get\nwood for a house? Instead, they took long, thin sticks, stuck them into\nthe snow, in a circle, tied the upper ends together, hung reindeer skins\nover the sticks, so that altogether it looked like a gray sugar-loaf,\nand then the hut was finished. In the top of the sugar-loaf they left a\nhole, through which the smoke could escape if they lighted a fire, and\nthere was another hole in the southern side through which they could\ncrawl in and out. The Lapps thought it was pretty and warm and were very\nhappy in it, though they had no other bed and no other floor than the\nwhite snow.\n\nThe man and the woman had a little boy whose name was Sampo, and that\nmeans \"luck\" in Lapland. But Sampo had two names. Once some strange\ngentlemen in great fur coats had come and stayed in the hut. They had\nwith them little hard, white pieces of snow, such as the Lapp woman had\nnever seen before, which they called \"sugar.\" They gave Sampo a few\npieces of the sweet snow, and they patted him on the cheek and said:\n\"Lappelil! Lappelil!\" which means \"little Lapp.\" They could not say\nanything else, for they could not talk Lapp. And then they traveled away\nfarther north, to the Arctic Ocean and the northernmost point of Europe\nwhich is called the North Cape. The Lapp woman liked the strange\ngentlemen and their sweet snow, and she began from that time to call her\nboy \"Lappelil.\"\n\n\"I think Sampo a much better name,\" said the man, rather vexed. \"Sampo\nmeans 'riches,' and I tell you, Mother, don't spoil the name! For, some\ntime, Sampo will become the king of the Lapps, and reign over thousands\nof reindeer and fifty Lapp huts.\"\n\n\"Yes, but Lappelil sounds so pretty,\" said the woman. And she called the\nboy \"Lappelil,\" and the man called him \"Sampo.\" He was, however, not\nchristened yet, for at that time there was no priest within a hundred\nmiles. \"Next year we will go to the priest and let him christen the\nboy,\" the man used to say. But next year something came in the way, and\nthe journey did not take place, and the boy did not get christened.\n\nSampo Lappelil was now a fat little fellow seven or eight years old,\nwith black hair and brown eyes; he had a snub nose and a broad mouth\njust like his papa's; in Lapland a face must have such features if it is\nto be thought really fine. Sampo was not a stupid boy for his age; he\nhad his own little snow-shoes and on them he danced over the high hills\nnear the Tana; and his own little reindeer which he harnessed before his\nown pulk. You should have seen how the snow blew about him, as he rushed\noff over the ice and the high snow-drifts, so that nothing of the boy\nwas to be seen but a tuft of his black hair!\n\n\"I shall never feel quite safe until the boy is christened,\" the Lapp\nwoman often said. \"The wolves may get him some fine day here on the\nmountains, or he may meet Hiisi's reindeer with the golden horns--and\nthen may God protect the poor creature who is not christened!\"\n\nSampo, hearing this, began to wonder what kind of a reindeer it could be\nthat had golden horns. \"That must be a beautiful reindeer,\" said he. \"I\nshould like to drive it once; then I would travel to Rastekais!\"\n\nRastekais is a very wild, high mountain that may be seen from\ntwenty-five or thirty miles away.\n\n\"Don't you dare to talk so, naughty boy!\" said the mother, and scolded\nhim. \"It is just on Rastekais that the trolls are, and there lives\nHiisi.\"\n\n\"Hiisi--who is that?\" asked Sampo.\n\nThe woman became confused. \"Now, he must ask about everything, that\nboy,\" she thought to herself. \"Why do I stand here and talk about such\nthings so that he can hear? But at least I will frighten him away from\nRastekais!\"\n\nAnd so she said: \"Dear Lappelil, never go to Rastekais, for there lives\nHiisi, the great mountain king who eats a reindeer in a mouthful, and\nswallows boys like gnats.\"\n\nSampo began to wonder when he heard this; but he said nothing. He\nthought to himself: \"It must be good fun to see such a horrid creature\nas the mountain king,--but only from a long way off!\"\n\nIt was now already three or four weeks after Christmas, and it was\nstill dark in Lapland. There was no morning, noon, nor evening. It was\nalways night; and the moon shone, and the Northern Lights crackled, and\nthe stars twinkled brightly all the time. Sampo began to feel dull. It\nwas so long since he had seen the sun that he had almost forgotten what\nit looked like; and when any one talked of summer Sampo only remembered\nit was the time when the gnats were so bad and tried to eat him up.\nTherefore he did not care if the summer stayed away forever, if only it\nwould grow light enough to go about easily on snow-shoes.\n\nOne day about noon the Lapp said: \"Come here, and you shall see\nsomething!\" Sampo crept out of the hut in the dark, and looked toward\nthe south, for it was in that direction that his father pointed. There\nhe saw a little red streak way down on the horizon.\n\n\"Do you know what that is?\" asked the Lapp.\n\n\"That is Southern Lights,\" said the boy. He had a good idea of the\npoints of the compass, and knew very well that you could not see\nNorthern Lights in the south.\n\n\"No,\" said his father, \"that is the forerunner of the sun. To-morrow or\nthe day after we shall see the sun itself. Only look how strangely the\nred light shines on the top of Rastekais.\"\n\nSampo turned to the west and saw how the snow was colored red far away\non the dark, wild top of Rastekais. Immediately it came into his mind\nhow very pleasant it would be to see the mountain king--from a long way\noff.\n\nSampo thought about this all day and half the night. He tried to sleep,\nbut could not. \"Yes,\" he thought, \"it would be fun to see the mountain\nking once!\" He kept thinking about it, until at last he crept quite\nsoftly out from the reindeer-skin under which he lay, and out through\nthe door. It was so cold that the stars snapped and the snow crackled\nunder his feet. But Sampo Lappelil was not afraid of cold. Besides he\nhad a leather jacket, leather trousers, Lapp shoes, and a fur cap and\nmittens. Thus fortified, he looked at the stars, and did not know\nexactly what he should do next.\n\nThen he heard his little reindeer scratching in the snow not far off.\n\"What if I took a drive?\" thought Sampo.\n\nNo sooner said than done. Sampo harnessed the reindeer before the pulk\nas he usually did, and started off over the great bare snow-field. \"I\nwill drive a little way toward Rastekais, only a little way,\" he thought\nto himself. So he drove down over the frozen river and up on the other\nside of the Tana, and then was in the kingdom of Norway, for the Tana\nRiver is the boundary. But that Sampo did not know.\n\nYou, who are reading this story of Sampo Lappelil, did you ever sing:\n\"Run, my brave reindeer\"? Do you know the beautiful songs of the dear,\ngood Bishop Franz\u00e9n, whom all Sweden and all Finland love, and have you\never seen the title-page of the fourth volume of his songs? There you\ncan see a Lapp boy driving with his reindeer over the snow, and that is\njust Sampo Lappelil. So he sat and sang to himself:\n\n                   \"So short is the day,\n                   The road is so long,\n                   Oh! hark to my song:\n                   Let us hurry away!\n                   The wolf pack lives here,\n                   Rest not, little deer!\"\n\nAs he sang he saw in the dark the wolves running like gray dogs around\nthe pulk, and barking after the reindeer; but he did not mind that; he\nknew that no wolf could run as fast as his swift reindeer. Ha, how they\nwent over stones and hills! The wind whistled in their ears! Sampo\nLappelil only rushed on. The reindeer's hoofs snapped, and the moon in\nthe sky raced with him, and the high mountains seemed to rebound, but\nSampo Lappelil only rushed on. It was pleasant to drive; he thought of\nnothing else. Then it happened that in a sudden turn over a hill, the\npulk upset and Sampo fell out and was left lying in a snow-drift.\n\nBut the reindeer did not notice that; it thought that he still sat in\nthe pulk, and so ran on, and Sampo had got his mouth so full of snow\nthat he could not call. There he lay, like a lemming that had lost a\nfoot, in the dark night, in the midst of the desolate wilderness where\nno one lived for many miles around.\n\n[Illustration: SAMPO WAS LEFT LYING IN A SNOW-DRIFT.--_Page 114_.]\n\nSampo was frightened at first--that you cannot wonder at. He worked\nhimself out of the snow, and found he was not hurt in the least, but\nwhat good would that do? As far as he could see in the pale moonlight,\nthere were only snow-drifts and snow-fields and high mountains. But one\nmountain reached high above all the others, and Sampo guessed that he\nwas now near Rastekais. Here lived the horrible mountain king, who ate a\nreindeer in one mouthful, and swallowed boys like gnats! Now Sampo\nLappelil grew frightened indeed. Ah! how gladly would he have been at\nhome with his father and mother in the warm hut. But how should he get\nthere? Would not the mountain king come and swallow him with his\ntrousers and mittens, as if he were but a poor little gnat?\n\nWell, there sat Sampo Lappelil in the snow and the dark, on Lapland's\nbarren mountain. It was so strange, so frightful to see the high black\nshadow of Rastekais, where the mountain king lived! But it did not help\nhim to sit there and cry, for his tears froze in a moment, and ran like\npeas down on his furry reindeer-skin jacket. So Sampo got up from the\nsnow-drift to run himself warm.\n\n\"If I stand here I shall freeze,\" said he to himself. \"No, rather will I\ngo to the mountain king. If he eat me, then he will eat me. But I will\ntell him that it would be better that he should eat the wolves here on\nthe mountain; they are fatter than I, and he will have less trouble with\ntheir skin than he would with my furs.\"\n\nSampo began to climb up the high mountain. He had not gone far before he\nheard something come stealthily over the snow, and immediately afterward\na great furry wolf sprang out close to his side. Sampo started, his\nlittle Lapp heart beat loud, but he determined to behave as if he were\nnot afraid. \"Don't jump in my way,\" he called to the wolf. \"I have an\nerrand to the mountain king, and if you wish to keep your skin don't do\nme any harm!\"\n\n\"Well, well, take it easy,\" said the wolf, for on Rastekais all the\nanimals could talk. \"Who are you, little fellow, working yourself\nthrough the snow?\"\n\n\"My name is Sampo Lappelil,\" answered the boy. \"And who are you?\"\n\n\"I am the mountain king's highest master-wolf,\" answered the monster,\n\"and have been running from mountain to mountain to bring his people to\nthe great Sun Festival. Since you are coming my way, you can sit up on\nmy back and ride to the king.\"\n\nSampo climbed up on the wolf's furry coat, and they rushed away over\nclefts and precipices.\n\n\"Sun Festival--what does that mean?\" asked Sampo.\n\n\"Don't you know?\" said the wolf. \"After it has been dark in Lapland all\nwinter, and the sun for the first time rises in the sky, then we\ncelebrate. All the animals and all the trolls collect here on Rastekais,\nand on that day no one is allowed to do any harm. That is lucky for you,\nSampo Lappelil, for otherwise, you see, I should have eaten you up a\nlong time ago.\"\n\n\"Is there the same law for the king, too?\" asked Sampo.\n\n\"Of course,\" said the wolf. \"For one hour before the sun rises and for\none hour after it sets, the mountain king dare not touch a hair of your\nhead; but you must take care, after that time; for if you are still on\nthe mountain, then a hundred thousand wolves and a thousand bears will\nrush upon you, and the mountain king will seize the first one he can get\nhold of, and then it will soon be over with Sampo Lappelil.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you will be so kind as to help me back, as soon as there is\ndanger?\" asked Sampo with a beating heart.\n\nThe wolf began to laugh, for on Rastekais the wolves can laugh. \"Don't\nimagine that, dear Sampo,\" said he; \"I will be the first to stick my\nclaws into you. You are a fine fat boy; I see that you have been\nfattened on reindeer's milk and reindeer cheese. You will taste very\ngood for an early breakfast.