{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_46047/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_46047","id":"gutenberg_46047","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46047","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Folklore -- Austria -- Tyrol","Legends -- Austria -- Tyrol"],"text":"TALES AND LEGENDS\n\n  OF THE\n\n  TYROL.\n\n  COLLECTED AND ARRANGED\n\n  BY\n\n  MADAME LA COMTESSE A. VON G\u00dcNTHER.\n\n  LONDON:\n\n  CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY.\n\n  1874.\n\n\n\n\n  PRINTED BY TAYLOR AND CO.,\n\n  LITTLE QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN\u2019S INN FIELDS.\n\n\n\n\nDEDICATION.\n\n\nTo those who dare the unfrequented mountain paths and passes of the\nTyrol, in search of all that is wonderful and grand, this work is\nrespectfully dedicated by\n\n  THE AUTHORESS.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe Tyrol, the land of glory and tradition, the wonder-garden of the\nworld, so often visited but so little known, forms the theme of the\nfollowing volume; and in dedicating it to the public the authoress\nfeels certain of a fair share of their approval, perhaps, even, of\ntheir thanks; for many are the dangers which have been incurred in its\nproduction, and many are the days of weary walks and severe trials that\nit has cost.\n\nThere are no railroads in the mountains, and even cart-tracks are \u201cfew\nand far between,\u201d and those who wish to see the almost hidden beauty,\nmust, in passing through this enchanted land, undergo all the authoress\nhas undergone, and share with her the pleasure as well as the pain.\n\nAll that is grand and beautiful, all that is gorgeous and sublime, all\nthat is shocking and terrible, is to be met with at every step in the\nTyrol; and the following legends are but a poor illustration of the old\nproverb, \u201cThere are finer fish in the sea than ever came out of it.\u201d\n\nThe strange dialect of the inhabitants of this curious country,\nrenders it almost impossible for any foreigner unacquainted with\ntheir language to understand what they would so willingly recount;\nand, in consequence, thousands and thousands of sight-seers yearly\npass through, perfectly at a loss how to gratify their curiosity,\nexcept in the natural grandeur and beauty of the mountain world. The\nauthoress has often noticed large parties of English and foreign\nvisitors wandering aimlessly through a valley, round a ruin, or on the\nborders of a lake, whose history they have vainly tried to discover;\nfor however willing the poor honest peasants are to explain all their\nvisitors would wish to know, yet their kindly efforts are of course\nunavailing, and these foreigners go away back to their own countries,\nhaving passed over, and perhaps seen _all_, without knowing anything.\n\nThis little work, then, written first for the pleasure of its\nauthoress, she now places in the hands of the public, trusting that\nit may not only be a useful guide, but a pleasant companion in the\nmountains in which it took its origin.\n\n  How lovely the land of those beauties unseen,\n    Which touch on the borders of Nature\u2019s fair soul!\n  How bright are those landscapes, so soft and serene,\n    Which kiss the sweet homesteads of my own dear Tyrol!\n\n  MARY COUNTESS A. VON G\u00dcNTHER.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\n                                                     PAGE\n  The Giant Jordan                                      1\n\n  The Fisherman of the Graun-See                        9\n\n  The Giants Heimo and Th\u00fcrse                          11\n\n  The Dragon of Zirl                                   15\n\n  The Wandering Stone                                  17\n\n  A Tyrolian Forester\u2019s Legend                         19\n\n  The Perjurer                                         26\n\n  The Burning Hand                                     27\n\n  The Three Fairies of the Ungarkopf                   31\n\n  The Green Huntsman                                   35\n\n  The Tyrolian Giants of Albach                        37\n\n  The Witch\u2019s Vengeance                                44\n\n  The Pious Herdsman                                   46\n\n  The Adasbub                                          49\n\n  The White Snake                                      52\n\n  The Schachtgeist                                     54\n\n  The Three Brothers                                   58\n\n  The Fiery Body                                       60\n\n  The Venediger-Manndl upon the Sonnenwendjoch         62\n\n  Hahnenkikerle                                        65\n\n  The Sorcerer of Sistrans                             67\n\n  The Giant Serles                                     70\n\n  Legends of the Orco                                  73\n\n  Biener\u2019s Wife                                        80\n\n  The Lengmoos Witches                                 84\n\n  Binder-Hansl                                         87\n\n  The Gold-Worm of the Alpbach Valley                  89\n\n  The Glunkezer Giant                                  90\n\n  The Weaver of Vomperberg                             93\n\n  The Fiery Sennin                                     95\n\n  The Spirit of the Zirl Usurer                        97\n\n  The Alpine Horse-Phantom                             99\n\n  The Witches of G\u2019Stoag                              101\n\n  The Hexeler                                         104\n\n  The Cat-Hags of Gries                               106\n\n  The Locksmith of the Fliegeralm                     109\n\n  The Salve-Toad                                      111\n\n  The Unholdenhof                                     113\n\n  The Fiery Boar of Kohlerstadl                       117\n\n  The Butcher of Imst                                 119\n\n  Matz-Lauter, the Sorcerer of Brixen                 121\n\n  The Mountain Ghost of the Vivanna                   124\n\n  The Oberleitner of Terenten                         126\n\n  The Tailor of the Zirockalm                         128\n\n  The Three Sisters of Frastanz                       131\n\n  The Rose Garden of King Laurin                      133\n\n  The Petrified Lovers of Kramsach                    136\n\n  The Gold-Seeker of the Tendres Farm                 137\n\n  The Fairy of the Sonnenwendjoch                     140\n\n  The Fireman Pigerp\u00fctz                               144\n\n  The Piller-See                                      146\n\n  The Burning Pines                                   148\n\n  The Jaufen-Fairy                                    149\n\n  The Wetter-See                                      152\n\n  The Courageous Servant-Girl of the Zotta Farm       154\n\n  The Klausenmann on the Kummer-See                   158\n\n  The Village on the Boden-Alp                        160\n\n  The Gold-Measurers of Lofer                         163\n\n  The Antholzer-See                                   165\n\n  The Mailed Ghost of Brixen Castle                   166\n\n  The Treasure of the Sigmundsburg                    168\n\n  The Fratricide upon the Hochalp                     169\n\n  The Two Haystacks                                   172\n\n  The Sunken Forests                                  174\n\n  Tannen-Eh\u2019                                          176\n\n  The Devil\u2019s Bridge                                  179\n\n  Lago Santo                                          181\n\n  The Alber                                           184\n\n  The Old Town of Flies                               186\n\n  The Senderser Putz                                  188\n\n  The Dace Fish of the Gerlos-See                     191\n\n  The Vedretta Marmolata                              192\n\n  The Teufelsplatte near Galth\u00fcr                      194\n\n  Frau H\u00fctt                                           197\n\n  The Treasure of Maultasch                           199\n\n  The Nine-pin Game of Margaretha Maultasch           201\n\n  The Devil\u2019s Hole on the Kuntersweg                  203\n\n  The Sunken Castle in the Biburg-See                 206\n\n  The Witches\u2019 Walk on the Kreuzjoch                  208\n\n  The Treasures                                       210\n\n  Wolkenstein                                         213\n\n  The Ghosts of the Castle of V\u00f6llenberg              215\n\n  The Fr\u00e4ulein von Maretsch                           217\n\n\n\n\nTALES AND LEGENDS\n\nOF\n\nTHE TYROL.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GIANT JORDAN._\n\n\nTo the east of the Ungarkopf, and high above the cavern called\nEggerskeller, there stands, close to a dizzy chasm in the rocks, the\nKohlh\u00fctte (coal hut), which is surrounded by steep grey mountain walls.\nNot long since there resided in this hut a wild man, with his wife\nFangga. Jordan, for this was the name of the giant, employed himself\nin stealing children and beasts which he devoured, and he occupied his\ntime also in hunting the poor fairies, whom he caught and killed, or\nshut up in underground prisons.\n\nOne day he brought home a fairy, most probably one of those which\nresided in the Eggerskeller, and who was already more dead than alive.\nHe threw her down at the feet of his wife, and was on the point of\nkilling her, but Fangga said, \u201cLet the thing live; it will be of use to\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo,\u201d growled the monster; \u201cwhat can you do with her?\u201d\n\n\u201cI should like to have her in the hut to make her work,\u201d answered his\ngigantic wife.\n\n\u201cTake then the thing,\u201d shouted the giant; \u201cthe white cat to the black\none!\u201d for the giant couple had in their hut a huge black cat which the\ngiant had made a present to his wife in a similar manner after having\ncaught it in the mountains.\n\nThe poor fairy now bore the yoke of servitude, under the giant couple,\nwho called her Hitte Hatte. She was obliged to wear servant\u2019s clothes\nand do servant\u2019s drudgery, which she did so cleverly and quickly that\nFangga was contented with her, and treated her as kindly as it was\nin her brutal nature to do. Hitte Hatte was kind to the cat, fed her\nregularly, let her sleep in her own bed, and got altogether fond of\nher. Although she had now taken entirely the nature of a human being,\nshe constantly longed to be free of the giants, and one day she took\nthe occasion while Jordan was out and Fangga sleeping, to slip down\ninto the valley and to seek her fortune amongst mankind. The cat, as\nthough she knew the intention of her friend, followed her every step of\nthe way, and so it happened that one evening a pretty girl, followed by\na huge black cat, entered the farm of Seehaus, which is close to the\nvillage of Strad, in the Gurgl valley, and offered her services. The\nfarm people, whose name was Krapf, a very good and worthy couple, were\nnot very well off just then, as they had suffered some heavy losses,\nand therefore at that time did not keep many servants. So they engaged\nthe pretty girl for very small wages, without even asking her who\nshe was or from whence she came. She did her work joyfully and well,\nand with her blessings entered Seehaus; it was a pleasure to see how\nbeautifully Hitte Hatte, for this name she had kept up, managed and\narranged everything. The cleverest old peasant woman would never have\nbeen able to do so well as she did. She went about her work quietly,\nspoke little, and never anything without purpose; was always modest\nand reserved, and the people of the farm left her to go on in her\nquiet way just as she liked. Her greatest pet was and remained the cat,\nwhich was also very useful in keeping the house and buildings clear of\nrats and mice. Hitte Hatte only knew one fear, and that was the giant,\nwho on account of her flight had made a most fearful noise, and beaten\nhis wife without mercy; but in the valley he could not touch her, for\nthe village boundaries were every year blessed by the priest, and there\nwere all round about little crosses and chapels, of which the gigantic\nrace of pagans had the greatest terror.\n\nWhile Hitte Hatte was still in Seehaus Farm, two boys of Strad had\nclimbed up the Ungarkopf to gather strawberries, and approached by\naccident the giant\u2019s abode. As the evening shadows began to fall the\nboys got tired and hungry, and were about to return home, when they saw\nblue smoke arising quite close to them, which ascended out of Jordan\u2019s\nKohlh\u00fctte, and one of the boys shouted to the other, \u201cLook at the\nsmoke! there, I am sure they are making cakes; let us go and see if we\ncan\u2019t get some.\u201d\n\nThey soon arrived at the door of the hut, which was carefully closed,\nso one of them scrambled up on the roof, removed one of the wooden\ntiles and peeped down below. Fangga, who was busy at her kitchen, heard\nhim in a moment, and called out, \u201cWho is up there on my roof?\u201d\n\nThe boy answered, \u201cIt is I with my good companion. We are hungry, and\npray you kindly to give us something to eat.\u201d\n\nFangga opened the door and called out, \u201cCome in, my boys, and you shall\nhave something, but be quick and creep into this hole (she pointed out\nthe stove), and keep very quiet there, for the \u2018wild man\u2019 is coming\nvery soon, and if he catches sight of you he will eat you bones and\nall.\u201d\n\nOn hearing this the boys were terrified out of their wits, and crept\ninto the stove, and directly afterwards the giant entered the hut, and\nsniffing round with hideous rolling eyes, he shouted to his wife, \u201cI\nsmell, I smell human meat!\u201d\n\nBut Fangga, who had not been educated in an Innsbruck school, answered\nhim very sharply, \u201cYou smell, you smell the devil!\u201d\n\nThen the giant gave such a tremendous snort that the whole hut trembled\nas though it had been shaken by the wind, and the boys terrified\nlest the stove should fall and kill them, jumped out of it. As Jordan\ncaught sight of them his rage grew still more horrible; he overloaded\nFangga with imprecations and abuse, shut the boys up in a cupboard and\ntook the keys with him while he ran off to catch a lost goat of whose\nbell he just caught the sound. The poor boys now began to scream and\nimplore, and at last Fangga, cruel and hard as she was, was touched\nwith pity, and consented to release them. But as she had not the key of\nthe cupboard, she kicked at the door till it flew open, let the boys\nout, and told them the best means of making their escape, and away they\nwent as fast as ever their legs would carry them.\n\nThey had not gone long when the wild man returned home, but without\nhis goat, which had also escaped him, so he vowed now to kill the\nboys; but as the cupboard was empty and he could nowhere find them, he\nthundered new imprecations at Fangga, who however took no notice of\nthem. The savage monster then seized his boarskin mantle, and set off\nin pursuit of them. He arrived at last on the edge of a wild roaring\nmountain-torrent, on the other side of which he caught sight of them,\nand he called out in the sweetest and softest voice he could command,\n\u201cTell me, dear boys, how you got over the river!\u201d\n\n\u201cHo! wild man,\u201d shouted the boys, \u201cgo up the river, and further on you\nwill find the plank over which we crossed.\u201d\n\nJordan now tore along the banks of the river for miles and miles,\nabout as far as from Nassereit to Siegmundsberg, where he found a weak\nbending board upon which he stepped, and plump down went the monster\ninto the wild foaming water, in which he had to struggle for a long\ntime ere he succeeded in reaching the opposite bank. Meanwhile the boys\nhad got far in advance; but the giant ran as fast as he could, and soon\ncaught sight of them again on the other side of a large lake which he\ndid not know how to get over, as he had no idea of swimming, and wade\nthrough he dared not, as he did not know how deep it might be, and\nthere was no boat either large enough to carry him over. Therefore he\nshouted again to the boys in a flattering tone, \u201cDear boys, tell me\nhow you got over the lake!\u201d\n\nThe boys answered, \u201cWe have tied large stones round our necks, upon\nwhich we have swum across.\u201d\n\nSo he took a heavy rock and tied it firmly round his neck, jumped into\nthe water, and was immediately drowned. So the boys escaped, and people\nsay Fangga did not die of grief over the loss of her savage husband.\n\nA few days afterwards Lorenz Mayrhofer, a friend of the farmer of\nSeehaus, returning from the market of Imst where he had sold a team of\noxen, and carrying the yokes on his shoulders, stopped at Krapf\u2019s house\non his way home, and over a glass of Tyrolian wine with which Hitte\nHatte had herself served him, he said to his friend, \u201cOne sees most\nwonderful things in these times. After leaving the D\u00f6llinger Hof on my\nway here, a voice called out to me from the heights of the mountain,\n\u2018Carrier of the yokes, tell Hitte Hatte that she can now go home, for\nJordan is dead.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe farmer and his wife looked at one another and then at Hitte Hatte,\nwho, hearing the news, set down the ladle which she was holding, and\nsaid, \u201cIf Jordan is dead, then I am happy again. Take great care of\nthe hairy house-worm. I thank you much for your kindness to me, and\nwish you all luck with your farm. If you had asked me more I should\nhave told you more,\u201d and in saying so she passed out of the door, and\nhas never again been seen.\n\nThe farmer, his wife, and friend were struck dumb with astonishment,\nand could not divine the girl\u2019s meaning. Under the \u201chairy house-worm,\u201d\nshe had meant the cat. \u201cWhat a pity it is,\u201d still now say the peasants\nof Strad, \u201cthat the Seehaus farmer never asked more of the fairy, for\nif he had done so we should know more.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE FISHERMAN OF THE GRAUN-SEE._\n\n\nIn following the valley of Etsch, and after leaving the village of\nHaid, the traveller arrives first at the lake called Haider-See, and\nthen in about an hour\u2019s walking on the borders of the Graun-See,\nabove which on the side of the mountain, lies, in a most picturesque\nsituation, the little hamlet of Graun. There every garrulous old woman\nor little village child can tell him how often when evening sets in the\nfairies have been seen floating like flickering candles round the lofty\npeak above, or heard singing sweetly on calm moonlight nights before\nthe entrance to their caves. This spot on the mountain bears to the\npresent day the name of Zur Salig (to the holy ones).\n\nOn a beautiful autumn evening some forty years ago, a fisherman in\nhis little barque was setting his nets in the See. The night was mild\nand beautiful, and the air so clear and pure that he could distinctly\nhear the sheep-bells on the surrounding mountains, and the Angelus as\nit rang from the hamlets of Reschen, Graun, Haid, even as far as the\ndistant village of Burgeis; and the sound of the bells of the monastery\nof Sancta Maria, which lies above it, came wafting solemnly and softly\nover the water. The moon rose slowly in silent majesty above the\nsurrounding mountains, lighting up every distant peak, and turning the\nlake into a bed of liquid silver, and as the distant song of the Holy\nFr\u00e4ulein struck the ear of the poor fisherman, he abandoned his nets\nand listened entranced.\n\nThe moonlight faded slowly away, and the darkness of night set in, yet\nstill he remained motionless in his boat, dreaming of the angel\u2019s song\nhe had heard from Heaven. Morning broke, and still he sat there with\nhis hand on the rudder, and his eyes riveted on the abode of the Holy\nOnes. His comrades came and called him, but he did not answer; they\nwent to him and found him dead. He lies buried in the little churchyard\nof Graun, and every villager can point out his grave.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GIANTS HEIMO AND TH\u00dcRSE._\n\n\nOut of the Neust\u00e4dter-Thor of Innsbruck leads the Brenner-Strasse,\nclose by the beautiful and rich Abbey of the Premontaries Wilten,\ncalled also Wiltau. On each side of the principal fa\u00e7ade of the\nmagnificent church of this ancient cloister are still to be seen the\nenormous stone statues of two giants who bear the names of Heimo and\nTh\u00fcrse. Both giants belong to that age in which their huge race first\nbegan to conform their rough nature to the ideas of civilization, when\nChristianity entered into the then impenetrable valleys of the Tyrol.\n\nOne of these enormous mountain giants of the country was called Heime\nor Heimo, who was so tall that he was obliged to raise the roof of his\nhouse so that he could stand upright in it, and of the most cruel and\nsavage nature. The inhabitants of the surrounding country dreaded him\nbeyond measure, and begged him to spare their farms and homesteads,\noffering to cede to him as much of their ground as he liked to decide\nupon, and then, should he ask it all, they would retreat and cultivate\nother parts of the country. In answer to this proposition, Heimo\nyelled, while pointing out an enormous rock, \u201cAs far as I run with that\nstone upon my shoulders so far is the ground my own.\u201d And saying so, he\nseized the rock, walked up the little river Sill, turned on the left to\nthe Patscherkofl, went down through Igels and round Wilten, and after\nhaving arrived again at the point from which he had started, he threw\nthe stone with enormous force westward. Then he began to build himself\nat the outlet of the Sill valley, opposite the river Inn, an enormous\nstronghold, for which he carried up huge rocks from the mountain clefts.\n\nAt that time there lived in the same valley another giant who was still\ntaller and stronger than Heimo, and he had his abode high over Zirl,\nbehind the jagged, bare, and steep peak of Solstein, upon the plateau\nof Seefeld, which he was the first to cultivate, and where now stands\nthe hamlet of Tyrschenbach. Th\u00fcrse, this was the name of this giant,\nhated Heimo, and took pleasure in always secretly destroying his newly\ncommenced building; and when Heimo discovered who caused him all this\ndamage, his gigantic fury awaked in him, and he went to attack Th\u00fcrse,\nclad in light armour, and carrying an enormous sword. Th\u00fcrse hearing\nthe approach of Heimo, seized a ponderous beam, and then commenced such\na terrible fight that the earth trembled, and rocks as huge as a tower\ndetached themselves from the Solstein, and rolled down into the valley\nbelow. Blows fell as thick as hail, and at last the better armed Heimo\nwas victor, for the savage Th\u00fcrse succumbed to his enemy.\n\nJust at that period (it was about the middle of the ninth century) a\nmonk was preaching Christianity in the valleys of the Sill, whom Heimo\nalso went to hear, and he felt sorry and repented having slain Th\u00fcrse.\nHe became a Christian, and was baptized by the Bishop of Chur. Then\nafter having built the existing bridge over the Inn, from which the\ncity of Innsbruck has taken its name, he renounced worldly life, and\ninstead of finishing his stronghold, he built a monastery which is the\nstill standing Wiltau or Wildenau, commonly called Wilten.\n\nThis was a terrible disappointment to the devil, who sent a huge\ndragon, of which there were already at that time a great many in the\nTyrol, to stop the building of the monastery; but Heimo attacked the\ndragon, killed him and cut out his tongue. With this huge tongue in\nhis hand he is represented in his statue; and the tongue, which is a\nyard and a half long, has been preserved in the cloister up to the\npresent day. Heimo became a monk at Wilten, lived a pious life, and on\nhis death was buried in the grounds of the monastery. The stone coffin\nin which his gigantic bones repose is still to be seen there, and it\nmeasures twenty-eight feet three inches. Upon the coffin used to be his\nstatue carved in wood, which has since decayed, but there is still\nhanging above it an ancient granite slab on which is recounted his\nhistory.\n\n\n\n\n_THE DRAGON OF ZIRL._\n\n\nClose to the bridge of Zirl, on the route to Inzing, in the Tyrol, lies\nthe famous Dragon Meadow. The men of Inzing and Zirl remember still\nvery well that when they were boys, an enormous thick long worm was\nwashed by the swollen river Wildbach out of a cavern which stood on its\nbanks, and which was called Hundstall. In this cavern the monster had\nresided for centuries, and had done endless damage in the surrounding\ncountry to both man and beast; he was generally called the dragon,\nand he killed and devoured all living creatures that ventured in his\nneighbourhood.\n\nThrough the cavern in the summer time flows a little stream which in\nthe winter is almost quite dry, and so it was too at that time; but\nstill it was strong enough to sweep the monster out, for when in the\nspring the warm weather suddenly arrived, the little stream became,\nfrom the melting snow, a roaring torrent, which undermined the rocky\ncavern of the dragon in the Hundstall, and swept out huge pieces of\nrock together with the monster himself, inundated the meadow, and left\neverything together on the spot which has been called ever since the\nDragon Meadow. Even now the breach made in the mountain by the torrent\nis to be seen.\n\nThe brute was a gigantic snake with the head of a dragon, two large\nears, and hideous fierce fiery eyes. He was half dead when washed out\nof his hole, but in spite of that he was seen writhing his huge body\nabout among the rocks. Nobody dare approach him, so they shot him from\na distance with cannons. \u201cHe was a lindworm,\u201d said the old mountaineer\nMader of Zirl, who has hunted there for more than sixty years, and\nwho has faithfully preserved this history. And as something to be\nespecially remembered, he added, \u201cthe half-dead lindworm had gasped so\nfearfully that it had been terrifying to see and listen to him, even\nfrom a distance.