\"\n\nSampo wondered if it would not be as well to jump down from the wolfs\nback immediately, but it was too late; they had come to the top of the\nmountain, and he saw a wonderful sight. There sat the great mountain\nking on his throne of sky-high rocks, looking far out over mountains and\nvalleys into the dark night. On his head he wore a cap of white\nsnow-clouds; his eyes were like the full moon when it rises over the\nwoods, his nose like a mountain top, his mouth like a mountain cleft,\nhis beard like long icicles; his arms were as thick as the thickest\nfir-tree, his hands were like pine branches, his legs were like\ncoasting-hills in winter, and his great fur coat like a snow mountain.\nIf you ask how any one could see the mountain king and his people in the\nmiddle of the night, then you must know that the snow cast a light upon\neverything, and that over the sky the most beautiful Northern Lights\nplayed.\n\nAround the mountain king sat millions of gray mountain trolls and\nbrownies, so small that when they ran on the frozen snow they left no\nmore trace after them than a squirrel leaves. They had collected here\nfrom the farthest ends of the earth, from Nova Zembla and Spitsbergen\nand Greenland and Iceland--yes, from the North Pole itself, to worship\nthe sun, as savages from fear worship the devil; for the trolls do not\nlike the sun and would prefer that it should never rise again after it\nhas once set behind the barren mountains. Farther away stood all the\nanimals of Lapland in long close rows--a thousand and again a thousand\nbears, wolves, and lynxes, the good reindeer, the little lemming, and\nthe lively reindeer-fleas; but the gnats had not been able to come--they\nwere frozen to death.\n\nAll this Sampo Lappelil saw with wonder. He climbed down quietly from\nthe master-wolf's back and hid himself behind a great stone to see what\nwould happen.\n\nThe mountain king raised his high head so that the snow flew around him;\nand the beautiful Northern Lights stood like a halo about his forehead,\nand shot in long star-shaped, pale-red rays out over the blue night sky;\nthere was a crackling and a roaring like that a forest fire makes when\nits flames leap up against the crowns of the pine-trees; now the Lights\nspread themselves out, now they drew together again; now the brightness\nwas very dazzling, now it grew pale, then one gleam of light after\nanother shot like a sudden shower out over the snow-covered mountain.\nThis pleased the mountain king. He clapped his icy hands, and the echo\nfrom the mountains sounded like thunder, and the trolls whistled with\njoy, and the animals round about screamed with fear. This pleased the\nmountain king still more, so that he called out, loud, over the\nwilderness:\n\n\"So shall it be! So shall it be! Forever winter and forever night! That\nis what I like.\"\n\n\"Yes, so shall it be, so shall it be!\" cried the trolls as loud as they\ncould, for they all liked winter and night better than summer and\nsunshine.\n\nBut among the animals there arose a murmur of talking, for all the\nbeasts of prey and the lemmings thought as the trolls did, while the\nreindeer and the other animals would have found no fault with the\nsummer, if they had not suddenly happened to think of the gnats in\nLapland. It was only the little reindeer-flea who really wanted the\nsummer; he cried as loud as he could: \"Your Majesty, we came here to\nwait for the sun!\"\n\n\"Will you be quiet, you wretched insect!\" growled the white bear, close\nbeside it. \"It is only an old custom that makes us collect together\nhere. But it will be pleasant; the sun will stay away forever. The sun\nis put out! The sun is dead!\"\n\n\"The sun is put out! The sun is dead!\" murmured all the animals, and a\nshiver went through all nature.\n\nThe trolls from the North Pole laughed so that their caps flew off, and\nthe great mountain king raised his voice of thunder and called out over\nthe wilderness: \"So shall it be! So shall it be! The sun is dead. The\nwhole earth shall fall down and worship me, Hiisi, the king of\neverlasting winter and of everlasting night.\"\n\nThat provoked Sampo Lappelil, as he sat behind the stone, and he came\nout and shouted with his little saucy voice: \"You are lying, mountain\nking! you are lying, as tall as you are! Yesterday I saw the forerunner\nof the sun in the sky, and the sun is not dead! Your beard will still\nmelt when it comes midsummer.\"\n\nAt these words the mountain king's brow grew as dark as a black cloud,\nand he forgot the law and stretched out his terrible long arm to crush\nSampo Lappelil. But at that moment the Northern Lights grew pale, and a\nred ray sprang up in the sky and shone straight into the mountain king's\nice-cold face, so that he was suddenly dazzled and let his arm fall.\n\nAnd now the sun's golden rim could be seen lifting itself slowly and\nmajestically up over the horizon, and it lighted up the mountains and\nwildernesses, the snow-drifts and clefts, the trolls and beasts and the\nbrave little Sampo Lappelil. Then all at once a glow spread over the\nsnow, as if many million of roses had rained down upon it, and the sun\nshone into all their eyes, yes, and into all their hearts, too. Even\nthose who had rejoiced because the sun was dead were now really glad to\nsee it again. It was funny to witness the trolls' surprise. They stared\nat the sun with their little gray eyes, from under their red caps, and\nwhile it stayed they became against their will so beside themselves with\njoy that they stood on their heads in the snow. The terrible mountain\nking's beard began to melt and to drip down like a running brook over\nhis great white coat.\n\nWhile they all stood looking at the sun with feelings so different, the\nfirst hour had almost slipped away, and Sampo Lappelil heard one of the\nreindeer say to its little one: \"Come, come, dear child! We must go now\nor we shall be eaten up by the wolves!\"\n\nThen Sampo, too, remembered what he had to expect if he waited there any\nlonger. And as he saw by his side a reindeer with beautiful golden\nhorns, he jumped up on its back, and they rushed off at a gallop over\nthe steep mountain.\n\n\"What can that strange noise be that we hear behind us?\" asked Sampo\nafter a while, when he had got a little used to the violent ride.\n\n\"That is the thousand bears who are coming after us to eat us,\" answered\nthe reindeer. \"But don't be afraid; I am the mountain king's own magic\nreindeer, and no bear has ever gnawed my heels.\"\n\nWhen they had ridden a while longer, Sampo asked: \"What can that be that\nbreathes and moans so strangely behind us?\"\n\nThe reindeer answered: \"That is the hundred thousand wolves who are\ncoming after us at full gallop to tear you and me to pieces. But don't\nbe afraid; no wolf has ever beaten me in a race here in the wilderness.\"\n\nThey rode on a while longer; then Sampo asked: \"Is it thundering in the\nmountains there behind us?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the reindeer, and began to shake in all his limbs. \"That is\nHiisi, the mountain king himself, who is coming with giant steps after\nus; and now it is all over with both of us, for him it is impossible to\nescape.\"\n\n\"Is there no help?\" asked Sampo.\n\n\"No,\" said the reindeer, \"there is nothing to do now but to try to get\nto the parsonage off there near Enare Lake. If we get there we are\nsaved, for the mountain king has no power over Christians.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Sampo, \"run now, my brave reindeer, over mountain and valley,\nand I will give you golden oats in a silver manger!\"\n\nThe reindeer ran and ran; it was a life-and-death race! And they had but\njust reached the priest's house when the mountain king came up outside\nand knocked so hard on the door that every one thought the whole house\nwould fall down. \"Who is that?\" asked the priest.\n\n\"It is I!\" answered a voice of thunder outside.\n\n[Illustration: ON THE BACK OF THE REINDEER WITH GOLDEN HORNS.--_Page\n126_.]\n\n\"Open the door for Hiisi, the mountain king. There\nis an unchristened child within, and all heathen belong to me!\"\n\n\"Wait a minute, until I put on my surplice and collar, so that I can\nreceive so distinguished a guest with proper dignity,\" answered the\npriest.\n\n\"Hurry, then!\" growled the mountain king; \"hurry, or I will kick the\nwalls down.\"\n\n\"Immediately, immediately, sir,\" answered the priest.\n\nBut at the same time he took a bowl of water and christened Sampo\nLappelil with all proper ceremony.\n\n\"Well, are you not ready yet?\" growled the mountain king, and he lifted\nhis terrible foot to kick the house down.\n\nBut the priest opened the door and said: \"Begone, you king of night and\nwinter, for with this child you have nothing to do! The sun of God's\ngrace shines over Sampo Lappelil, and he belongs not to you but to God's\nkingdom!\"\n\nThen the mountain king grew so furious that he burst on the spot and\nturned into a terrible snow-cloud, and it snowed so hard that the snow\nreached up over the roof of the parsonage and they all expected to be\nburied alive. But when the morning came the sun shone on the snow, the\nsnow melted away, and the parsonage and all in it were saved; and there\nwas no sign of the mountain king. Every one thinks, however, that he\nstill lives and reigns on Rastekais.\n\nSampo Lappelil thanked the priest and borrowed a pulk from him. Then he\nharnessed to it the reindeer with the golden horns and went home to his\nfather in Aimio. There was great joy when Sampo Lappelil came back so\nunexpectedly. But how he became a great man and fed his reindeer with\ngolden oats from a silver manger, that is another story, which it would\ntake too long to tell now. It is said that since that time when Sampo\nhad such a narrow escape, the Lapps have never, as before, put off from\nyear to year having their little children christened--for who would like\nto see his child eaten up by the terrible mountain king? Sampo Lappelil\nknows what it means to run that risk! And having heard Hiisi's mighty\nfootsteps, he knows, too, precisely what it is when thunder resounds in\nthe mountains.\n\n                                                       --_Z. Topelius_.\n\n                                       _Translated by Margaret B\u00f6cher_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                      A LEGEND OF MERCY\n\n\nOn one side of the lake there was a large town; on the opposite shore\nstood a little lone cottage. The snow whirled over the frozen lake in\ngreat clouds and the wind was very keen; for it was winter and\nChristmastide in the world.\n\nAt the cottage there was poverty inside, but riches on the roof. Up\nthere stood the great golden sheaf of grain about which the birds of\nheaven gathered joyfully for their Christmas feast, while inside the\ncottage food was scanty, as usual. The peasants' little children,\nhowever, listened happily to the birds' joyous twitter from the\nhousetop, and took great delight in seeing the fine prints of the\nsparrow's tiny feet in the smooth snow roundabout.\n\n\"If we had threshed that grain, instead of giving it to the sparrows, we\nmight have had fresh wheaten rolls for the children for Christmas,\"\nsighed the peasant's wife.\n\n\"Don't you know that the merciful are blessed?\" asked the gentle old\npeasant with a kind glance at his dissatisfied wife.\n\n\"But to let the birds of the air eat our bread,\" she sighed again.\n\n\"Yes, the birds. Furthermore, what matter, even if it were the wild\nbeasts of the forest? Should we not show mercy? Besides, I have saved\nenough to be able to buy four fresh rolls and a can of milk for\nChristmas. Let us send the children across the lake to the town with\ntheir sled. They will easily get back with the things before evening.\"\n\n\"But suppose they meet a wolf on the ice,\" suggested the mother.\n\n\"I will give Arvid a big club,\" said the father. \"He will get along all\nright, having that.