\u201d \u201cOne could not tell either,\u201d he said, \u201cwhether he was\nnot spitting venom,\u201d for even now not an atom of green will grow on the\nmeadow where he died.\n\n\n\n\n_THE WANDERING STONE._\n\n\nIn the Zillerthal, about half an hour\u2019s walk from the little village of\nF\u00fcgen, in a small valley on the right-hand side of the entrance to the\nvast forest of Benkerwald, lies a piece of rock some two cubic feet in\nmeasure, bearing on its top side a rude cross chiselled in the stone.\nThe rock is noted all over the country, for each time it is removed\nfrom its resting-place by some supernatural agency, it returns again\nto the same spot. Why it wanders in this strange manner nobody knows,\nbut why it stands there is known to every little village child in the\nsurrounding country.\n\nAt the end of the last century two peasant women of F\u00fcgen were engaged\nby the day in cutting corn at the adjacent farm of Wieseck, on the\nPancraz mountain. The farmer, anxious to get in his corn while the\nfine weather lasted, promised to increase their wages if they hastened\non with their work. At this promise both the girls redoubled their\nefforts, but at the end of the week instead of paying them alike, the\nfarmer in augmentation of their wages gave to one of them two loaves of\nbread, while to the other he gave but one. On their way home close to\nF\u00fcgen, and on the spot where now lies the stone, the two women began\nto quarrel about the bread, and at last the dispute grew so hot that\nthey fell to fight with their sickles, and, like tigresses, the sight\nof blood seemed only to increase their ferocity; and what seems to\nbe incredible, but which is nevertheless perfectly true, they fought\nuntil they both fell down and bled to death on the spot. Here they were\nburied, and over them was placed the stone which still remains there,\nbut none of the villagers will pass that way after nightfall.\n\nThere are numberless people who have convinced themselves of the\nwonderful property of the \u2018Wandelstein,\u2019 and many are the warnings\ngiven by the country folk to travellers who seek to pass there after\nthe sun has set.\n\n\n\n\n_A TYROLIAN FORESTER\u2019S LEGEND._\n\n\nOne day a poor woman of Lengenfeld, in the Oetz valley in the Tyrol,\nwent up the mountains to meet her husband, who was guarding a flock of\ngoats there. On her way she passed by a chapel into which she entered,\nand while she was praying a L\u00e4mmer vulture swooped down and carried off\nin his claws her little son, who was amusing himself outside on the\nmoss. But Heaven ordained that the vulture should settle with his prey\non a peak which was quite close to the goat-herd, who frightened him\noff with stones, and so, without knowing it, he became the preserver of\nhis own child, whom he had not seen since the spring. Now it happened\nthat three good fairies who resided in the neighbourhood of the\nOetz-Thal, beneath an enormous mountain peak called the Morin, had been\ninvisibly active in the saving of the goat-herd\u2019s boy.\n\nThe boy grew up and always bore in his mind an attraction to the\nhighest peaks of the mountains; he became a hardy Alpine climber and\nclever mountain shot, and as such a secret impulse ever pushed him\nto the heights above Morin, for there--so said the legend--was the\nParadise of animals; there were herds of gazelles and stone-bucks, and\nno huntsman had ever succeeded in approaching them. But the fool-hardy\nboy wished to try his luck, and commenced his wanderings, which ended\nby his getting lost, and being in danger of his life. One day he didn\u2019t\nknow where he was, and from the ice-covered peak which reaches into the\nclouds over ten thousand feet high, he slipped down upon a green Alp\nwhich he had been unable to see from above, and in that fall he lost\nhis senses.\n\nAs he came again to himself he was lying on a beautiful bed in the\ncrystal cave of the three fairies, who had saved him for the second\ntime. They stood round him shining with heavenly benevolence, and love,\nand their look awakened in him the sweetest sensations. He remained now\na well-cared-for guest of the fairies, was allowed to look at their\nbeautiful abode, their gardens, and their pets; he was told that his\namiable hostesses were the protecting genii of all Alpine animals, and\nthey made him promise never to kill or to hurt one of those innocent\ncreatures,--no gazelle, no Alpine hare, no snow-hen, not even a weasel.\nHe was allowed to remain with them three days, and had permission to\nworship and adore them. But then he was obliged to promise three things\nfaithfully and on his soul\u2019s salvation, if ever he wanted to return to\nthem, or, in case he never cared to do so, if ever he wished to live\nhappily down in the valley. Firstly, he was bound to observe a silence\nas deep as the grave that he had ever seen the three fairies or been in\ntheir presence; secondly, they made him swear the promise which he had\nalready given, never to do any harm to any Alpine animal; and thirdly,\nnever to let human eye see the way which they were going to show him,\nand through which he might be the more easily able to return to their\nabode. A fourth promise they left to his honour, without binding him\ndown by oath or vow, and that was to preserve the love which he had\nshown to them, and never to have anything to do in any way with any\nother girl. Then, after a tender parting, the son of the Alps was\ntaken into a steep mountain gully which led down to the valley of the\nrushing Achen, which tears along under bowers of Alpine rose-bushes.\nAfter these injunctions, the fairies told him that on every full-moon\nnight he was allowed to pay them a visit of three days\u2019 duration, and\nthat he had only to enter through that gully, and give below a certain\nsign with which they acquainted him.\n\nThe boy returned home completely altered; it seemed as though he was\ndreaming, and soon enough from every one he gained the name of the\n\u2018dreamer;\u2019 for henceforth he never took an Alpine stock in his hand,\nnever went hunting, and never to a village dance, but every full-moon\nnight he stole quietly to the chasm in the rock, deep beneath the\nMorin, entered into the interior of the mountain, and was for three\ndays happy with the fairies, to whose wondrous songs he listened\nentranced. At home his form shrank, he became pale and emaciated, and\nit was in vain that his parents and friends pressed him to tell what\nwas the matter with him. \u201cNothing at all,\u201d he always answered to these\nquestions; \u201cI am as happy as I can be.\u201d\n\nAs his father and mother had become aware of his secret strolls on\nthe full-moon nights, they followed him once quietly, and close at the\nentrance of the chasm his ear was struck by his mother\u2019s voice, who\ncalled his name, and at the same moment the rocks shut together before\nhis eyes, and the mountains crashed down with the noise of thunder, so\nthat rocks fell down upon rocks. The poor boy\u2019s happiness was gone for\never. Troubled and abstracted, he returned to his native village; he\ncared neither for his mother\u2019s tears nor his father\u2019s reproaches, and\nremained apathetic and indifferent to everything; and so he faded away\nuntil autumn arrived, until the herds were driven down into the winter\nstables of the village, and the beautiful summer life of the mountain\nworld died and was covered with snow.\n\nThen one day two friends of the goat-herd arrived, and talked of a\nhunting excursion which they intended to make on the top of the Morin;\nand then for the first time again the eyes of the pale young Alpine\nhunter became bright, the irresistible love of hunting awakened again\nin him,--perhaps, too, there was some greater attraction. He longed to\npenetrate once more into the dominion of the fairies be it even at the\nrisk of his life. As to life, he no longer valued it, and death was a\nliberation.\n\nThe infatuated youth prepared his hunting things, borrowed an Alpine\nstock, for his own had been left behind broken in his fall from the\npeak of the Morin, and then he joined the hunting excursion which\nstarted in early morning. First he walked with them, then he hurried\nbefore higher and higher, as though he was attracted by the most\nirresistible power. His heart grew light as he ascended, for too long\nthe heavy air of the narrow valley had oppressed him. He climbed as\nquickly as though he had eaten arsenic, that fearful poison which\nmany an Alpine climber takes in the smallest quantities to make\nhimself lighter, and at last he caught sight of a sentry gazelle,\nwhich whistled and disappeared behind the peak upon which it had been\nstanding. The young Alpine hunter climbed to the top of the peak, from\nwhence he saw down below him a little green spot, upon which were\nbrowsing, though far beyond his reach, a large herd of gazelles. Only\none of them came within range, and this one he pursued pitilessly,\nuntil the poor animal in her anxiety and terror was unable to proceed\nfurther, and stopped on the edge of a precipice, which the huntsman\nin his excitement had never noticed. He levelled his rifle--the\nplaintive cry of a female voice resounded in his ears, but he paid no\nheed to it,--he took deadly aim and fired. Lo! at that moment he was\nsurrounded by a halo of brightness, and in the midst of that brilliant\nlight stood the gazelle unhurt, and before her floated the three\nfairies in dazzling splendour, but with severe and angry countenances.\nThey approached him, but on seeing their faces without one smile or\nlook of love upon them, the boy was seized with a deep horror. He\nstaggered,--one step more, and backwards he fell down the precipice a\nthousand feet deep; and from the edge, where in falling his feet had\nstood, pieces of stone rolled down, and a tremendous wall of rock tore\ndown after him with a fearful roar, and buried him for ever beneath its\n_d\u00e9bris_.\n\nThere still stands the rock, which is pointed out, even to this day as\n\u2018The Huntsman\u2019s Grave.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_THE PERJURER._\n\n\nOn the Kummersee, which is also called Hindersee, in the Tyrol, the\nparish of Sch\u00f6nna possesses two beautiful mountains which they had\nonly hired in former times from the villagers of Passeir. But at last\nthe inhabitants of Sch\u00f6nna affirmed that they were their own property,\nand therefore commenced a law-suit which was to be decided by oath.\nA man of Sch\u00f6nna committed perjury, which he thought to do safely in\nthe following manner. He stuck in his hat a ladle called in the Tyrol\nsch\u00f6pfer, which is also the German word for Creator, and put in his\nshoes some earth out of his own field. So he appeared on the Alp before\nthe judges and swore: \u201cAs truly as I have the Sch\u00f6pfer above me and my\nown earth beneath me, the two Alps belong to Sch\u00f6nna.\u201d In consequence\nof that oath they were awarded to the villagers of Sch\u00f6nna by the\njudges.\n\nBut at the same moment the devil flew down the precipices, seized the\nperjurer by his neck, and dragged him straight off to hell, leaving\nbehind him as he rushed through the air a dreadful smell of sulphur\nand a train of fire. With his prey he beat an enormous hole through\nthe Weisse Wand, a huge mountain close to the Kummersee, which hole is\nstill to be seen up to the present day as a warning. From thence he\nflew over the Christl Alp down to the village of St. Martin, where he\nrested himself upon a stone, and then dragged the body through the mud\nof the village streets, and as he passed, the devil is said to have\ngrunted, \u201cFor there is nothing so weighty as a perjurer\u2019s body.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE BURNING HAND._\n\n\nIn the village of Thaur, near Salzburg, there lived about two centuries\nago a good priest, who occupied his time in doing charitable works to\nall around. In the ruins of the once huge and superb castle of Thaur a\nhermit had founded his humble little cell, and both priest and hermit\nwere the most intimate of friends, and had vowed to each other that he\nwho should die the first, should appear to the other after death.\n\nThe poor hermit was very clever in making artificial flowers for the\naltar, and one night when busy with his work a knock came to his little\nwindow, and he saw the spirit of his friend who had died a few days\nbefore. At first he was greatly terrified, but pricking up his courage,\nhe addressed the poor soul of the priest, who replied to him and said,\n\n\u201cYou see I am dead in the body, but I have still to do penance,\nalthough I have faithfully fulfilled the commands of God and the Holy\nChurch, have given alms according to my means, have instituted a\nperpetual mass in the church of Thaur, and another in the chapel of St.\nRomedius, and founded an everlasting fund for the poor. For three sins\nhave I this penance to perform, one of omission and two of vanity; out\nof absence of mind I forgot to say a mass for which I had been paid,\nand I have been too vain of my fine white hands and beautiful flowing\nbeard, and for this reason am I now compelled to suffer these torments.\nI pray you therefore to say in my stead the neglected mass,\u201d and the\nunhappy spirit of the priest recounted to the hermit the names of all\nthose people for whom the mass was to be said, \u201cThen, if out of charity\nto me you will fast, pray, and flagellate yourself, and help me in\nthat way to do my penance, the time of my redemption will arrive much\nsooner, as if I had completed them all myself. It will also be a work\nof conciliation for me, if you will tell all I have just told you to my\nparishioners, so that they and my successors may take a warning from\nme, and think of me in their prayers.\u201d\n\nThe hermit answered, \u201cI will most willingly fulfil all you ask of me\nand take upon myself every penance you desire; but if I tell all these\nthings to your parishioners they will never believe me, and will jeer\nat me and say like the brothers of Joseph, \u2018Here comes the dreamer.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, I will give you a sign of proof which will back up your\nwords,\u201d answered the poor spirit to the priest; \u201cGive me something out.\u201d\n\nThe hermit then handed out the cover of a flower-box, upon which the\nshadow laid his hand, and returned it instantly to him; and lo! to his\nastonishment he found, deeply branded upon it, the imprint of the hand\nof the priest as though it had been done by a red-hot iron.\n\nAfter this the hermit zealously commenced the charitable work of\nredeeming the soul of his faithful friend, and continued it many a\nmonth in saying masses, repeating prayers, and subjecting himself to\nthe most severe flagellations, whilst from time to time the troubled\nspirit of the poor priest appeared to him in bodily form, but always\nlighter and more brilliant than before. The pious hermit almost\nsuccumbed under the dreadful effects of his severe penances, which he\nstill carried on for more than a year, when the night of All Saints\narrived, and again the poor soul of his friend appeared before him,\nnow no longer poor, but in the splendour of transfiguration, and said,\n\u201cI thank you, good friend. I am now redeemed; you too shall soon be\nreleased from your earthly bondage, and will return to God penanceless.\nI shall attend you there where there are no more sufferings,\u201d and in\nsaying so he disappeared in the midst of a halo of glory.\n\nSeven days afterwards the hermit died; and now in the charming little\npilgrims\u2019 chapel of the holy Romedius, near Thaur, is to be seen,\nframed beneath a glass case, the wooden board bearing the brand of the\nburning hand, and with the duly attested inscription dated from 1679;\nalso the bust of the priest with the beautiful hands and flowing beard.\n\nThe imprint of the Burning Hand took place on the 27th October, 1659,\nat midnight.\n\n\n\n\n_THE THREE FAIRIES OF THE UNGARKOPF._\n\n\nBetween the village of Imst and the railway station of Nassereit lies\nthe Gurgl Thal (Gurgl valley), through which runs the little stream of\nthe Pilgerbach. On the way from Imst to Nassereit stands the little\nhamlet of Strad, and on making the ascent from this hamlet up the\nUngar mountain, or Ungarkopf, one arrives after an hour\u2019s walk at a\nvaulted grotto, which is the entrance to a vast cellular cavern noted\nin former times as the abode of three fairies, called by the villagers\n\u2018die Heiligen\u2019 (the Holy Ones). These fairies appeared from time to\ntime at the entrance to their grotto, bleaching linen and hanging out\nsnow-white clothes in the sun; they are said to have even come down as\nlow as Strad, and helped the village girls to spin, but people were\ngenerally afraid of them, and they who saw the clothes hanging out in\nthe wind ran off in terror. In this grotto, which is generally called\nthe Eggerskeller, there is a small hole just large enough for a child\nto creep through.\n\nOne day the cowherd of Strad went up the mountain to cut birch for\nbrooms, and as the lovely green before the grotto was just convenient\nfor his work, he sat down there, and stripping the leaves from the\nbranches, set about making his brooms. On the following day when he\nreturned to the same spot on the same business, he found to his great\nastonishment that every little leaf had been swept away, and not a\nvestige of one of them left. He sat down on a rock and began his\nwork, when all at once he heard from the interior of the mountain the\nvoices of three girls, which sounded so charmingly to his ears that he\nwas quite entranced. He listened and held his breath until the song\nfinished, and then he descended the mountain to the village in a state\nof enchantment.\n\nThe cow-herd was soon afterwards on his favourite place, while his\nherd, guarded by his faithful dogs, browsed around him; and again he\nfound the leaves he had left on the preceding day swept away; and as\nhe looked up he saw three white robes floating in the wind, but as he\ncould not see the cord upon which they ought to have been suspended,\nhe was seized with an unutterable terror, and hurried away from the\nspot. \u201cHad he only taken one of these dresses,\u201d still now say the\nsuperstitious people of Strad, \u201cone of the Heiligen would have been\nbound to his service for ever.\u201d\n\nAlthough the dresses had frightened the youth so much, an irresistible\nlonging compelled him a few days afterwards to climb once more the\nUngarkopf, where all at once one of the fairies appeared to him with\nlove and joy beaming on her countenance, but she did not approach him,\nand it seemed rather as though she wished him to follow her, for she\nlooked smilingly behind, entered into the mountain and disappeared from\nhis gaze. He dared not follow her. Henceforth he listened only to their\nenchanting songs, which resounded from the interior of the mountain,\nand consumed himself in silent longing.\n\nAbout fifteen years ago there lived in the village of Strad a peasant\nof the name of Anton Tangl, who is now dead. One day this peasant went\nup the mountain in the neighbourhood of the grotto, to dig up young\nfir-trees, which he intended to place round his Alpine hut. While\ndigging up these trees, one of them was more firmly fixed in the ground\nthan the others, and he was obliged to go very deep to get the tree\nup. When he lifted it out of the ground he discovered a deep hole, and\nlooking down he saw far below a green meadow, through which trickled\na milk-white rippling stream. At this the man was greatly astonished,\nbut still more so when upon the green meadow far beneath him he saw on\nthe grass, like little tiny dolls, the three fairies. They were sitting\nclose to one another, interlaced together by their arms, and singing\na sweet song whose air he could distinctly hear, without being able\nto catch the words. Tangl listened until nightfall, when he could no\nlonger see into the interior of the mountain. Then he descended to the\nvillage, and recounted what an extraordinary thing had befallen him.\nBut of course no one would believe, and therefore on the following\nday several of his friends went with him up the Ungarkopf. Tangl went\non bravely before the others, and searched for the spot, but in vain;\nand he was now compelled to suffer the ridicule of his companions, who\ncalled him a fool, a liar, and a dreamer.\n\n\u201cIf I had only held my tongue,\u201d Tangl used to say when he recounted\nthis story, \u201cand had entered into the mountains instead of telling\nothers what I had seen, I should have been able to bring many precious\nthings out of them, and should have been rich and happy all my life;\nbut man after all is but a stupid animal.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE GREEN HUNTSMAN._\n\n\nIn the village of St. Johann, in the lower part of the valley of the\nInn in the Tyrol, the following incident took place some fifty years\nago.\n\nA girl who had been jilted by her lover refused to go to a wedding to\nwhich she had been invited by her neighbours, and where there was to\nbe music and dancing. In her grief and despair she raged and noised\nabout at home, until the evil one in the form of a green huntsman\nappeared before her, and invited her to the dance. Without reflecting\nany longer she went with him to the wedding-feast, glad that her\nunfaithful suitor should no longer enjoy his triumph. The huntsman\ndanced so fast and so well that all the guests admired him, for he sang\nand was the most spirited among them all. But in spite of this, every\none shuddered when they looked at him, for his mien was like that of a\nsnake, sly and venomous. The girl, however, did not care at all about\nit, and enjoyed herself all the evening.\n\nOn their way home the huntsman asked the girl if she would allow him to\nserenade her on the following evening, to which she gave a most joyful\nassent. On the following night, just as the church clock was striking\ntwelve, some one knocked at the girl\u2019s bedroom window. She opened the\nlattice to greet the huntsman, who now appeared before her in the\ndevil\u2019s most hideous form. He seized upon her and dragged her fiercely\nthrough the narrow iron bars which guarded it, so that pieces of skin\nand flesh remained hanging on them, and the warm blood ran in streams\ndown the wall. He then flew off with the screaming girl through the air.\n\nUp to the present day it has been impossible to wash or rub those blood\nstains away, and any one who passes through the little village of St.\nJohann, can see them for himself.\n\n\n\n\n_THE TYROLIAN GIANTS OF ALBACH._\n\n\nIn a wild mountain valley in which only savage animals and reptiles\nwere to be found, and in which vast expanses of moss covered the swamps\nso treacherously that even bears and wolves had been engulfed in them,\na huge giant arrived one day, looked at the surrounding country, and\nchose it for his abode. He dug himself a cave, built drains through\nwhich he sent off the superfluous water into the lower valleys; and as,\nafter having chopped down enormous expanses of forest, he found that\nit had become quite to his taste, he set off in search of a wife. He\nneither wished for a fairy nor a moonlight maid, and for that reason he\nwent upon the peaks of the mountains, from which he soon returned with\na giantess who was as strong and savage as himself, and who assisted\nhim dauntlessly in all his abominable works.\n\nIn three years they were obliged to considerably enlarge their\nhabitation, as their three young giant sons began to grow up; and when\nthese became strong enough, they helped their father to build a new\nhouse. The old giant felled the trees on the Alp Mareit, which stands\nabout six miles from his former abode, and his sons dragged the trunks\nto the building-spot. They were not then very strong, and could only\ndrag one tree each at a time, which, however, was no less than eight\nfeet in diameter. Only the youngest of the giant\u2019s sons, whose name was\nBartl, sometimes dragged two at once, at which his father smiled with\ncontentment.\n\nTo make his new residence like that of a civilized family, the giant\ncaught a few \u201cflies,\u201d as he called them, which were men and clever\ncarpenters, who were compelled to hew and shape the wood, in which work\nthe giant\u2019s sons helped in turning the trees, as it would have been\nimpossible for the carpenters to do it themselves.\n\nPeople call the swamp which the giant has drained the Rossmoos, and\nto the giants they gave the name of the Rossmooser Riesen (Rossmoos\ngiants), while the new house received that of the Rossmooser Hof\n(Rossmoos farm), which still stands upon the peak of Albach opposite\nStolzenberg.\n\nAfter the building had been finished a few years, the old giant\nfather felt the approach of age in the gradual loss of his strength;\ntherefore he began to think of making over his property to one of his\nsons. But he did not know to which of them to give it, as all three\nwere equally dear to him, and at that time the laws of birthright were\nnot yet introduced into the giant-race, no more than the institution\nwhich exists in other places, and according to which the youngest son\nreceives the house, and pays to his other brothers their share in ready\nmoney. Therefore in his perplexity he talked it over with his wife, who\nadvised him thus, \u201cGive it to the strongest of them, and then you have\ndone.\u201d\n\nThis idea pleased the giant very much, and that day at dinner he said\nto his sons, \u201cBoys, I am old, and one of you shall have the house;\nbut each of you is as dear to me as the other, and so I think you must\ndecide it by throwing a stone, and the one who proves himself the\nstrongest shall have the house.\u201d\n\nThis proposition was very acceptable to the giant\u2019s sons; and after the\ndinner was finished, the old fellow took a stone of 650 pounds into\nwhich was fastened an iron ring weighing 50 pounds, and carried it\nfifteen paces from the Hof, which fifteen paces made just one mile, as\nthe giant with one step covered as much ground as would take a human\nbeing five minutes to walk. Now they proceeded to the trial according\nto the ancient rules of throwing stones, as it was invented centuries\nago by the giants themselves. He who had to throw stood with the left\nleg firmly planted on the ground, while with the right foot, which was\npassed through the iron ring of the stone, he swung it against the\nmark, which in this case was the giant\u2019s Hof, and the stone was to\nalight on the other side of the house.