\"\n\nSo it happened that Arvid and his sister Hanna went to town to buy the\ntreat of white rolls and milk. By this time the snow was piled in great\ndrifts on the ice, and the children had difficulty in dragging the sled,\nso that when they turned toward home the early darkness was already\nbeginning to settle down. They trudged through the snow as fast as they\ncould, but the drifts were much higher than before, and darkness came on\nin earnest while they still had quite a long distance to go.\n\nAs they struggled on, something black moved in the darkness. When it\ncame nearer, the children saw that it was a wolf.\n\n\"Don't be afraid, Hanna,\" said Arvid. \"I have a good club.\" And with\nthese words, he raised it threateningly.\n\nThe wolf was now close beside the children but made no attempt to harm\nthem. He only howled, but the howling was extraordinary for it sounded\nas if he uttered words in it,--words that the children could understand.\n\"It is so cold, so cold,\" howled the wolf. \"And my little ones have\nnothing to eat. Give me some bread for them in the name of mercy.\"\n\n\"Poor little things!\" said Hanna. \"We will give you _our_ two rolls for\nthem, and we ourselves will eat hard bread to-night, but father and\nmother must have their Christmas treat.\"\n\n\"Many thanks,\" said the wolf as he took the two fresh rolls and glided\naway.\n\nThe children strove on through deeper and deeper snow, but in a little\nwhile they heard some creature treading heavily behind them. It proved\nto be a bear.\n\nThe bear growled out something in his own language, and at first the\nchildren could not find out what he meant although they tried hard; but\nthe bear kept on growling and finally, strangely enough, the children\nunderstood. The bear, too, desired a Christmas gift.\n\n\"It is so cold, so cold,\" growled the big creature. \"All the water\neverywhere is frozen and my poor little ones have nothing to drink. Be\nmerciful and give me a little milk for them.\"\n\n\"How is this?\" asked Arvid. \"Why are you not asleep in your den for the\nwinter, as other bears are? But that is your affair. We will give you\nour half of the milk for your little ones. Hanna and I can very well\ndrink water to-night, if only father and mother have something good for\nChristmas.\"\n\n\"Many thanks,\" said the bear, as he took the milk in a birch-bark cone\nwhich he carried in his fore-paws. Then with slow, pompous steps, he\nlumbered away into the darkness.\n\nThe children waded along through the drifts still more eagerly now, for\nthey could see the Christmas lights shining through the windows of their\nhome; but they had not gone far before an ugly owl came flapping along\nbeside them.\n\n\"I will have bread and milk! I will have bread and milk!\" screamed the\nowl, stretching out her long claws to scratch the children.\n\n\"Oh, ho!\" said Arvid. \"If that is the kind you are, I shall have to\nteach you to be polite.\" So saying, he gave the owl such a clever blow\non the wings with his club that she flew screaming away.\n\nSoon after this the children were at home, gaily beating the snow from\ntheir clothes in the little entry.\n\n\"We have met a wolf!\" shouted Hanna.\n\n\"And given a bear some milk!\" added Arvid.\n\n\"But the owl got a taste of the club!\" laughed Hanna. Then they told all\ntheir adventures.\n\nThe parents looked thoughtfully at each other. How wonderful! To think\nthat their children had shown mercy even to the wild beasts of the\nforest! What would happen next? What did it all mean?\n\nIt was now supper-time. The peasant family gathered at the table upon\nwhich, besides the usual poor fare, was the half portion of the expected\ntreat--all that the children had brought home.\n\nArvid and Hanna wished to eat only dry bread and drink only water, so\nthat their parents might have the Christmas goodies; but the parents\nwould not allow that. They joyfully shared with the children the two\nrolls and the half-tankard of milk which were such luxuries.\n\nBut as they ate, they noticed something very marvelous. However often\nthey broke and broke pieces from either of the rolls, the fresh\ndelicious wheaten rolls never grew smaller; and however often they\npoured milk from the tankard into one bowl after another the milk never\ngrew less!\n\nWhile they were wondering greatly over this, they heard a scratching at\nthe little window, and behold! there stood the wolf and the bear with\ntheir fore-paws against the window pane. Both animals grinned and nodded\nin a knowing, friendly way. An owl could be heard flapping behind them\nin the darkness, and calling out in a hoarse voice to Arvid:\n\n                \"Sometimes hits\n                Sharpen wits.\n                      Hoo, hoo! Hoo, hoo!\n                Not from need\n                But from greed\n                I begged of you.\n                      Hoo, hoo! Hoo, hoo!\"\n\n[Illustration: THERE STOOD THE WOLF AND THE BEAR.--_Page 136_.]\n\nThen her hoarse cries died away in the distance, and the two\nbeasts, after a little more grinning and nodding, disappeared from the\nwindow.\n\nThe peasant and his wife and the children understood now that a blessing\nrested upon their Christmas food because it had been shared in mercy\nwith those that needed it; and they finished their meal in wonder and\nthankfulness.\n\nOn Christmas morning when they went to get their breakfast of dry bread\nand water, not expecting to have anything else, they found to their\namazement that both rolls and milk were as fresh as when the children\nbought them,--and with no sign that the rolls had ever been broken or\nany milk used! And all that day it was the same! There were not only\nriches on the roof, but joy and plenty inside the peasants' cottage,\nwhere the children feasted and sang as gaily as did the sparrows,\nfluttering about their Christmas sheaf of golden grain.\n\n                                               --_Z. Topelius_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                        ANTON'S ERRAND\n                              _OR\n             THE BOY WHO MADE FRIENDS BY THE WAY_\n\n\nFar to the South lies a beautiful land. High forest-clad mountains lift\nthemselves toward the sky, and between them spreads a wide fruitful\nvalley. A mighty river rushes southward singing of courage and joy, and\nfrom the mountains the merry brooks come hurrying along, the one faster\nthan the other, as if racing to see which would get down first.\n\nIn the fields, the grass is tall and full of flowers, the grain waves\nlike a billowy sea, and the fruit trees bend beneath the weight of rich\nfruits. But more than all else, grapevines grow here. The vines twine\nthemselves in an endless wreath through the valley; and in the long\narcades hang millions of clusters of grapes cooking themselves ripe in\nthe sun's heat.\n\nFrom olden times, an industrious folk lived in this valley cultivating\ntheir fields and pruning their vines. They gathered themselves together\ninto small towns which were dotted here and there in the valley's green\nexpanse like birds' nests in a spreading tree. On the surrounding\nheights rose the proud castles where the nobles lived. They tyrannized\nover the farmers in the valley, and if the poor peasants made the least\ncomplaint, down from the cliffs came the barons, like eagles from their\neyries, and dug their claws into their defenseless prey.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMany, many years ago, a powerful baron named Rudolf Reinhold Rynkebryn\nlived in one of the largest of the mountain castles. He had, by force\nand violence, made himself Lord over one of the cities in the valley,\nand all who lived there must toil and moil for the hard master on\nFalkensten.\n\nWhen the grain was ripe and the meal ground, many hundred bags of it\nmust be carried on horses' backs up to the mountain castle; and when the\ngrapes were ripe and the wine pressed out, many hundred barrels must go\nthe same way.\n\nSo had it been for many years, but at last the peasants grew tired of\nthis state of things, and gathered together for consultation.\n\n\"There is no sense in it,\" said an old man. \"Here we plow and sow and\nreap and grind so that Rynkebryn can swallow the bread that belongs to\nus and our children.\"\n\n\"Yes. Isn't that the truth?\" said another. \"Isn't it a sin and a shame,\nalso? We plant vines and prune them in the sweat of our brows and when\nthe grapes are ripe, the wine we make must go to Falkensten so that\nRynkebryn and his men may drink themselves crazy and descend like birds\nof prey upon us poor peasants. We should not endure it any longer.\"\n\n\"No, we _will_ not endure it any longer!\" shouted all in chorus. Then it\nwas determined that they should send Rynkebryn a letter, in which they\nrenounced their allegiance to him.\n\nFor the future he might get his bread and his wine wherever he chose.\nNeither bag nor barrel should go from the valley to Falkensten.\n\nOh, yes! To come to this decision was easy. Nor was there any great\ndifficulty about getting the letter written. The Mayor himself wrote it;\nand upon the letter he set the city's great seal which bore a sheaf\npierced by a sword.\n\nThe difficulty was to find a messenger to deliver the letter, for every\none well knew that he who carried such a message to the Baron of\nFalkensten would not return alive to the valley.\n\nAll to whom the mission was proposed immediately raised objections. One\nhad no clothes, another had pains in his legs, another could by no means\nbe spared from home, and another was sure he could never find the way up\nthere. Oh, there were many difficulties about taking that particular\nletter to the Baron!\n\nFinally someone said, \"Why not send little Anton?\" And immediately all\nshouted, \"Yes, that is an excellent plan. Anton can go with the letter.\"\n\nAnton was a poor boy, usually called \"little Anton.\" He had neither\nfather nor mother nor sister nor brother, but had been brought up among\nother poor children of the town in the Cloister School. Now that he was\ntwelve or thirteen years old, he must take care of himself, and since he\ncould do small jobs of all sorts, people made use of him, here, there\nand everywhere.\n\nHe helped to dig in the vineyards, to lay stone and mortar when a house\nwas to be built; he ran with messages and letters out to the country\nroundabout; and as he could manage the most spirited horse, he drove,\ntoo, if there were no other driver to be had. He often took care of the\nbabies while their mothers were out at work; he carded wool and picked\nhops; he sang at funerals and played at weddings.\n\nIndeed, there was scarcely anything for which they did not use little\nAnton. He was quick of foot and light of hand, true as gold and silent\nas a locked box, so every one liked him and gave him plenty to do.\n\nThe Mayor himself went to little Anton and told him that the whole city\nhad decided to entrust to him a very important errand. He was to go to\nFalkensten with a letter to Baron Rynkebryn. Of what was in the letter\nthe Mayor said nothing, for if he had, little Anton would have realized\nthat he was risking his life.\n\nThe others realized it very decidedly, but they reasoned thus: \"Little\nAnton is a poor lone child, with no parents to mourn him, and if\nanything happens to him,--well!--we must hope that all is for the best.\nIt is surely better that he should perish than that we who have wives\nand children should. Besides, the town is full of these little poor boys\nwhom we can get to help us when we need them.\"\n\nAnton took the big letter, turned it over and over in his hands, and\nasked if there would be any answer.\n\nThe Mayor became a little embarrassed and took a pinch of snuff. He\ncould not look Anton straight in the face as he replied, \"Answer? No, I\ndo not think there will be any answer.\"\n\n\"So I can come right back?\" queried little Anton.\n\n\"Yes, indeed. Deliver the letter and take to your heels as soon as you\ncan.\"\n\nThe next day, early in the morning, Anton put on his thickest shoes,\nstuffed a couple of rolls and a small bottle of wine into his pocket,\nslung an old gun over his shoulder and started on his long tramp from\nthe valley to Falkensten. He could see the castle high, high up like an\neagle's nest, on the top of a cliff from which it looked out over three\ndifferent valleys, many, many miles away.