\n\nThe eldest son commenced; he took up the stone and flung it, but it\ndidn\u2019t even reach the mark, and fell far short into a fence, which it\nsmashed to pieces. The second son then fetched the stone and tried his\nchance with more success, for he touched the house and knocked in the\nfront wall.\n\n\u201cYou stupid asses!\u201d shouted the old man, \u201cis that the best you can do?\u201d\n\nNow came the turn of the youngest, who did even better; for he threw\nthe stone so vigorously and high that it fell on the top of the roof,\nthrough which it crashed like a bomb-shell and destroyed everything in\nthe house.\n\n\u201cOh, my Bartl!\u201d sneered the angry old giant, \u201cyou are a clever fellow.\nYou have gained the house, but now you will be obliged to repair it.\u201d\nAnd then he began to rave, \u201cYou sacrischen Sauschw\u00e4nz, that you are.\nNow look at me, poor weak old thing, how I will beat you. Run, dear\nwife, and bring me back the stone.\u201d\n\nHis wife ran and brought him the stone on the little finger of her\nleft hand, which just passed through the ring, and the old giant set\nhimself in attitude according to the rules of the game. He hurled the\nstone with such tremendous force that it fell far on the other side of\nthe Rossmooser Hof; and seeing this the three young giants slunk off\nquite ashamed of themselves. The old giant sighed as he said, \u201cThere is\nreally no strength left among the young folk. At one time one had no\ncause to be ashamed of himself. I remember still how I carried a stone\nweighing a hundred centner (10,000 pounds) from the Kolbenthalmelch\nplace to the Kolbenthal saw-mill, where it is still lying; you can go\nand look at it there, you Fratz\u2019n.\u201d\n\nAt the same time as these giants were living at the Rossmooser Hof,\nthere resided a couple of other giants upon the Dornerberg in the\nZillerthal, who always cast angry looks at young Bartl, and challenged\nhim very often to fight. Bartl avoided them as much as he could, and\nshowed no inclination to measure his strength with them, for he had\nnot a quarrelsome nature. One day the giants of Dornerberg met the\nRossmooser Riesen with Bartl, at whom they sneered, and mockingly\nchallenged him again to fight with them, but as Bartl was undecided and\nwould not answer, the old giant became angry with his son and said,\n\u201cYou are then no bub (boy) at all, that you suffer all this.\u201d\n\n\u201cShould I fight them?\u201d asked Bartl, and as his father nodded his head\nhe added, \u201cBut, father, it\u2019s not worth my while to fight one alone, so\nI shall fight them both at once.\u201d\n\nThe fight then began, and Bartl instantly seized upon the two\nDornerberg giants by the collar, held them up, beating the air with\ntheir hands and feet, until their eyes streamed with water; he then\ndashed them on the ground where they lay stunned, and it was only with\nthe greatest trouble that they were restored to life. When they came to\ntheir senses, they stole away from the scene of the fight quite ashamed\nof themselves, and made up their minds never again to have anything to\ndo with Bartl, whose fame, after this tremendous victory, spread far\nand near through the country; for the Dornerberg giants were in no way\nweak, since each of them carried seven to eight centners (600 to 700\npounds) from Zell, in the Zillerthal, up the Dornerberg, where they\nlived in a deep cavern. With this huge weight they sprang lightly from\nstone to stone in the river which runs through the valley, and even\nstooped down and caught the trout in their hands as they passed over.\n\n\n\n\n_THE WITCH\u2019S VENGEANCE._\n\n\nAt Sterz, about an hour\u2019s walk from Brixen, on the line from Innsbruck\nto Verona, close beneath the mountain called Rodeneck, there lived some\nfifty years ago in a fine farm-house a well-to-do young couple with\none child. In all the villages round about an old beggar woman was\nmuch dreaded as a witch, and this woman came very often to the farm\nbegging. The good people of the farm used to give her directly all she\ndesired, just to rid themselves of her importunities. But one day the\nfarm-labourers made up their minds to discover whether the old hag was\nreally a witch or not, and after she had entered the room, they set\na broom on end before the door. It was on a Saturday evening. When a\nbroom is put upside down before a door--such is the superstition of the\npeople--the witch cannot get out again.\n\nWhen the hag therefore tried to get out, she saw the trick, and\nremained in the room until late at night. At last she said angrily to\nthe peasant\u2019s wife, \u201cSweep out the room; it is Saturday evening, and\nhow comes it that you leave the room so long unswept?\u201d\n\nThis she repeated many times, but always to no purpose, for the\npeasant\u2019s wife knew about the trick; but when she saw that the hag was\nbecoming tremendously angry and fierce, she was dreadfully frightened,\nand ordered the servant to take the broom and sweep out the room.\nDirectly the servant took up the broom and removed it from the door,\nthe hag darted out full of venom, hatred, and spite, and the most\nrevengeful determinations.\n\nAnd what a vengeance this was! She dried the cows, brought down storms\nand destroyed the crops, made their child hopelessly ill so that it\ndied; the poor farmer went into a decline through grief, and his wife\nwas misled over the Rodeneck by the diabolical creature, and broke both\nher arms and legs.\n\nSo cruel is the vengeance of a witch.\n\n\n\n\n_THE PIOUS HERDSMAN._\n\n\nAbout three miles above Uderns, in the valley of the Ziller, lies the\nAsten or Voralp, also called the Stuben, upon which a poor spirit used\nto wander, seeking its redemption.\n\nThe proprietor of the Asten was unable to find any one who would\nundertake to guard his cattle on the mountain, for every one was afraid\nof the ghost. At last, a poor brave boy offered himself for this\npurpose, and was of course gladly accepted.\n\nOne day as he was driving his cows upon the mountain, he saw a tall\ndark figure wandering about a few steps from the door of his little\nhut, which is called in the Tyrolian dialect the schlamm. The boy\ninstantly spoke to the apparition, and asked whether he could not do\nanything to release him from his pain, to which the ghost answered,\nyes, he could, if during a whole year, without omitting one single day,\nhe would devoutly repeat a rosary, and promise during that time never\nto swear or do a bad action, and always to say the rosary at the same\nhour every day.\n\nThe honest son of the Alps conscientiously fulfilled his duty for a\nvery long time, until one day in the summer a pretty little village\ngirl came up the mountain and begged the cowherd to stand godfather to\nher sister\u2019s child, for they were very poor, and knew no one who would\nbe likely to accept the office but him. The good herd promised directly\nthat he would; and when the day of the baptism arrived, he well fed his\ncows and then set off down the mountain to Uderns. After the ceremony\nwas over, he had intended to return immediately up the Asten, as it is\nthe custom in the Tyrol to feed the cattle four times a day. But the\nmother of the child implored him to remain a little longer with them,\nand so one thing and another prevented him from starting so soon as\nhe had wished. It happened therefore that he remained in the village\nuntil evening had set in, for they insisted on serving him with good\nliqueurs, which to the poor cowherd were a great treat, as it is very\nseldom one of his position has the chance of tasting such a thing.\nAt last he set off on his return, and as he climbed the mountain he\nremembered that he had forgotten the hour of his prayers, and was so\ngrieved at this omission, that he cried bitterly, and repeated aloud\nthe neglected rosary as he went along. Then the idea struck him that\nhe would also offer up his baptismal work for the benefit of the poor\nspirit.\n\nWhen he arrived at his hut he proceeded immediately to the stables,\nthinking to himself, \u201chow hungry the poor cattle must be,\u201d but great\nwas his astonishment when he saw that the best food had been placed\nbefore them, and that everything was in the most perfect order; but\nfar greater was his surprise when after he had retired to rest, the\npoor spirit appeared before him, clad in snow-white garments, and told\nhim that he was now redeemed, and that which had been principally\ninstrumental in his redemption, was the offering which the good\ncowherd had made of the baptism of the child. After this the spirit\ndisappeared, and has never been seen again. Since this fact became\nknown, it has been, and still is the custom in all parts of the Tyrol\nfor godfathers and godmothers to make an offering of the baptismal rite\non behalf of the poor souls in purgatory.\n\n\n\n\n_THE ADASBUB._\n\n\nAbout sixty years ago there lived at Lengenfeld, in the valley of the\nOetz, a man of enormous height, called generally \u201cthe Adasbub,\u201d who was\na perfect monster, besides being a thief, glutton, sot, and fighter.\nHe had been among the soldiery, and fought in many wars, from which he\nhad returned still more savage and wild than ever; he had brought home\nlarge sums of money from foreign countries, which he had stolen and\nextorted from people, and now he bought a farm of his own, which he\nbegan to manage, though more like a pagan than a Christian. He never\nwent to church, but was always to be seen in the village inn, where\nhe boasted the first in Lengenfeld about his velvet jacket decorated\nwith buttons made out of old pieces of silver money. The young fellows\nof the village soon became ashamed of their clothes, and wished to\nimitate the vain ideas of their paragon.[1] The Adasbub was besides of\nenormous bodily strength, and had already at once defeated fifty men,\nwho had attacked him; and he who offended him had to fear lest this\ndreaded man might go, as if by accident, and turn a mountain torrent\nupon his farm, or roll down huge snowballs, with most likely rocks\nhidden in them, upon his roof.\n\n[1] In the Tyrol it is the custom for the peasants to have their\njackets and waistcoats decorated with rows of silver buttons, which are\nsewn on in such a manner that they overlap each other. These buttons,\nof which they are very proud, are all made of old silver money, and\neach row contains from fifteen to twenty of them.\n\nHis whole pleasure and only occupation was to swear, drink, bluster,\nand injure his neighbours; he surrounded himself with a gang of fellows\nwho suited his tastes, and was their leader in carrying out the most\nfearful outrages. They tore the doors of the peaceful inhabitants from\ntheir hinges, and carried them away into the forests; hoisted the\nfarmers\u2019 carts upon the roofs of their houses; stole the wine from the\nsacristies, which they drank to the perdition of the priests; shut up\ngoats in the little field chapels, and pulled down the crosses in the\ncemetery, which they stuck upside down in the ground over the graves,\nand boasted in their wickedness that they were making Christendom\nstand upon its head.\n\nA newly-concocted villainy was to be carried out in a farm, which\nstands upon the Burgstein, above Lengenfeld, and it had reference\nto the farmer\u2019s daughter; but the farmer came to hear of it, and\ndetermined to defend his home against the outrages of these cowardly\nvillains. So he sharpened his axe, and as the Adasbub entered the\nhouse, he brought it down with tremendous fury upon the head of the\nmonster of iniquity, who fell dead at his feet with a split skull. On\nseeing their leader receive this unlooked-for welcome, his companions\ntook refuge in flight, and there was an instant alarm throughout the\ncountry. People from all parts swarmed up the Burgstein, and thanked\nthe farmer for having delivered the country from such a wretch.\n\nThey cut off the head of the Adasbub, and dragged the body to the edge\nof a precipice, from which they pitched it down on to the road, which\npasses by a now much frequented sulphur bath, called the Rumunschlung.\nThe head was thrown into the charnel-house of the cemetery of\nLengenfeld, where it still lies, a terror and warning to all wicked\nmen. The skull is nearly cloven in two, and from time to time, at\ncertain midnights, it gets red hot all over, and is then horrible to\nlook at. Many people say that when it is burning, it rolls from the\ncharnel-house into the chapel, in which it turns round and round in a\ncircle, and then jumps again back to its place, where it slowly cools,\nand next day it looks again just like any other skull.\n\n\n\n\n_THE WHITE SNAKE._\n\n\nClose to Mitterwald, on the little river Eisach, rises on the\nright-hand side of the village the enormous mountain called the\nMitterwalder Alp, upon which, on account of the great number of\nvenomous snakes which were there, no cattle could be pastured. The\nmajority of these were huge white reptiles, of which the people were\nparticularly fearful. About fifty years ago there arrived in the\ncountry one of those students, or as they called them, \u201cFahrende\nSch\u00fcler\u201d (wandering collegians), to whom people used to attribute\nsupernatural power, and the peasants asked him to rid them of the\nplague of snakes.\n\nThe student promptly assented to their request, and went up the\nmountain, where he made a circle upon the Alp-meadow, and ordered the\npeasants to plant a tree in the middle of the ring; then he climbed\nthe tree, and by his incantations he charmed all the snakes into the\nlarge fire which he had lighted around it. But all at once a huge snake\nhissed loudly and fiercely, and on hearing this the student cried out,\n\u201cI am lost;\u201d and at the same moment a white snake darted with the\nswiftness of an arrow through his body, and he fell dead from the tree,\nand was consumed in the fire.\n\nThose who recounted this tale added, \u201cIt was a hazel-worm, for only\nthose snakes have the power to dart through the air like an arrow and\npierce through people\u2019s bodies.\u201d On the spot where this accident took\nplace, and where the student made the fiery circle, there has never\nsince an atom of grass grown again.\n\nIt is asserted the blindworms had once the same power, until it was\ntaken away from them by the Blessed Virgin, who has caused them ever\nafterwards to remain sightless.\n\n\n\n\n_THE SCHACHTGEIST._\n\n\nAbout an hour\u2019s walk from Reit, on the left-hand side of the entrance\nto the valley of the Alpbach, is situated a farm which bears the name\nof Larcha, and close to this farm is a deep mine in the side of the\nmountain, which at the time of this legend was being worked, and it\nwas called the Silber Stollen (silver mine) of the Illn. Nine miners\nwere employed in working the mine, and in it resided a Schachtgeist\n(mine ghost), who showed to the poor honest miners the richest lodes of\nsilver. Their luck was extraordinary, and huge bars of the precious ore\nwere carried every day out of the mine; and as the men worked on their\nown account, they soon became enormously rich, and for this reason they\nbecame also very dissolute and profligate. They were no longer content\nwith their simple miners\u2019 attire, but bought fine clothes; they would\nno longer wear their grey blouses, but they would have velvet and rich\ncloth, and their wives went about dressed up in the most gorgeous\ncolours.\n\nThe proverbially simple Alpb\u00f6cker Tracht (costume of the Alpb\u00f6ck) was\nentirely set on one side by them, and a new fashion introduced; besides\nthat, all sorts of iniquities were practised by them, which it would be\nimpossible to describe.\n\nThis made the benevolent Schachtgeist intensely angry; he became fierce\nand savage, and when he appeared at the entrance of the mine his mien\nforeboded anything but good. Meanwhile the miners went on more badly\nthan ever, and got so extravagant in their notions, that they even\ncleaned their tables and chairs with bread-crumbs. One day the farmer\nof Larcha was standing taking the fresh air at his door; the clouds\nforeboded a thunderstorm, and the air was dark and heavy. He had\nbeen working with his men down in the cellar, from which they could\ndistinctly hear the noise of the miners\u2019 hammers, as they shouted and\nsung over their work. All at once the Schachtgeist passed by the door\nof the farm, and called out to the farmer in a terrible voice, \u201cShut\nyour doors, and misfortune shall escape you; I am away to the Illn to\nsilence the miners.\u201d The terror-stricken farmer crossed himself, and\non his knees implored Divine protection, while the ghost tore up the\nmountain, and then he shut his doors and returned to his work. Not\nlong after, the farmer and his men heard fearful shrieks, which were\nimmediately followed by a crash like thunder, which shook the earth,\nand made the cellar in which they were working tremble. They rushed\nup into the farmer\u2019s room, and began to repeat the rosary, and as the\nnoise abated they went to bed.\n\nOn the following morning the news of a terrible calamity spread far\nover mountain and valley. The miners had been buried in the mine by an\nearthquake, and their shrieking wives rushed wildly about, rolling in\nthe dust, and, in their agony and despair, they nearly tore off the\nfeet of the crucifix which stands just above the farm on a cross-road.\nBut still more horrible was it when it was discovered that the buried\nminers were alive in their prison, and screaming for help in the depths\nof the mountain. For ten long days the terrible scene lasted; when at\nlast, after having worked night and day, the villagers succeeded in\nentering the passage in which the miners were entombed; but there a\nhorrible spectacle presented itself to their eyes. Over the dead bodies\nof the nine miners was sitting the Schachtgeist, covered with blood,\nand terrible to look at, with the visage of the devil, and glowering at\nthe victims of his just wrath and judgment. The miners had been starved\nto death, and were holding the leather of their shoes in their teeth,\nafter having gnawed their fingers to the bones.\n\nEvery one who wanders over the mountain, and passes by the farm of\nLarcha, can hear this dreadfully true legend, up to the present day,\nfrom the farmer, who is the son of the man who was witness of the fact.\nAnd if after the evening Angelus has rung, by any chance a door in the\nfarm remains open, the housewife directly calls out, \u201cShut the door,\nso that misfortune may escape us.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE THREE BROTHERS._\n\n\nAt Reut, a village between Unken and Lofer, lived a peasant who had\nthree sons. The two eldest of these were hardy gazelle hunters, and\nfeared God as little as they did the dangers of the mountains; but the\nyoungest was better, and different from his brothers; he took interest\nin the farm, though now and then he was induced by them to accompany\nthem to the chase. So it happened once that he went with them to the\nhigh mountains, and on a Sunday they were already standing high on the\npeaks when the day dawned, and at that moment they heard the Angelus\nringing from the village of Unken. The younger huntsman implored his\nbrothers to return, so that they might be in time for church; but as\nthey would not go, he did not go either.\n\nAs they mounted higher and higher they heard the mass bells ringing\nat Unken; the youngest brother said, \u201cLet us go back.\u201d But the others\njeered at him and said, \u201cThe whistle of a gazelle is more to our taste\nthan the mass bells and sermon.\u201d When the enthusiastic huntsmen had\narrived on the very top of the mountain, the bells rang again, and the\nyoungest brother said, \u201cListen, there is the elevation, we ought to\nhave been there.\u201d\n\nBut his brothers sneered at him, and replied, \u201cA fat gemsbock here is\nmuch more to our mind than the body of the Lord in the village church\nbelow.\u201d These words were scarcely out of their mouths, when clouds as\nblack as ink enveloped the mountains, and everything became dark as\nnight; then came on a thunderstorm, as though the world was at its end.\nAfter the storm was over the three brothers were found on the peak of\nthe mountain, turned into stones in the form of gigantic rocks, and\nthere they still stand, known to every little Tyrolian child under the\nname of \u201cthe Three Brothers.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE FIERY BODY._\n\n\nRound about the village of St. Martin, in the Passeierthal, the parish\ncomprises a great many single-lying farmsteads, which are dispersed\nabout to the north in every direction for seven or eight miles towards\nthe parish of Platt. In one of these farms a man was lying very ill,\nbecause on a Sunday, instead of going to church, he had hunted in the\nneighbouring forest, and had slightly wounded his foot with the iron\nheel of his other boot. It seemed as though the wound was poisoned, for\nit grew continually worse and worse, and at last threw the man into a\ndeadly fever. The neighbours implored him to give up his evil ways, for\nhe was a wicked fellow, and took delight in mocking at religion, and\nalways, above every other, chose a Sunday or _f\u00eate_ day for his hunting\nexcursions.\n\nBut, wishing to appear an _esprit fort_, he answered that he preferred\nto arrange his own affairs with the Creator without their interference.\nIn spite of all this, a good priest tried to persuade him out of his\nevil ways; but the wicked man replied to his exhortations by throwing\na plate at him, out of which he had just been eating his milk soup. He\nremained obstinate and hardened, \u201cdetermined,\u201d as he called it, to the\nlast.\n\nOne day, when he was dying, the people of the house ran down to the\npriest, and implored him to come and save the unhappy sinner if it was\nstill possible. The good priest, accompanied by his sacristan, hastened\ndirectly up the mountain, carrying the Holy Sacrament with them. As\nthey arrived close to the farm, they were met by a fiery red body\nrushing through the air, spitting flames as it flew. It aimed directly\nat the priest, and was the body of the unbelieving Sabbath-breaker,\nwho had died without repentance. The sacristan fell to the earth\nterror-stricken; but the priest said, \u201cFear not, Christ is with us,\u201d\nand as he spoke these words the fiery body rushed by, leaving them\nunhurt, and hurled itself down the fearful precipice of the Matatz\nvalley.\n\n\n\n\n_THE VENEDIGER-MANNDL UPON THE SONNWENDJOCH._\n\n\nNot many years ago a little man of Venice, Venediger-Manndl, as he was\ncalled, clad in dark clothes, arrived in the Tyrol to gather gold bars,\ngold sand, and gold dust, out of the streams of the mountains; he was\nalways seen in the small valleys, and especially on the Sonnwendjoch;\nhe arrived in the spring, and went away again in the autumn. He was a\ngood-hearted quiet little fellow, and on his way home he always passed\nthe night in the hut of the herd who lived upon the adjacent Kothalp,\nnear the Sonnwendjoch, which belongs now to Praxmarer, the innkeeper\nof Reit. Now it happened that the honest old herd of the Kothalp died,\nand his hut was taken by a wicked old man. The Venediger-Manndl entered\nas usual into the hut to pass the night, but the new herd, pushed on\nby the devil of avarice, made up his mind to kill him in the night,\nand to appropriate all his wealth. But the little herd-boy warned the\ngold-finder in time to enable him to save himself. Since then he has\nnever been seen again.\n\nThe little herd-boy grew up, and became later on a servant at\nIsarwinkl, in Bavaria, where he afterwards became a soldier, and\nmarched with the army into Italy. His regiment was stationed at Venice,\nand a few days after his arrival in the city he walked, full of\ncuriosity, slowly along the beautiful palaces which stand on the canal,\nwhen all at once he heard his own name called from a window on the\nfirst story of one of them, and a person beckoned him to come up. He\nran quickly up the wide marble stairs, and was received on the top by a\nnoble Venetian, richly dressed in black velvet, who conducted him into\na splendid apartment, and told him to take a place upon a sofa; then\nsitting down at his side, he said, \u201cYears ago you saved the life of a\nVenetian upon the Kothalp, and now you are going to be rewarded; so let\nme know your wish, and all you want you shall have.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet that be, kind sir,\u201d answered the soldier; \u201cI did but my duty,\nHeaven will recompense me if I have deserved it.\u201d\n\nThis answer seemed to please the Venetian, who took the young man by\nthe hand while saying, \u201cThat shows me that you are a real Tyrolian.\u201d\nThen he entered into a little side-room, and soon afterwards returned\nin the dress in which he had appeared as Venediger-Manndl on the\nKothalp. The soldier instantly recognized him, and was rejoiced\nat meeting him. Now the Venetian repeated his offer of gold and\nriches, but the soldier once more declined, and answered, \u201cHealth and\ncontentment are my riches, and that God will grant me as long as he\nsees it fit to do so; though I have one wish, after all, which is to be\nfree of my service in the army, so that I could go back to Isarwinkl,\nwhere I have my love, a girl like milk and blood.\u201d\n\nThe Venetian had scarcely heard this wish, when he took directly a\nlarge white cloth, in which a mantle was wrapped; he took out the\nmantle, put it over the shoulders of the soldier, and then covered\nit with the white cloth. All at once the soldier felt himself rising\nin the air. \u201cGreet your love from me\u201d were the only words he could\ncatch from the Venetian; for like an arrow he was borne away through\nthe high and grated bow-windows which are used at Venice, the white\ncloth enveloping him like a soft cloud, carried him along swiftly and\ngently, and set him down before the house of his love. In the pocket of\nthe mantle he found a rich bridal gift.