\n\nIt was a hot August day. The sky was without a cloud and the sun stood\nand smiled its broadest on the vineyards where the grapes steamed and\ncooked in the heat. Vines were planted on the lowest slopes of the\nmountain, so here Anton could walk up the stone steps between the\nwalls. He turned and saw the city which looked shining and gay in the\nsunlight. The church was white as snow, and the hands on the clock\nglittered like gold.\n\nBy and by the vineyards ended and Anton came to some fields. The grass\nhad already been cut for the second time and the fields were deserted.\nNot a person was to be seen.\n\nNext he came to the forest of chestnut-trees. From here everything in\nthe valley looked very small; houses and farms, and even the church,\nlooked like toys spread out on a green carpet. The sun glowed hotter and\nhotter, and Anton took off his jacket, and walked on, in his\nshirt-sleeves. The road grew steeper and steeper. He was hot and thirsty\nso he sat down in the shade of a rock and took out his bottle of wine.\n\nWhen he had refreshed himself, he leaned back, humming a little song and\nidly striking the ground with a switch he had broken from a bush.\n\nAs he sat there, he heard a soft rustling at his side and saw a little\nlizard come from the wall of rock and creep forth among the ferns. It\nwriggled its supple little body out into the sunshine and then lay\nperfectly still in front of Anton, gazing at him with its clear eyes.\n\n\"That was a beautiful song you sang,\" said the lizard. \"Would you be so\nkind as to sing it once more? I am foolishly crazy over music.\"\n\n\"I can certainly do that much for you,\" answered Anton, and hummed the\nsong again. He kept the switch behind him now, not wishing the lizard to\nsee that he had it.\n\nThe lizard lay perfectly still, listening, but when the song was\nfinished the little creature said to Anton, \"Come, Anton, what are you\nreally thinking of? I think your dark eyes have a sly look in them.\nSurely you are not, by any chance, intending to harm me?\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know!\" said Anton, smacking his whip. \"But I do think it\nmight be amusing to give you a hit with this so that you snapped in two\nlike a piece of glass.\"\n\n\"Do you think so?\" asked the lizard drawing its tail close. \"Well,\nwell! How strange! It seems to me that would not be at all amusing. I\nthink it is much more amusing to live, to lie here and enjoy myself in\nthe sunshine.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE LIZARD LAY PERFECTLY STILL, LISTENING--_Page 146_.]\n\nAnton began to laugh, but continued to beat the ground with his switch.\n\n\"Listen, Anton,\" said the lizard. \"I have really such a very short time\nto live. Let me go in peace. Don't do me any harm. Perhaps I can be of\nuse to you some day. You may be sure you will never regret it if you let\nme go.\"\n\n\"What could such a forlorn little creature as you ever do for me?\" asked\nAnton, as he got up. \"But since you ask me so prettily, I will let you\nrun. Suppose we see which of us will get to Falkensten first.\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall, I shall!\" hissed the lizard; and it hurried away through\nthe grass, calling back, however, \"Farewell, Anton; you may be sure I\nshall not lose sight of you.\" With that, the lizard disappeared and\nAnton resumed his toilsome journey.\n\nThe sun mounted higher and higher and the whole sky was like a sea of\nburning light. The houses and churches in the valley looked now like\nmany tiny white stones scattered over the ground. The path, steeper and\nsteeper, led through a grove of larches, and here little Anton must\nagain rest. He took two big swallows from his bottle, and wiped his hot\nface with his shirt-sleeves.\n\nHearing a strange cracking sound over his head and looking up, he saw a\nlittle squirrel that sat on the branch of a neighboring larch, eating\nthe seeds from a cone. Between the mouthfuls he spat the shells down,\nchattering softly meanwhile as if to say, \"What an excellent breakfast\nthis is! Truly a delicious breakfast!\"\n\nAnton took his old gun quietly from his shoulder, got down on his knees,\nand crept carefully along. He held the gun by its barrel. With the butt\nend he could easily enough hit the little squirrel. But the alert\ncreature, which was watching him with keen, anxious eyes, saw him before\nhe had raised the butt end, and with a couple of big leaps, reached a\nhigher branch of the tree.\n\n\"What are you going to do to me?\" asked the frightened squirrel, poking\nhis little head out. \"What is it you really want to do to me?\"\n\n\"Oh, I should just like to have your tail!\" said Anton. \"It would be a\nnice fur collar for me when the autumn storms howl from the mountain\ntops.\"\n\n\"But I would so much rather keep my tail myself,\" said the squirrel,\nraising it as high as he could in the air. \"You see I was born with this\ntail, and therefore it is mine; and so, if you kill me and take it away\nfrom me, you are a thief,--a thief,--a real little tail-stealer!\"\n\n\"You must stop saying such rude words,\" said Anton, lifting the gun. \"If\nI can only catch you, your tail will be mine.\"\n\n\"No, stop, stop!\" shrieked the squirrel, springing about in the\nbranches. \"It is horrid and ugly and disgusting of you. I don't want to\nbe crushed with the butt end of a gun. It is ugly of you to think of\nit, ugly, ugly! And to be broken off in the middle of my nice breakfast\nto be murdered is truly most unpleasant. Would you like that, little\nAnton?\"\n\nThe squirrel still leaped and sprang from branch to branch in fright.\nAnton laid his gun on the ground.\n\n\"Oh, little Anton!\" piped the squirrel. \"Let me alone! Let me hop\naround, a happy living squirrel. That is so much better and pleasanter!\"\n\n\"Well, hop then,\" said Anton, throwing the gun over his shoulder again.\n\"I am afraid I should dream of the frightened look in your eyes. And now\nwe might see which of us can get to Falkensten first.\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall, I shall!\" called the squirrel, wild with joy. \"If you are\ngoing to Falkensten, I shall go, too. No harm shall happen to you while\nI am able to hop.\" With that, the squirrel set off with long leaps from\ntree to tree, and soon disappeared; and Anton walked on up the mountain.\n\nThe air became more and more sultry. The sky, which had been bright\nblue, grew white in some places, and the white ran together like thick\nmilk and heaped itself in close masses. The sun was no longer to be\nseen. The clouds changed to gray and violet and dark-blue, with glowing\nedges, and thunder began to roll among the mountains. Anton could not\nsee the valley now at all. The lofty peaks towered one behind another,\nand there seemed to be nothing else in the world. The path grew steeper\nand yet steeper.\n\nLittle Anton began to be frightfully tired. He had to lie down again and\nagain on the ground, groaning with weariness. Not a drop more of the\nrefreshing sour wine did he have to quench his thirst,--the bottle had\nbeen drained long ago.\n\nSuddenly he heard a rushing sound, and lo! from the rock bubbled a white\nfoaming stream of water, so fresh and living that one could not\nunderstand how it could gush forth from the dead stones. Anton knelt\ndown and drank eagerly from his hands. Never had he found any draught so\nwonderfully reviving.\n\nWhen he had quenched his thirst, he thought he would resume his journey,\nbut at that instant he caught sight of a dove flying toward him. It was\na charming wood-dove, with blue-flecked wings and a little round head.\nThe dove must, like him, have been thirsty, for she flew directly to the\nfoaming water and bent over it to drink. \"That is a lovely bird,\"\nthought Anton; and he took his gun noiselessly from his shoulder. \"I can\nsurely hit her.\"\n\nHe had laid the gun to his cheek and was taking aim, when the dove\nlifted her head from the water and fluttered her wings.\n\n\"Why should you shoot me, little Anton?\" she asked. \"You have quenched\nyour thirst and I have quenched mine. The spring has been good to both\nof us. Why should you do evil to me?\"\n\n\"You have such beautiful wings,\" said Anton. \"It would look fine if I\nstretched you out flat and fastened you on the barn door.\"\n\n\"It looks much finer when I float upward toward the sunlight,\" said the\ndove. \"The mountain path is difficult for you, little Anton; but you\nare at least free to pursue your way. Let me fly mine. Here in these\nsolitudes no one should do another harm.\"\n\nThe dove looked so gentle and talked in such friendly tones that Anton\nfelt thoroughly ashamed of himself.\n\n\"Yes, fly away, little dove, fly wherever you will,\" said he, waving his\nhands. \"We might see which of us two will get to Falkensten first.\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall!\" responded the dove, lifting her wings. \"But if it is to\nthat fierce Baron you are taking a message, I prefer to wait outside on\nthe tower.\" Then up she flew.\n\nThe sky was now one dark mass of thunder-clouds. The thunder rumbled\namong the mountains; the green fields on the heights shone out like\nemeralds against the dark blue haze beyond. All creatures had become\nwonderfully silent; not a bird sang, not an insect hummed. Anton went\nforward with dragging step, and the dove floated silently above him,--a\nwhite speck against the dark sky.\n\nBut what was that high up there on the cliff? It was a little chamois\nthat stood with all its four feet close together on a point of rock, and\nlooked about.\n\n\"Hurrah! I shall get you!\" thought Anton as he cocked his gun; but the\nchamois with a couple of nimble bounds sprang farther up the mountain.\n\n\"Ho, ho! That won't help you any!\" said Anton, running nearer to the\nrocks where the chamois stood. \"I am a good shot, let me tell you; and I\nmust have prey of some sort to take with me from the mountain.\"\n\n\"But why should you kill me?\" asked the chamois, bounding a little\nfarther away. \"What harm have I ever done to you? Does it annoy you that\nI stand here and look at the view?\"\n\n\"No, but you have such handsome little horns. I should like to put them\nup over my door as a sign that I had conquered you.\"\n\n\"For you to conquer me would be easy,\" said the chamois. \"You have a\ngun, and I have nothing. But I had always believed that the mountain\nwas made for us both.\"\n\nAnton made no reply but scrambled hastily up the rocks to get nearer the\nchamois.\n\n\"Oh, Anton, little Anton! let me alone!\" called the chamois, making the\nlongest leap it could. \"I would truly rather have my horns on my head\nthan over your door! Cannot you understand that? If you love your\nfreedom, let me keep mine.\"\n\nAt that moment the thunder pealed with a frightful crash among the\nmountains. Anton became altogether uncomfortable and put his gun down.\n\"Leap where you will, then,\" he called to the chamois. \"Perhaps we might\nsee which of us can get to Falkensten first.\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall, surely,\" said the chamois, starting off with a big leap.\n\"But I will wait for you outside the castle wall, and if you need my\nhelp you will know where to find me.\" And with these words the chamois\nvanished.\n\n\"Shall I never, never reach Falkensten?\" groaned Anton. He was dead\ntired and began to think he had gone astray, but suddenly, at a turn in\nthe path, the castle stood before him as if it had sprung up out of the\nearth.\n\nIt was of the same color as the rocks upon which it was built, and how\nbig and high and thick-walled it was! It had but few windows scattered\nhere and there on the side toward the path. From the tower waved\nRynkebryn's banner,--a fiery red flag on which was a black falcon. The\ndrawbridge that led over to the castle was drawn up, and over the chasm\nthat was between the rocks on which the castle was built and the other\nrocks, there was only a rough narrow bridge, made of slender branches\nplaced side by side.\n\nAnton stood still. It would be dangerous to go over such a bridge\nwithout any kind of a railing to hold fast to; but he must deliver the\nletter. Just then he heard something whispering at his feet:\n\n  \"Since you can't glide like me, and creep,\n  Be wise; cross not the chasm deep.\"\n\nIt was the little lizard that came hurrying toward him with this\nwarning.\n\n\"But how should I then get the message to Baron Rynkebryn?\" said Anton.\nHe had already started across the bridge.\n\nAnd now something came hopping along at his side. It was the squirrel\nwith his red tail high in the air like a flag, and with wide-open eyes;\nand while he hopped about Anton's feet he chattered:\n\n \"Since you can't hop like me, and climb,\n That castle shun; be warned in time!\"\n\n\"But how then should I attend to my errand?\" Anton was now half-way\nacross the bridge.\n\nAs he stood there, the dove came flying and floating on her wings above\nthe abyss.\n\n \"Since you can't float and fly like me,\n Turn back, turn back and homeward flee,\"\n\nsaid the dove, flying near Anton's cheek.\n\n\"Yes, that I will do when once I have given the Baron his letter,\" said\nAnton, \"but I don't turn back when I am half-way over the bridge, nor\nflee homeward until my errand is done.\"\n\nSo he proceeded. The thin branches in the loosely-made bridge creaked\nand bent under his feet. On both sides of him was the dizzy chasm. He\nhad a queer pain in his heart and everything turned black before his\neyes; but he pressed his hands against his breast where he had hidden\nthe letter, kept his gaze straight ahead, and walked on with firm step.\nThere! Now he could draw a long breath, a sigh of relief; for he was at\nlast safely across the frail bridge,--on the other side of the chasm,\nand under the castle wall.\n\nAt first he could see no opening in the wall; it stretched up as hard\nand impenetrable as the rock upon which it stood, but when Anton stole\naround it, he found a small door,--an iron door with many locks and\nfastenings. He picked up a stone and knocked hard on the door, but no\none answered. Everything around him was still as death.\n\nSuddenly he heard a strange rumbling sound, which he thought at first\nmight be the echo of the thunder among the rocks; but no. The sound came\nfrom the hall where Baron Rynkebryn and his men sat and\ndrank, and roared with laughter loud enough to make the castle tremble.\n\n[Illustration: \"TURN BACK, TURN BACK,\" SAID THE DOVE.--_Page 157_.]\n\nSince no one seemed to hear Anton, he lost patience, took his gun which\nwas still loaded and shot it off. He could hear the echoes answer from\nmountain to mountain and at last die away; but now there were signs of\nlife in the castle. A man opened a shutter high up in the tower and\ncalled, \"Who shoots under Falkensten Castle? Is it friend or foe?\"\n\nAnton put both hands to his mouth and shouted back, \"A friend! A friend!\nA messenger from the valley!\" Then he heard the man slam the shutter to,\ncome with a clatter down the stairs, trudge across the courtyard, and\nbegin to rattle the locks and bolts of the iron door. At last the door\nopened slowly and a gruff-looking warrior stood before little Anton.\n\n\"What do you want?\" asked the warrior. His voice sounded like a bear's.\n\"What have you to say to the Lord of Falkensten?\"\n\n\"That I must tell to Baron Rynkebryn himself,\" answered Anton. \"The\nmessage is to him and none other.\"\n\n\"Listen to the young sparrow that dares to come into the falcon's nest!\"\nsaid the warrior, but he opened the door just wide enough for Anton to\nslip in.\n\nAs the boy turned in the doorway, he caught sight of the chamois which\nstood on a stone beside the chasm, stretching its head forward.\n\n\"Yes, here I am!\" called the chamois. \"I will keep on the watch by the\nwall, so you will know where to find me!\"\n\nAt that instant the heavy iron door clanged shut after Anton, and he was\nat last inside the walls of Falkensten. His steps echoed with a hollow\nsound in the small courtyard; and it was dark and damp as a cellar,\ninside the castle on the great winding stairs that led to the baronial\nhall. Little Anton felt his heart beating like a hammer and choking him,\nwhen the warrior opened the door to the hall and let him pass in.\n\nAt the end of a long oaken table sat Baron Rynkebryn and his retainers,\ndrinking. Their eyes were bloodshot like those of an angry bull, and\nthey laughed and shouted so that the high rafters shook. Little Anton\nsqueezed himself into a corner near the door and stood, hat in hand,\nwaiting until Rynkebryn should speak to him.\n\nLong did he wait, for the Baron was wholly absorbed in his carousing.\nThe wine flowed over his beard; he sat with both arms leaning on the\ntable and laughed till his bones rattled. Suddenly his eye fell upon\nAnton.\n\n\"Who is that little whipper-snapper shivering there by the door?\" he\nasked, pointing with his big finger. So Anton had to go forward. He\nbowed many times as he crossed the room, each bow deeper than the last,\nand when he reached the Baron, he took the letter from his breast and\npresented it.\n\nThe Baron snatched it from him and began to read it, Anton meanwhile\nstanding still and looking out of the tower window. Never before had he\nseen so far out into the world. One mountain chain after another\ngleamed forth, lit by the sun; streams lay like narrow white ribbons in\nthe valley; and the boundless sky arched over all, its big\nthunder-clouds looking like mountains above the other mountains. Anton\nforgot entirely where he was while gazing at all this glory; but he was\nawakened to reality by a roar from Rynkebryn.\n\n\"So this is the kind of message you bring me, is it?\" he screamed, and\nhe struck his fist on the table so violently that the wine bottles\ntumbled over, and the rich red wine ran in streams across the white\ncloth, like blood. \"How dare you bring such a letter to the Lord of\nFalkensten?\"\n\n\"How should I know what was in the letter?\" asked Anton. He trembled\nlike an aspen leaf. \"I do not read the letters people trust me with.\"\n\n\"Oh, you don't, don't you?\" roared Rynkebryn. He had first grown red as\nthe wine he drank, but now he was as white as the table-cloth. \"It might\nhave been well for you if you had peeped into this letter. If you had, I\nthink you would have turned back with it. Herein\"--he shook the letter\ntill it rattled--\"herein those traitors of the valley renounce their\nallegiance to me; and he who goes on errands for traitors is a traitor\nhimself and shall die a traitor's death. Do you understand that, you\nmiserable little worm?\"\n\nAnton tried to speak, but could not get a word over his lips. He grew\nicy cold and shook as if he had the ague.\n\n\"But I shall revenge myself on that pack,\" shouted Rynkebryn. \"I shall\ndescend upon them like an overwhelming horror, like a thief in the\nnight, and lay their land waste. Sure as death, before three nights have\npassed there shall be neither stick nor stone left of their city in the\nvalley.\"\n\n\"Shall I tell them that?\" asked Anton, in a low, frightened voice.\n\n\"No, you can spare yourself the trouble!\" shouted Rynkebryn, laughing.\n\"I shall say it to them myself with a drawn sword. No, my little\nfriend,\"--his eyes glared horribly, \"you shall have a night's lodging at\nFalkensten. Your guest-chamber is ready. You shall march down to the\ncastle prison, and there you can lie and amuse yourself guessing what\ndeath you are to die in the morning. Let me see. I must think of\nsomething very fine. I might, for instance, hit you with a club so that\nyou broke in two like a piece of glass. That might be very amusing to\nsee. Ha! ha! ha!\"\n\nAnton shuddered. He remembered that he had threatened the little lizard\nwith this very treatment, and had had the same idea that it would be\namusing to see.\n\n\"Or,\" continued the Baron, \"I could crush you with one whack of my gun,\nso!--That would be very quickly done.\"\n\nThe icy shivers ran down Anton's back. Just this kind of terror that he\nwas feeling must the squirrel have felt when Anton threatened him with\nthe butt of his gun.\n\n\"Or I could fasten you out on the castle wall, as one fastens a bird\nthat has been shot upon a barn door. There you could hang as a warning\nto traitors, until you fell to pieces,\" growled Rynkebryn, stroking his\nbeard.\n\nThings turned black before Anton's eyes. \"Oh!\" he thought with anguish.\n\"This is just the way I threatened the dove, the innocent little\ncreature!\"\n\n\"Or I could chop your head off!\" roared Rynkebryn, rushing toward Anton\nwith clenched fists. \"Then I could put your head on top of the tower\nwhere there is a glorious view. What a treat that would be for you!\" All\nthe men laughed so hard at this that they had to hold their sides.\n\nBut little Anton did not laugh. He stood there thinking, with deep\nremorse, how he had threatened to take the life of the harmless chamois,\nand put its horns over the door. \"Oh, God be praised that I let it run!\"\nhe thought; but just then Rynkebryn's men caught hold of him, tied him\nsecurely, hand and foot, with strong rope, and took him to the castle\nprison.\n\nDark and damp indeed was the prison cell. It had no windows except, high\nup in the wall, a little opening with strong iron bars across it. The\nmen threw Anton on the floor and then went out, locking the door after\nthem with so many locks that Anton knew he could never open that door,\neven if he had both his hands free.\n\nThere he lay, looking up at the barred window. The sunset glowed through\nit still, but faded little by little, and darkness came on. High in the\nsky the stars twinkled out, one after another. And Anton lay and thought\nthat when their light was quenched again, his life was to be put out, as\nif it were but a spark. What made him most unhappy was the thought that\nhe could not get a message to the city in the valley, so that some one\nmight know that Rynkebryn, the next night, was going to creep upon them\nlike a thief, burn their city and devastate their land.\n\nHe laid his head on the damp floor of the cell and began to cry. All at\nonce he heard something rustle,--a queer little sound. He thought it\nmight be a rat that would bite him, and drew his legs up close; but\nsomething small came creeping lightly over him right up to his cheek.\n\"Don't be afraid,\" it whispered. \"It is only I, the little lizard you\nmet on your way. I have hurried at your heels the whole time, until you\ndisappeared through the castle door. But how have you brought yourself\nto this? You should have followed my advice and turned back in\ntime,--you who can neither creep nor glide.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" sighed poor Anton. \"But it is too late to think of that, and\nno one in the world can help me now.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" answered the lizard, \"one should never give up hope. Since I could\nget into the castle prison, we shall manage to get you out.\" And with\nthat the tiny creature rustled away in the darkness.\n\nA minute or two after, little Anton saw something black against the\nbarred window. It squeezed itself between the bars and dropped with a\nthump to the floor.\n\n\"Here am I,\" chattered the squirrel, hopping to Anton. \"What foolishness\nhas been going on here?\"\n\n\"As you see,\" replied Anton, \"I am captured and bound, and in the\nmorning I am to die.\"\n\n\"Oh, in the morning!\" said the squirrel. \"It is a long time to morning.\nMuch can happen before the sun gets up again.\"\n\n\"But I cannot stir hand or foot,\" said Anton. \"Don't you see how they\nhave tied my hands behind my back?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes! I see that well enough,\" replied the squirrel, opening his big\neyes wider than ever. \"Where are the knots?\" And with one jump he was on\nAnton's back, beginning immediately to gnaw at the knots with his small\npointed teeth. He bit and pulled at the rope so that his little body\nshook with the effort; and it was not long before Anton felt the\nloosening at his wrists and afterward at his ankles. All at once the\nropes fell off and he was free.\n\n\"Oh, you blessed little animal!\" said Anton, hugging and kissing the\nsquirrel. \"Now I am a free person again, and not a tied-up bundle!\"\n\n\"Yes, but there is still the high, barred window,\" said the squirrel.