\n\nHappiness never deserted the young fellow; he became very soon a happy\nhusband, and bought himself out of the army, and since then he has\noften recounted this adventure.\n\n\n\n\n_HAHNENKIKERLE._\n\n\nIn the hotel of the \u2018Golden Star,\u2019 at Innsbruck, there once arrived a\nvery rich foreign Princess, who was suffering from a terrible disorder,\nwhich had baffled the efforts of every doctor to cure. Dr. Theophrast,\nof whom the Princess had heard, and whom she had come to Innsbruck to\nconsult, declared that it was a malady over which he had no control,\nalthough he was a \u201cWonder Doctor.\u201d This was a great loss to the Doctor,\nand a terrible shock to the Princess, who had travelled so far in hopes\nof a cure.\n\nOne day when she was lying inconsolable in her bed, a little tiny man\ncame into the room, who offered his services and gave her a potion,\nwhich he told her would restore her to health. But the little fellow\nadded that on that day year he should return, and if she had forgotten\nhis name, which was \u201cHahnenkikerle,\u201d she must promise to marry him,\nand to live with him under the H\u00f6ttinger Klamm. The Princess gladly\naccepted this proposition, and she awoke on the following morning as\nfresh and healthy as a May rose.\n\nShe remained in Innsbruck, where she gave feast after feast, and in\nthis way the year soon passed by. All at once she remembered her\npromise to the little dwarf, whose name had escaped her, and every\neffort to recall it was in vain. She asked many people, but no one\ncould tell her; she confided her anxiety to her friends, but, of\ncourse, they could neither help her nor give her any advice. Only a\npoor servant girl, who came to hear of it, determined to try and help\nthe good Princess. So she went into the Klamm, hoping to hear something\ncertain there; she listened, and crept about all over, and at last she\nheard in the depth of the Klamm a joyous shouting, and down below\nshe saw the dwarf jumping and singing, \u201cHurrah! the Princess in the\n\u2018Star\u2019 doesn\u2019t know that my name is Hahnenkikerle.\u201d The girl hurried\nhome as fast as she could, and told the Princess all she had heard. Now\nthe Princess remembered the name, and when the day came and the dwarf\nappeared, she called out to him, \u201cHahnenkikerle;\u201d at hearing this the\ndwarf rushed away raging into the mountain.\n\nThe girl was rewarded by the Princess; and when she married an honest\nburgher of Innsbruck, she received a princely dower.\n\n\n\n\n_THE SORCERER OF SISTRANS._\n\n\nIn Sistrans, a village close to Innsbruck, there lived, some sixty\nyears ago, a man who was noted in all the surrounding districts for\nhis evil and quarrelsome disposition. He attended every Kermesse and\nvillage meeting at which it was the custom of the blackguards of the\nsurrounding country to go and fight, but he never found one who could\nmaster him.\n\nThis superhuman strength was not his only distinguishing quality,\nfor he was well up in other more doubtful arts, and was able to do\nrather more than \u201cboil pears without wetting the stalk.\u201d Should a\nfine fox or a fat hare be running in the forest close by, he set his\ntraps just behind his stove, and in the morning the game was sure to\nbe caught. Should anything have been stolen, people came to him, for\nhe had means of compelling the stolen goods to be restored. For this\npurpose, he merely took a little book bound in pigskin out of his box,\nand began to read; and wherever the thief might be, he was forced by\nsome irresistible power to take the stolen goods upon his back and\nbring them before the sorcerer, by whom the proprietor must always be\npresent. This little book had such a power that, at each word read\nby the sorcerer from it, the thief was obliged to make a step; and\nthree times woe to him who had stolen something which was heavy, or\nwas obliged to bring his burden from a long distance, or over steep\nmountains, while the man was reading; from far off his pantings could\nbe heard, and he was drenched in perspiration when he arrived at the\nspot.\n\nOne day the sorcerer made himself a footstool of nine different sorts\nof wood, upon which he knelt down close to the organ in the church, and\nlooked down upon the people, and there saw all the old hags and witches\nas they stood at the lower end of the church. After the service was\nover, these old hags set upon him in herds, and would have torn him to\npieces had not the priest come in time to his rescue, for the hags now\ndiscovered that he had found them out.\n\nThis man had once on Christmas Eve stolen the consecrated Host, while\nthe priest held it up after the consecration, and carried it with him,\nwrapped in a little piece of cloth always hidden on his left arm. From\nthis proceeded all his unsurpassable tricks and indomitable strength.\nBut at last came the \u201cScythesman Death,\u201d who cast him down upon the bed\nof sickness, and, in spite of all his strength and cleverness, he was\nbound to die; but that was a very hard thing for him. Three long days\nand nights the quarreller lay in the last agony without being able to\ndie. Several times the priest came to him, and at last, after long\nexhortations and prayers, the dying man made a confession.\n\nThe Host, which had already grown into the arm, was cut out, and all\nthe books and writings belonging to the art of sorcery which could be\nfound were burnt; and as they were thrown into the flames it roared and\nthundered dreadfully, and there was such a terrific heat that the lead\nin the window-frames melted and ran down in streams, and during this\nhellish noise the sorcerer died.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GIANT SERLES._\n\n\nOn the Brennerstrasse, which leads out of Innsbruck, three huge scarped\nmountains raise their lofty peaks above the road, and these peaks are\nalso plainly visible from the Inn valley, through which the railway to\nInnsbruck now runs.\n\nThere once lived in the neighbouring valley of the Sin a \u201cWilder,\u201d or\nwild man of enormous stature, who was a dreaded King of the Mountains.\nHe was of a most extraordinarily savage nature, his wife as bad as\nhe was, and his secret counsellor still worse than both. The King\nwas passionately fond of hunting; and when on the track of a flying\nstag, he cared so little about anything but his own pleasure that\nhe would dash, accompanied by all his followers and hounds, through\nthe flocks and herds pastured on the mountains, carrying death and\nruin wheresoever he went. Should the poor hunted animal by chance\nseek refuge among a herd, the demoniacal monster would take delight\nin urging on his bloodthirsty hounds to tear everything to pieces;\nand did the unfortunate herdsmen only try to make any remonstrance,\nthey instantly shared the fate of their unfortunate animals, and\nwere dragged to pieces on the spot by the savage dogs. On these\noccasions the giant, whose name was Serles, used to shout with joy,\n\u201cLustig gejaid\u201d (bravely on), and neither man nor beast were able to\ndefend themselves for a single moment against his fury. His wife and\ncounsellor always accompanied him upon these excursions, and urged him\non by their taunts to further excesses.\n\nOne day when they were out on one of their favourite expeditions, and\nthe dogs had not only torn to pieces a poor stag, which had taken\nrefuge among a herd of cows, but had also furiously attacked the\nherd itself, the herdsmen tried to drive them off, and one of them\nunslinging his cross-bow, in his anger, shot a dog dead upon the spot.\nAt this the infuriated giant, excited beyond measure by his wicked\nwife and villainous counsellor, set the whole pack of hounds upon the\nunhappy herdsmen, and laughed with savage delight as he saw them torn\nlimb from limb by the dogs. But in the midst of this terrible crime,\nHeaven\u2019s wrath fell heavily upon them. A terrific thunderstorm burst\nover their heads, and when it had passed away no more was to be seen of\nKing Serles, his wife, or his counsellor, but, in their stead, three\nhuge glaciers rose into the clouds on the spot on which their iniquity\nhad taken place. The one in the middle is the wicked monster Serles,\nand to his right and left stand his cruel wife and inhuman counsellor.\n\nTeamsters who pass along the Brennerstrasse on stormy nights even\nnow often hear the howling of unearthly dogs, and, during storms,\nthunderbolts are constantly seen striking the \u201cRock Giants.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_LEGENDS OF THE ORCO._\n\n\nThe Tyrolians believe in the existence of the Orco, who is accounted\nto be a huge and powerful mountain ghost, who never ages; he is said\nto reside generally in the clefts and chasms of the precipices between\nEnneberg Abbey and Buchenstein and the surrounding mountains. He adopts\nevery form, and exercises his enormous strength only in destroying.\nEverything he does is for the terror and annoyance of mankind; he\nvery seldom takes the human form, and when he does it is of gigantic\nstature, with the most malevolent, wild, and cruel expression; he is\nthen dressed in the manner of the giants, or quite naked, but covered\nthickly with hair, like the coat of a bear.\n\nThe following legends, collected on the spot, give a few instances of\nwhen and where he has been seen:--\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Innkeeper, Anton Trebo, in Enneberg, who died in the year 1853, was\na firm-minded man and noted as a great quarreller; he was sharp and\nenterprising in his business, and laughed to scorn all his guests when\nthey ventured to recount anything about the Orco, who was held in most\nterrible dread by all the inhabitants of the surrounding country. Anton\nTrebo used to say that he believed in no apparition from either heaven\nor hell.\n\nIt was in the year 1825 that he returned from the market of St.\nLorenz in his cart, with his son Franz. As he arrived at the rock\ncalled \u201cDelles Gracies\u201d (Rock of Grace), where in the hollow niches\nof the rock still stand many carved wooden statues of Christ and His\nsaints, and just as he passed by, there all at once appeared a huge\nmonstrous black dog, which ran round his cart and horses, and looked\nso diabolically that even the otherwise courageous bully was almost\nterrified. He held the reins tightly, and said to his son, \u201cWhat is the\ndog doing there? Drive him away.\u201d Franz tried to frighten the brute off\nwith stones and blows, but the dog would not move, and Trebo, becoming\nmore and more frightened, made the sign of the cross, and all at once\nthe dog disappeared before their eyes.\n\nSince this adventure, the innkeeper of Enneberg, believed firmly that\nit had really been the Orco, and has always defended his conviction\nof the existence of this fearful mountain ghost. Franz has taken the\nplace of his father, and is now innkeeper of Enneberg, where one of his\nbrothers lives with him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn 1816 a brave peasant woman of Brenta, in the valley of Buchenstein,\nwhose name was Maria Vinazzer, went with her son, who was nine years\nold, to meet her herd of cows which were returning from the Crontrin\nAlp. It was a beautiful autumn day, and they advanced the more gaily,\nas they were accompanied by the worthy parish singer, Lazar. As they\narrived on the mountain side, all at once a wild horse trotted before\nthem so suddenly that it appeared as though he had sprung from the\nground, and wherever he trod fire played round about his heels.\n\nLazar, who was a courageous mountaineer, threw stones at the brute, but\nthey rebounded from his sides, as though he had thrown them at a rock.\nThe horse would not be driven away, and always galloped before them. On\nseeing this extraordinary apparition, Maria said, \u201cThis is certainly\nthe Orco, and if he meets the herd he will surely disperse it, as\nhe has often done, and the cows will run in all directions over the\nprecipices and chasms.\u201d They all three crossed themselves and repeated\na prayer.\n\nAt that moment they arrived at the cross-way, called Livine, where\nstands a crucifix, and as the Orco approached near to it, he\ndisappeared as suddenly as he had appeared; he neither sank into\nthe earth, nor flew away through the air, but like a soap-bubble he\nvanished in an instant.\n\nAll three stood and prayed a little time before the cross, where the\nherd soon after gaily arrived, and the pious mother said joyfully to\nher son, \u201cLook, dear child, he who is with God is everywhere safe, and\nno Orco or other evil spirit can harm him.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFrom the village of St. Kassian a young fellow went one evening to a\ndistant farm to visit his sweetheart, and it was getting already dark.