\n\"We must have the dove's help now.\" And he sprang up to the window and\nvanished through it.\n\nLittle Anton stood looking after him, but suddenly he could no longer\nsee the stars and the sky as before, for they were blotted out by\nsomething that filled the whole window. He soon saw that it was the dove\nflapping her out-spread wings against the bars. She could not get in,\nbut she had something in her bill which she let fall through the window.\nIt clanged as it hit the floor, and when Anton stooped to pick it up, he\nsaw that it was a file.\n\n\"I found that in Rynkebryn's own window where it lay, ready to be used\nfor his evil purposes; but now it shall help you out of prison,\" said\nthe dove.\n\nNo one would have imagined they could do it, but the squirrel and the\ndove helped Anton to get the ropes he had been tied with up to the\nwindow, and to fasten them there so firmly that he could climb up the\nropes. Then he filed and filed at the iron bars till his hands bled,\nwhile the lizard ran up and down the wall saying: \"Make haste! Make\nhaste! It will soon be morning!\"\n\nBut the sun had not yet risen when little Anton stood, rescued and free,\non the rocks outside the castle wall.\n\nAnd there was the chamois waiting for him!\n\n\"Seat yourself on my back, little Anton!\" said the chamois. \"And hold\ntight! for we are going to gallop down the mountain so fast that straps\nand buckles would not keep you on!\"\n\nSo Anton got on the chamois' back and held tight. This was necessary\nindeed; for slow as it had been trudging up the mountain, he now went\ndown with a speed like that of a stone which, being tossed, bounds from\nrock to rock as it strikes them on its downward-flying way.\n\n\"I shall fall! I shall fall!\" shouted Anton, clinging for dear life to\nthe chamois' neck. \"I shall pitch off head first!\"\n\n\"Oh, no! You won't fall,\" said the chamois; \"nor I, either. I am very\nsure-footed,\" and on it leaped as fast as ever.\n\nJust as the sun rose, Anton stood at the Mayor's door and knocked. The\nMayor himself came to open it, and was overwhelmed with wonder when he\nsaw little Anton standing there as alive as ever, and without so much as\na hair of his head hurt!\n\n\"I come with bad tidings,\" said Anton. \"If you don't look out, you will\nhave Rynkebryn and his men after you before you know it; and he is not\ngoing to spare any of you,--yourselves or your property. Every one had\nbetter be armed and ready.\"\n\nThe next night, Baron Rynkebryn with all his warriors came sneaking down\nthe mountain expecting to take the peasants by surprise, and to catch\nthem all as one catches rats in a trap; and he felt himself completely\nfooled when he found the peasants on the alert and prepared to give him\na warm welcome! From all the country round had the town folk summoned\nhelp, and the men were armed with lances and javelins, with scythes and\npitchforks; and there was nothing for Rynkebryn to do but to hasten up\nthe mountain again as fast as his legs could carry him. But the\npeasants followed him all the way to Falkensten, gathered brushwood and\nbranches which they heaped about the castle, and then set on fire,\ndetermined to destroy that den of thieves. It blazed and flamed like a\nbonfire and sent ruddy light far and near. The wicked Baron Rynkebryn\nand his men were forced to flee and to hide like wild eagles high up in\ndesolate clefts of the mountains.\n\nAnd now there was nothing good that the people did not wish to do for\nlittle Anton! They would have him to be Mayor, and a great festival\nshould be held in his honor in the palatial hall of the Council House.\nBut little Anton only thanked them over and over. He had not the least\ndesire in the world to be Mayor, neither did he care to sit and feast\nand sing with those who had recently sent him out on that dangerous\nerrand without troubling themselves at all as to what would happen to\nhim.\n\nTherefore, he asked only that he might have what he needed in order to\ngive a party to his nearest and dearest friends. Oh, yes! The people\nwould gladly give him anything; he need only say what he wished for.\n\n[Illustration: THE MAYOR WAS OVERWHELMED WITH WONDER.--_Page 171_.]\n\nThen Anton said he would like one vest-pocket full of grain, and the\nother full of small snails; and one trousers-pocket full of nuts, and\nthe other full of salt. He would like also a loaf of white bread, a\nbottle of wine and a handful of fresh peaches.\n\nThe people thought his wishes were very peculiar indeed; but he received\nwhat he had asked for and then started toward the mountain.\n\nA little later, as he sat under a chestnut-tree and looked out over the\nvalley, he heard the drums and trumpets from the festival in the Council\nHouse, where the people sat and feasted, and shouted hurrahs for their\nold Mayor. A spring bubbled near him; the chestnut-tree shaded him; the\nsun shone on the vineyards below, while high up at the top of the\nmountain, smoke was still rising from the ruins of Falkensten.\n\nHe had spread his table on the fresh green grass. There lay the bread\nand the peaches and beside them stood the flask of wine; but before he\nbegan to eat, he invited his guests to take their food. The lizard had\nall the little snails; the dove ate grain from Anton's one hand, while\nthe chamois licked salt from the other; but the little squirrel sat\nabove in the chestnut-tree and stuffed himself up to his throat with\nnuts, throwing all the shells down upon little Anton's head.\n\n                                              --_Helena Nyblom_.\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                       THE FOREST WITCH\n\n\nIt was in the earliest springtime. In the shade the air was still quite\ncold; but where the clear and strong sunshine streamed down, one could\nsee that spring had come, for there the blossoms were beginning to\nstretch upward on their tiny stalks.\n\nA couple of children were walking through the forest: a ten-year-old\ngirl, named Nina, and her little brother Johannes.\n\nThey were seeking flowers. Nina had to find them because the flowers\nwere too tiny and too much hidden for so small a child as Johannes to\ndiscover them for himself, but she always let him have the pleasure of\npicking them.\n\nIt was such a joyous spring walk that Nina did not notice how far they\nwere straying away from their grandmother's hut, back of the hill. This\nlittle hut had been their home only for a short time. When their dear\nfather and mother died, their grandmother had kindly taken them to live\nwith her; and this was their first walk in the forest.\n\nAt last Nina thought they ought to go back, but just as she turned\naround with Johannes by the hand, who should stand before them but a\nhideous old creature, more glaring and frightful than you can imagine!\n\n\"What are you doing here, you wretched children?\" she shrieked; \"are you\nplucking flowers in my forest? Then shall I pluck you, you may believe!\"\n\n\"Oh, pardon us,\" cried Nina; \"we did not know that we must not pick\nflowers here. We are strangers in this forest. Pray, pray pardon us.\"\n\n\"_Snikkesnak!_\" (fiddlestick!) answered the terrific old Witch, for such\nthe creature was. \"Don't talk to me! I never pay any attention to what\nchildren say; nor to old folks' talk either, for that matter. Indeed I\ndon't! Snikkesnak! snikkesnak! But it is not you that I want, silly\ngirl. It is the boy there who has offended me. The little rascal! It is\nhe who picked the flowers. Now I shall take him!\"\n\n\"Oh! take me, take me instead,\" cried Nina in terror, flinging her arms\naround her brother. \"It is my fault! I showed him the flowers, and let\nhim pick them. You've no right to take him! Oh! do take me; he is too\nlittle.\"\n\n\"_Snikkesnak!_\" answered the Witch; \"what a lot of talk! But you are right;\nthe boy is small to come into my service, so I suppose I shall have to take\nyou. Now listen well to what I say. Spring and summer are coming and I\nshall have no work for you then; so I shall not trouble myself about you\nfor the present. But when autumn has come and gone, and all the leaves and\nflowers have disappeared, then are we very busy in the underground world.\nThen you may believe that I shall teach you how to work! and I live deep\ndown, very, very deep! Now you may go; but I will make a bargain with you.\nWhen the last flower is faded--listen!--when the last flower is faded, meet\nme here on this spot--or--or----\"\n\nThe old Witch stopped to think what she could best threaten Nina with.\nHer wicked eyes glared around for an instant till she noticed that Nina\nstood, with her arms about her little brother, ready to ward off any\nevil that might come upon him.\n\n\"Or I shall come and catch this little rascal, and twist his arms and\nlegs all out of joint!\" screamed the Witch, shaking her knotty stick at\nlittle Johannes.\n\nThen, after a dark glance at Nina, she shuffled off through the forest,\nwith the crows shrieking after her, and the leaves and flowers trembling\non every side.\n\nAs soon as the Witch was out of sight, Nina hastened home with Johannes.\nLike a kind sister she suited her frightened pace to his, so that he\nshould not stumble and fall.\n\nThe poor little boy had been so terrified at the Witch that he had not\nin the least understood the cruel threats she had used against him,\nor the dreadful fate which was in store for Nina.\n\n[Illustration: NINA STOOD WITH ARMS AROUND HER LITTLE BROTHER.--_Page\n178_.]\n\nNina was rejoiced that this was so; for then he could not tell their\ngrandmother what the Witch had said, and she herself would not disclose\nthe dreadful doom hanging over her. She was determined that the poor\ngrandmother should not be made anxious and sorrowful as long as it could\nbe helped.\n\nShortly after this, the spring burst forth in all its power and beauty,\nand the blossoms shot up everywhere--in the woods, the fields, the\nmeadows, and the gardens. Nina welcomed them as her dearest friends.\nThey would protect her against the Forest Witch. So long as she had a\nsingle one of these, she would not have to go down into the dark earth\nto serve the hideous creature.\n\nNina had always loved flowers, but never had she thought so much about\nthem as now. Yet, alas! Spring soon turned into summer, and summer went\nfaster than ever before, it seemed to poor Nina. The tears streamed\ndown her cheeks, as she saw the blue cornflowers fall before the\nreaper's scythe, when the grain was cut in harvest-time.\n\nBut Nina could still hope, even then; for the roses continued to bloom\non Grandmother's old rose-bush outside the door of the hut. Nina kissed\nthem and begged them to last as long as ever they could! And so they\ndid--the dear, friendly roses!\n\nWhen the last little rose had at length withered, autumn had almost\npassed and the many-colored leaves were dropping from the trees by\nthousands. Yet Nina discovered to her joy and comfort that there were\nflowers still. Along the roadside stood the simple, hardy wild aster,\nwhich blossomed on and on, although the autumn winds and rains destroyed\neverything else.\n\nWinter began; but so mildly that it seemed as if it were still autumn.\nWhen the asters finally disappeared, other help came to Nina; for the\nhazel-bush was completely hoaxed by the mild weather and thought it was\nspring; so it began to unfold its yellow catkins, standing beautiful\nand bright, as one saw it between the bare trees over the hedges.\n\nSo, even when the winter was far advanced, Nina was still saved from\ngoing to the Witch; but this could not long continue. Cold weather must\nsoon come, because Grandmother had said that Christmas was near.\n\nAnd suddenly winter did come in earnest, with its icy frosts and\ndrifting snows. For five days it was impossible to get out of the hut,\nbecause the wind kept whirling the snow into high drifts all about it.\nBut when the sixth day came the wind abated and the snow lay peacefully\non the ground.\n\nNow Nina dared no longer to stay in the house, for surely all the\nflowers were dead, and buried under the cold snow, after this bitter\nstorm. She must go and keep her compact with the Witch. So gathering\ntogether all her courage, she stole out of the house without being seen\nby any one.\n\nOutside, she stood still for an instant, took a last look at the hut,\nwhich now seemed so cozy and dear, whispered \"Farewell,\" and started on\nher way to the forest.\n\nBut she had gathered too little courage, after all; for it melted away\nimmediately when she discovered the Witch a few steps from the door,\nstanding in the little roadside garden, waiting for her.\n\n\"You've been rather slow about keeping to your bargain!\" exclaimed the\nWitch angrily. \"I was just coming after you.\"\n\n\"Oh! do not make me go with you!\" cried Nina.\n\nIn her agony she fell down upon the snow at the Witch's great feet, and\nbesought her wildly: \"Let me be free! Oh, do let me be free!\"\n\n\"_Snikkesnak!_\" snapped the Witch. \"Up with you! No nonsense!\"\n\n\"Is there not a single flower to save me?\" wailed Nina. She half rose,\nand, fairly beside herself with fright and despair, began to scrape the\nsnow away from the garden-bed at the side of the path, trying to find a\nflower.\n\n\"Oh, yes, look if you like! _Snikkesnak! snikkesnak!_\" laughed the\nWitch, her face glowing with exultation at Nina's trouble.\n\nBut an instant after, her countenance became filled with fury, for where\nNina had cleared the snow away, there appeared a plant with fresh\ndark-green leaves and white flower buds!\n\nNina clasped her hands together in great joy and thankfulness; then,\nbreaking off a bud, she lifted it up high toward the Witch and rushed\naway into the hut. The Witch, in her disappointment and vexation, sprang\nabout so wildly in the snow that it rose in a cloud all about her, and\nNina never saw her again.\n\nSafe at home in the little hut, Nina now told all her adventure; and the\ngrandmother took the little girl's sweet, frightened face between her\ntwo old hands, and kissed her forehead many times.\n\nFaithfully every day Nina went to pay a loving visit to the little\n\"Christmas Rose\" in the garden (_helleborus niger_); for that was the\nflower which had saved her; and the whole winter long, it could be\nfound fresh and beautiful, here and there under the snow.\n\nThough no other blossoms dare come forth to face the snows and frosts of\ndeep winter, the Christmas Rose ventures bravely out into the bleak\nweather, and with modest and serene courage holds her own against its\npowers. The snow lying over it keeps it from freezing; and if one\nbrushes away this beautiful covering, the Christmas Rose appears with\nits lovely, white, gold-centered blossoms, laughing at the frost. It\nblooms steadily on until it can say \"Good-day\" to spring's first\nblossom--the little snowdrop; and so, through all the year, there are\nflowers blooming in our dear Northern land, Denmark.\n\nThus it was that Nina escaped the Witch, who, being a Forest Witch, did\nnot know of the Christmas Rose, because that is a garden flower.\n\n                                                       --_J. Krohn_.\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n                THE TESTING OF THE TWO KNIGHTS\n\n\nDown in the town all was laughter, dancing and jollity. Banners were\nflying from housetops and windows, flowers were wreathed about poles and\narches, and green branches decorated every gateway and door. Clearly, a\ngreat festival was in progress.\n\nHigh on a hill overlooking the town, towered the old red castle of a\nduke. In front of the castle, on a beautiful green mound, stood gilded\ncannon, which at intervals sent thunderous peals through the town and\nover the near-lying hills.\n\nInside the castle, speeches were being made and toasts given, and many\nwere the eager shouts of \"Hail to the Princess!\" and \"Long life to the\nPrincess!\" for this was the birthday of the Duke's only daughter,\nPrincess Inga, and the festival was in her honor. At the conclusion of\neach speech and chorus of joyous shouts up at the castle, the cannon\nsent forth their signaling volley; and at each volley the people in the\ntown took up the rejoicing and heartily echoed \"Hail! hail! Long life to\nthe Princess!\" for they had loved the beautiful daughter of their good\nDuke ever since that first day when she had appeared among them, a tiny\nsmiling child, in her little carriage drawn by a pair of white goats.\n\nAfter the feasting was over, the guests dispersed from the stately hall\nand strolled about the terraces and gardens to enjoy the summer night\nand its sweet refreshing air.\n\nDown one of the shadowy garden walks paced the Duke, and with him a man\nconspicuous among the richly adorned guests for the dull simplicity of\nhis attire. He was no other than the Wise One from Fir Forest who wore\nnow, as at all times, his plain dark robe of brown,--against which\nflowed in sharp contrast his long snow-white wavy beard.\n\n\"The day has passed right merrily,\" said the Duke, \"and there has been\nno lack of congratulations and speeches; and all the speeches were to no\nother end than to wish happiness and good fortune to my beloved\ndaughter. What showers of good wishes have been poured upon her to-day!\nIf she receives but a quarter of all these blessings, her life will\noverflow with happiness.\"\n\n\"I pray that it may,\" said the Wise One gravely. \"But the Princess, like\nall others, must win her own happiness.\"\n\n\"What say you?\" asked the Duke.\n\nThe Wise One answered slowly, \"Happiness comes from forgetting self and\nliving for the joy of others. In no other way can one be truly happy.\"\n\n\"Yet I am happy,\" said the Duke.\n\n\"You, dear Duke, yes!\" answered the Wise One. \"And well may you be\nhappy, for you never think of yourself. You take kindliest care of all\nin your dukedom, ever doing good among the poor and the sick, and giving\npleasure to all those about you, especially to the Princess. To gladden\nher is your greatest pleasure.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" assented the Duke, with evident gratification. He could\nnot but be pleased at the Wise One's praise, never lightly given.\n\n\"And now, my good friend,\" continued the Duke, \"since we speak of the\nPrincess, I would fain ask your good counsel concerning her. Suitors\nwill come to strive to win her hand. Indeed, two have already asked to\nappear before me, and I receive them in the morning. Many will seek her\nfor the dukedom's sake, since the one she weds will become duke after\nme; and among all the suitors how shall we know which is a true and\nworthy knight? She should have the best of all,--only the very best.\"\n\n\"The best, like the happiest, is the person who thinks last of himself\nand first of all others, he who is wholly free from selfishness and\nenvy. Only to such a one,\" said the Wise One earnestly, \"only to such a\none should we give our dear Princess.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" responded the Duke. \"That is right, and very well conceived\nand stated, too. But how am I to test the hearts of those who come?\nTheir hearts are not of glass, so that one may peep into them! How shall\nI discover, for instance, the true character of the rivals who seek\naudience to-morrow?\"\n\nThe Wise One pondered for some minutes and then inquired slowly, \"Who is\nthe most despised, the meanest in station, of all the castle servitors?\"\n\n\"Oh, that is easily said,\" responded the Duke, laughingly. \"It could be\nno other than that stupid, good-natured Klaus Klodrian. He is but the\nfourth groom's under stable-boy, and yet he will never rise higher,\npoor, dull-witted fellow!\"\n\n\"Good,\" said the Wise One. \"He will serve our present purpose well. Let\nthe rivals each take his turn dwelling one day as honored guest at the\ncastle, and one day in the poor hut of Klaus Klodrian, and perhaps this\nwill disclose the true knight to us. If not, there are other tests, but\nlet us try this first.\"\n\n\"Yes, let us try it,\" said the Duke. \"Glad am I to rely on your help,\nand most grateful for your counsel.\"\n\nAfter arranging the plan a little more in detail, the Wise One said\nfarewell and started on his homeward way. He was glad to leave behind\nthe festivities and excitement of the castle, and longed to reach his\npeaceful little log hut in the midst of the great Fir Forest. Seldom\nwere other sounds heard there than the whispering of the wind in the\ntree-tops, the glad twitter of birds and the whirring of their wings.\n\nJust as he was turning from the roadside into the forest, two knights\ncame galloping past, and he knew that they must be the expected suitors\nfor Princess Inga's hand. Both were young and stately and sat proudly\nupon their beautiful horses. The one knight was clad in green velvet,\nwith graceful hat and waving plume of the same color, and the trappings\nof his horse shone with gold. The other knight was richly dressed also,\nbut in blue velvet and with a snowy plume in his blue hat, and silver\non the trappings of his horse.\n\nAs they rode gaily along, looking so happy and handsome, and exchanging\nfriendly words and glances, it would be hard indeed to wish success to\none at the expense of the other.\n\nThe Wise One went hastily into the forest, directing his steps to its\ndensest part, where was sequestered his lonely home. Soon after, a great\nblackbird stole forth from the woods, turned its yellow beak toward the\nroad which the two knights had taken and flew after them. The knights\nquickly reached the town and rode to \"The Golden Fish,\" an inn not far\nbelow the castle.\n\nBefore they went to their sleeping-rooms, the Blue Knight opened one of\nthe windows and leaned far out, looking up into the high, dark-blue\nheavens, where the stars gleamed in myriads.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" asked the Green Knight.\n\n\"Looking at the stars,\" answered the other.\n\n\"But why, pray?\" asked the Green Knight.\n\n\"Oh, it is but a fancy of mine,\" answered the Blue Knight. \"I like to\nlook up there every evening. The stars shine down upon us with such\nbenign watchfulness, that I would fain render some return; and to enjoy\ntheir beauty seems all I can do.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe next morning the two knights started in good-fellowship riding at\nleisurely pace, side by side, through the streets and up the castle\nhill. Many eyes peeped out at them through windows and door cracks, and\nthe host of \"The Golden Fish\" rubbed his fat hands together with\npleasure. He saw that he should have a profitable day in his tavern, for\nthe town folk would soon come flocking in and out, to hear what they\ncould of the suitors.\n\nIn the great gilded hall of the castle, the Duke sat in state to give\naudience to the knights. Princess Inga stood by his side. White-robed\nand with a cluster of dewy roses in her hand, she looked so fair, so\ngracious and lovely, that both the cavaliers were enraptured.\n\nAfter the salutations were over, the Duke, in a straightforward manner,\ngave them his friendly permission to make further acquaintance with the\nPrincess, provided they would yield to his wishes in one respect.\n\nTo prevent either suitor from interfering with or standing in the way of\nthe other, the Duke would have each knight in turn spend one day with\nthe Princess and one day with Klaus Klodrian, a humble servitor of the\ncastle, who dwelt in a hut on the borders of the estate.\n\nIf they had any disinclination to do this, the matter was at an end; for\nthis was the plan he had fixed upon, and it was unalterable.\n\n\"Have the goodness, my honored guests,\" then continued the Duke, \"to\nagree between yourselves which of you shall remain here to-day, and\nwhich shall now go to Klaus Klodrian.\"\n\nSince the Green Knight sat in silence with the evident intention of\nawaiting what the other might say, the Blue Knight politely offered to\ngive his fellow-suitor the first day with the Princess. The offer was\naccepted with much pleasure, and while the Green Knight bowed before the\nPrincess and began to talk with her, the Blue Knight was conducted out\nof the audience hall, down a broad staircase, across a great courtyard,\nand thence on and on, through garden and park, through barnyards and\nstables, into the lane at the end of which stood the hut of the\nstable-boy, Klaus Klodrian.\n\nPoor Klaus sat inside, being just about to begin his frugal noonday\nmeal. He jumped up in great confusion at the sudden entrance of a grand\ngentleman.\n\nHolding a long loaf of black bread in his hands, he stood startled and\nbewildered, his round eyes staring, his great mouth wide open; but when\nthe Blue Knight gave him a gentle greeting, courteously asked permission\nto spend the day with him, and began to talk to him in a friendly\nmanner, Klaus gradually recovered from his confusion and became his\nquiet, simple self again. He clattered clumsily about on his heavy\nwooden shoes, with long straws from the stable dangling from his\nclothes and littering the floor. Always good-natured and unused to any\nattention save ridicule, he soon glowed with happiness because of the\nBlue Knight's kind treatment.\n\n\"I will show you something,\" said Klaus with joy and pride, though\nshyly; and he brought forth his only treasure--two white doves in a\ncage,--and began to talk eagerly about them. It seemed as if he could\nreiterate the praises of these doves endlessly. To him there was nothing\nequal to them in the whole world.\n\nThat day would have been long and tedious, indeed, to the knight, if he\nhad not found something with which to occupy himself. With his ready\nsympathy toward all, he soon discovered that Klaus Klodrian was not\naltogether a hopeless dullard. If only one would tell him a thing twelve\nor fourteen times, he could then understand most of it; but no one\nheretofore had found this out, because no one had taken pains enough, or\nbeen patient enough with him.\n\nThe Blue Knight, feeling sorry for the poor witless fellow, labored\nearnestly with him, giving him long explanations, telling him the same\nthings again and again, and showing him better ways of doing his work\nwith the horses and about the stalls.\n\nAnd Klaus Klodrian, as the day wore on, really began to show a little\ncomprehension. He laughed so heartily over it all, that it seemed as if\nhis wide mouth really did stretch from ear to ear.\n\nAs for the Blue Knight, he became so absorbed in trying to teach Klaus,\nthat the long summer day was neither tiresome nor unhappy. Twice during\nthe day had he seen the Princess and the Green Knight walking together\nin the castle garden. They talked and laughed, and seemed, he thought,\nto have become exceedingly good friends. So also thought the Duke, and\nhe remarked upon it to the Wise One who, in his evening walk, came past\nthe castle.\n\n\"Ah, but this Green Knight is a magnificent fellow,\" said the Duke. \"And\nhe is very talented. He will gain the Princess. They are already\nexcellent friends, and I am greatly prejudiced in his favor. He is\nreally charming! You should have heard the good stories he told to-day\nwhen we were dining. Yes, he will certainly gain the Princess.\"\n\n[Illustration: KLAUS BROUGHT FORTH HIS ONLY TREASURE.--_Page 195_.]\n\n\"To-day he is sailing with the wind,\" said the Wise One. \"Let us see him\nto-morrow when the wind is against him.\"\n\nThe sun had gone down and darkness had spread itself all around, but the\ncastle was brilliantly illuminated, and from its windows the light\nstreamed out, while soft strains of music floated through the halls and\ninto the summer air. There was a ball at the castle.\n\nThoughts of the lovely Princess had been present with the Blue Knight\nall the day long, no matter how intently he was laboring with Klaus; so\nwhen evening came he sought to get just a glimpse of her through the\ncastle window.\n\nYes--there she was. The Green Knight held her hand and danced with her.\nShe danced more gaily than any other in the merry company, and oh! how\nproud and happy she looked! And the Duke nodded and smiled at the\nhandsome pair as they glided past him.\n\nThe Blue Knight had seen enough. He turned away and walked sadly back to\nthe stable-boy's hut.\n\nKlaus Klodrian had also been out,--to hear the dance music. He could\nremember a little of one of the airs, and now sat down upon the edge of\nhis straw bed, and tried to play it by striking one wooden shoe against\nthe other.\n\n\"Good-night and sleep well,\" said Klaus, as the knight entered. \"And\nthanks for the day.\"\n\n\"Good-night, and best thanks to yourself, my good Klaus Klodrian,\" was\nthe answer. \"If I gain nothing more by my journey hither, I have learned\nfrom you how little a man need have in order to be content, and that is\ngood. When men learn to be content with little, there will be less\ntrouble in the world.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Klaus Klodrian. \"If one owns a pair of fine doves, one\ncan hold out against anything.\" And therewith he settled himself in the\nbed and slept. The Blue Knight, however, went out under the summer sky\nand gazed long at the stars. He was convinced that he had lost the\nPrincess, and that the Green Knight had won her; but as he stood there,\nlooking at the stars, a sense of peace stole over him, and in his heart\nwere none but good wishes for the Princess and the Green Knight. The\nstars seemed to tell him that this was right, for never before had they\nsparkled down upon him with such friendly rays.\n\nThe next morning he awoke refreshed, and led out his horse, thinking it\nwas useless to press his suit after having seen the success which his\nrival had met with the previous day. But before he had mounted, a\ncourteous message came from the Duke, requesting that he should now come\nto the castle in his turn, according to their agreement.\n\nLikewise according to agreement, came the Green Knight down to Klaus\nKlodrian; but though he came, he felt that he was being subjected to\ngreat indignity, and showed his ill-humor plainly.\n\nSimple Klaus began at once to try to entertain him by showing his\nprecious doves, but the Green Knight sullenly told him to hold his\ntongue; and when, a little after, poor Klaus, stupid and forgetful,\nbegan again his rambling talk in praise of the doves, the Green Knight\nimpatiently kicked over their cage, and the terrified doves flew away.\n\nThey took their flight through the Fir Forest, and when the Wise One saw\nthem, speeding with fear-quickened wings over the tree-tops, he said,\n\"Aha! The Green Knight likes not to sail against the wind!\"\n\nThen he gave a call, and out flocked the blackbirds from the trees near\nthe Wise One's hut. These gloomy-looking, swift-flying birds were his\nmessengers. Daily they took their flight out into the world, far and\nnear, and when they came back to the forest, they told their master all\nthey had seen and heard. Thus he received much strange and minute\ninformation, but so secretly, that no one guessed how he gained his\nknowledge.\n\nThis morning he gave some of the birds special directions, and the\nresult was that all day long, blackbirds hovered in unusual swarms near\nthe hut of Klaus Klodrian, and over the castle gardens. They had hovered\nthere, keeping watch, the day before also, but no one had remarked it.\nWho notices a few blackbirds more or less?\n\nThat was a hard day for Klaus Klodrian. He missed his kind instructor of\nthe previous day sadly, and had no gentle doves to cheer his heavy\nspirit. The harsh treatment of the Green Knight made him so excited and\nunhappy, that though he strove hard to hold fast to all that the Blue\nKnight had taught him, he felt only confusion of mind, and in his\nbewilderment made more stupid blunders than ever before. But worst of\nall, it was impossible for the poor witless fellow to understand the\ngathering wrath of the Green Knight, and so, now and again throughout\nthe day, he made attempts at friendly conversation. At last it ended in\nhis receiving a thrashing from the ill-tempered cavalier, so that when\nevening closed in, poor Klaus was fain to stretch his bruised body on\nthe soft cool meadow grass, not daring to seek his straw bed.\n\nWho can tell how miserably the hours dragged by for the Green Knight,\nwith his jealous, uncontrolled temper? He could not endure to think of\nthe Blue Knight up at the castle, walking in the garden with the\nPrincess. And when he went near enough to see her pluck roses for her\ncompanion, he thought that the roses the Blue Knight received were much\nricher and redder than those which she had given him the day before from\nthe same bush!\n\nVenting his anger upon poor Klaus had not cooled it in the least. Rage\nboiled within him hotter than ever, after he had given the thrashing.\nAnd when the day was at last ended and the darkness fell, his bitter\nenvious thoughts drove him to the castle. Here were music and dancing\nand feasting again, this time in honor of the Blue Knight.\n\nThe Green Knight stole cautiously up to the balcony, hid himself in the\nshadow of its twining vines, and looked at the gay scene within the\nhall. Ah! There were the Princess and the Blue Knight. His heart burned\nwith envy; he forgot that the Blue Knight was having no more opportunity\nand enjoyment than he himself had had. \"Never shall that fellow become\nDuke, never!\" he muttered.\n\nFull of evil thoughts, the Green Knight drew his sword; but he did not\nnotice that as he did so, a bird rustled out from the vines above, and\nflew swiftly away.\n\nThe music ceased at last with prolonged, rapturous trill. The Princess,\nhowever, was enjoying the ball so much that she asked the Duke if she\nmight not have just one single dance more. And well it was that her\nrequest was granted.\n\nAfter this very last dance was finished, the Blue Knight turned toward\nthe balcony door, drawn by a great desire to greet the stars, so happy\nand thankful did he feel.\n\nJust at this moment the Wise One strode into the hall. The Duke and all\nthe guests were greatly astonished, for never before had the revered\ncounselor visited the castle at such a late hour.\n\nThe Wise One placed himself before the Blue Knight, gave a sign to the\nliveried torch-bearers standing near, then threw wide open the large\ndoors leading to the balcony. There stood the Green Knight, with his\nnaked sword in his hand. His guilty gaze sought the ground--and his\nlimbs refused to flee.\n\n\"What means this?\" asked the Duke.\n\n\"There stand Envy and Jealousy disclosed,\" answered the Wise One. Then\nhe turned and with gentle step approached the Princess. In her terror\nshe had grasped the Blue Knight's arm and was still clinging to him,\nwhile tears shone in her tender eyes.\n\nThe Wise One looked toward the Duke an instant and then said:\n\n\"There stands the true knight! and I believe that the heart of the\nPrincess has chosen him.\"\n\n\"And to him shall she be given,\" said the Duke. \"The day with Klaus\nKlodrian has indeed brought to light the true character of the suitors.\nYour wise counsel has served us well, good friend. Will you not honor us\nnow by coming to the banqueting hall and being the first to offer\ncongratulations and good wishes to the Princess and to her proven\nknight?\"\n\nThen the music began again,--the musicians playing gladdest melodies\nwith all their hearts.\n\nThe Green Knight plunged into the darkness and ran to his horse. Hastily\nmounting, he sped his steed mercilessly forward, with whip and spur,\ninto the murky night.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSome days later the Blue Knight rode forth from the castle with face as\nradiant as the morning. He was to ride to his home, bearing thither the\nnews of his good fortune, but he was soon to wend his way back. The\nPrincess watched as long as her eyes could see him, while he bowed and\nwaved fond adieus. Behind the Blue Knight rode, rather awkwardly, his\nnew squire,--none other than Klaus Klodrian! He was proudly conscious of\nhis fine long riding-boots and other new attire, and happier than ever\nbefore; for not only was he now to serve the knight whose kindness had\nwon his heart, but his precious doves had been restored to him. The Wise\nOne had recovered them for him through the aid of the watchful\nblackbirds.\n\n                                                     --_J. Krohn_.\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"Top-of-the-World Stories for Boys and Girls: Translated from the Scandinavian Languages","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":34233}