\nThe youth heard several times the Orco calling out from a distance, but\nhe paid no attention to it, and continued quietly his way. All at once\nhe saw a little empty cart, dragged by four cats, run across the road;\nat this sight he was rather frightened, but still continued his way,\nnot being able to make out what it all meant, when, on a sudden, there\narrived a big black dog, with fiery lynx eyes, which grew bigger and\nbigger the nearer he came. \u201cThat is the Orco,\u201d thought the boy; so he\ncrossed himself, and ran home as fast as his legs could carry him.\n\nThe dog bounded constantly after him for about a distance of three\nmiles, and his fiery tongue hung for more than half a yard out of\nhis jaws. The saliva which dropped from his mouth was like blue\nflaming fire, and burned like sulphur, filling the air around with\na suffocating smell. The boy reached home, unharmed by the dog; but\nhe had run so hard that his lungs became diseased, and he was always\nsuffering, till death released him a few months afterwards.\n\n\u201cThe cats which dragged the cart over the road,\u201d said the people who\nrecounted this legend, \u201cwere hags, of whom there were thousands about\nat that time.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOne day two young men of Ornella, in the Buchenstein valley, started\non a brilliant night to pay a visit in a neighbouring village to their\nloves. They had scarcely left home when they noticed that they were\nfollowed by the gigantic Orco, in the form of a wild bull, who first\nwalked quietly behind them, and then, as they began to run, changed\nhimself into a huge ball, which rolled after them, bounding over high\nrocks, and alighting again on the ground close to them, with so much\nforce and such a terrible noise that they were afraid of being crushed\nto death.\n\nIn their anxiety, they took the way over the meadows to the village of\nValazzo, and jumping over the fence, which they had no time to open or\nbreak down, fell into the yard, at the foot of a large crucifix, which\nstands there, and embraced the cross, in a dying condition, with their\narms. The Orco appeared at the fence, though now in human form; but\nthe poor youths were so terrified that they dare no longer regard him,\nand therefore were unable to describe his appearance. He beat with his\nhands upon the fence-bars so furiously, that the marks of his blows\nremained for years afterwards, as though they had been branded in by\nred-hot irons, until the wood decayed and a new fencing had to be put\nup; but the saving cross still stands upon the same spot.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA peasant boy of Enneberg, walking through the deep and vast forest\nof Plaiswald, heard from afar the voices of men shouting, and took\nthem for woodcutters, so, according to the usage of the country, he\nanswered them, and shouted several times just in the same tones as the\nvoices he had heard. But then the horrible idea rushed into his mind\nthat it might have been the Orco, and, at the same instant, he heard\nit quite close, for if one imitates the Orco, the monster arrives as\nfast as lightning. The youth tried to run away, but he felt as though\npetrified; all around him became darkness, and he fell senseless to the\nground.\n\nOn the following day, when he came to himself, he discovered that\nhe was in the forests of Wellschellen, on the highest peak of the\nmountain, and it became clear to him that the Orco had carried him\nthere, although the forests of Wellschellen were on the other side of\nterrifically deep chasms and precipices, into which the Orco would most\ncertainly have thrown him, had the peasant boy been a godless fellow.\nHe returned home, covered with bruises and scratches, for Orco had torn\nhim in such a terrible manner that to the end of his days he never\nattempted again to imitate the voice of any one in the forests. The way\nover which the Orco dragged the peasant is a good seven miles.\n\n\n\n\n_BIENER\u2019S WIFE._\n\n\nIn the ancient castle of B\u00fcchsenhausen, which stands just above\nInnsbruck, still wanders about the apparition of one of its former\npossessors. The legend does not say to whom the castle originally\nbelonged, but old chronicles relate that it passed, in the sixteenth\ncentury, into the hands of the celebrated iron-founder, Gregor L\u00f6ffler,\nwho gave it the name of \u201cB\u00fcchsenhausen\u201d (home of guns), because he had\nestablished there a gunfoundry. Later on it fell into the power of\nthe reigning family of Austria, and the Archduchess Claudia presented\nit to her favourite Chancellor, Wilhelm von Biener, a liberal-minded\nnobleman, gifted with the doubtful talent of writing the most cutting\nsatires, whose venomous point he turned against the nobility and\nchurch, and, for this reason, he brought upon himself the hatred of all\nthose against whose opinion he wrote; but the favour of the Archduchess\nprotected the talented statesman, who was most faithfully devoted to\nher interests.\n\nOn the 2nd of August, 1648, the Archduchess died, and then the\nenemies of Herr von Biener set to work so energetically that, after\na short time, they succeeded in turning him out of his position, and\nimprisoned him on the 28th of August, 1650. A royal commission of\nnoblemen, consisting of Biener\u2019s greatest enemies, hastened down to\nB\u00fcchsenhausen, and claimed from his wife all his papers and documents,\namongst which they discovered satires, which were most useful to their\npurpose. He was accused of high-treason, and, as his enemies were both\nhis accusers and judges, he was condemned to death. His wife visited\nhim while he was in prison, and he, who knew himself to be guiltless of\nany crime, always consoled her with these words:--\u201cThere can be no God\nin Heaven if they are allowed to murder an innocent man.\u201d\n\nOn the 17th of July, 1651, Herr von Biener was executed in public.\nThe sword which was used on the occasion is still to be seen in the\ncastle of B\u00fcchsenhausen. His wife had sent a messenger to the Emperor\nto pray for a reprieve, which he had granted; but one of Biener\u2019s most\ndeadly enemies, President Schmaus, of the Austrian Court, stopped the\nmessenger, and of course the execution ensued.\n\nA few days afterwards, the rascal who had stopped the merciful errand\nof the Emperor was found dead through the judgment of God. Frau von\nBiener went raving mad; through the whole house she tore from room to\nroom, crying, \u201cThere is no God; there is no God.\u201d At last she climbed\nup the peak behind the Martinswand, and threw herself over a precipice\ninto a deep chasm, out of which she was carried a corpse to H\u00f6ttingen,\nwhere she was buried on the left-hand side of the altar, under a plain\ntombstone bearing no inscription, and with only a cross cut upon it.\n\nSince her death she has appeared very often as a wandering ghost to a\ngreat number of persons, and the inhabitants of the surrounding country\nhave given her the name of the \u201cBienerweibele\u201d (Biener\u2019s Wife). Clad\nin long black robes, slowly and solemnly she walks along through all\nthe rooms in the castle, passes through firmly locked doors, stops with\na woeful look at the bedside of peacefully sleeping people, appears\nto each proprietor and his wife before their death with wonderful\nconsolation, always foretelling the immediate approach of the \u201cDreaded\nSpirit,\u201d and never harms those who have never done her any injury.\nBut in the year 1720, it happened that a descendant of one who had\nbeen instrumental in her husband\u2019s death, who was sleeping in the\ncastle, was found dead in his bed on the following morning, with a most\nfearfully contorted neck. The ghost appears in a black velvet mantle,\nand bears on her head a little bonnet, called in the dialect of the\ncountry, \u201cHierinnen,\u201d embroidered with black lace, and on the back\nof her head a beautiful little golden crown, which is fastened on her\nhair by the means of a silver pin. People say that in former times the\napparition was quite black, but at present it is more grey, and every\nday she is becoming more light, until at last her unhappy spirit will\nbe redeemed.\n\n\n\n\n_THE LENGMOOS WITCHES._\n\n\nA rich peasant of Lengstein had a son who had travelled a great deal,\nand, on returning home, he laughed at the repeating of the rosary,\nwhich all the good peasants are in the habit of saying every evening.\nHis mother was very anxious about the profane ideas and behaviour of\nher son, for he mocked just as much at every other usage of the holy\nchurch, which he was pleased to designate as \u201cjokes of the priests.\u201d\n\nOne day several of his companions were sitting with him at the inn\ncalled \u201cZu dem Ritter,\u201d and there some one of them recounted that on\nevery Thursday night hags had been seen dancing, and carrying on\ntheir diabolical practices on the Birchboden, which was close by; they\nwere seen arriving on the mountain from all parts, riding on black\nbricks, and holding there their unholy Sabbath. On hearing this, the\nrich peasant\u2019s son laughed loudly, and said, \u201cWait, there I will dance\nwith them;\u201d for it was just Thursday evening. His friends advised him\nnot to do so, but, in spite of their warnings, he set off, and they\naccompanied him up to the Mittelberg, where stands the Kebelschmiede,\nand where the wild stream of the Finsterbach rushes through a fearful\ngully. From thence, the young fellow ran singing gaily through the\nforest to where there is an open spot, called the Birchboden, and where\nnumberless pyramids of porphyry rise to the height of twenty and thirty\nfeet above the ground.\n\nThere he saw the frantic witches dancing and jumping together, and\nperforming all sorts of tricks. This pleased the mad young man, and\nhe ran to take part in their unholy dance; but when the huge clock of\nthe magnificent monastery of Lengmoos struck _one_, the Finsterbach\nfoamed wildly up, and the pyramids of porphyry tottered to their very\nbase. This the friends of the peasant, who were waiting for him, saw\nperfectly well, and a wild storm of wind and hail came suddenly on, so\nthat they were obliged to take refuge in the hut of the Kebelschmid\n(Kebelsmith). There they waited until the morning Angelus had rung,\nat which moment they knew that the hags\u2019 power would come to an end,\nand then they went to the witches\u2019 ground. But how terrified were they\nwhen they found their wicked comrade transformed into a stone, and\nfixed firmly into the earth, so that only three-quarters of him could\nbe seen. His stone form still remains on this dreadful spot, and no\ngreen--not even an atom of moss--will grow over the head, body, hands,\nor feet of the \u201cWitch-dancer.\u201d\n\nAfter nightfall no one dares to approach the scene of this terrible\nretribution, where stands so fearful a warning to all mockers and\ndespisers of religion.\n\n\n\n\n_BINDER-HANSL._\n\n\nIn the hamlet of W\u00e4lsch\u2019nofen, about ten miles from the village of\nV\u00f6ls, lived a certain Binder-Hansl. He was a broom-binder, and, as his\nname was Hans (or John), they called him the \u201cBinder-Hansl.\u201d\n\nHe died in the year 1824, and was regretted all over the country, for\nhe was a noted peasant doctor, or \u201cWonder Doctor,\u201d as they called him.\nBesides curing all sorts of maladies of man and beast, he had a charm\nagainst sorcery and witchcraft, and where any suspicious circumstance\ntook place in house or stable, Hans was called, and never failed to\nhelp.\n\nOne day, in the time of war, the Binder-Hansl went to the village of\nBotzen, and on the route, near the lane called Kuntersweg, he met the\nsmith of the village of Kartaun, who had been forced by the French\ntroops to carry their big drum, which was very heavy, and when the\nsmith complained very bitterly about it to his friend, Hans said\nlaughingly, \u201cI should send the drum to the devil, and then I should\nbe rid of it.\u201d At this the French punished him for his boldness, by\nforcing him to march with them, carrying at his turn the drum on his\nback. So he was obliged to carry it up to the Feigenbr\u00fccke, near\nBlumenau; but when he had arrived there, he set the drum on the ground,\nand said, \u201cBy this way I have come, and by this way I will return;\u201d\nwhile a Frenchman, who spoke German perfectly well, said, \u201cChurl, take\nup the drum, or--\u201d and he lunged at him with his naked sword. But the\nBinder-Hansl laughed at him, and replied, \u201cWe shall see;\u201d and at the\nsame moment he stretched out his hand over the Frenchmen, and they\nbecame all as motionless as stones.\n\nThere he left them standing and went laughing from the Feigenbr\u00fccke,\nover the steep mountain lane, which is called the \u201cKatzenleiter\u201d\n(Cat\u2019s Ladder). After he had climbed to the summit of the mountain, he\nshouted, \u201cBe off, fools, now you have seen my power,\u201d and making again\na sign with his hand, they all came to life, and taking up their drum\nthey ran off, as only Frenchmen can.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GOLD-WORM OF THE ALPBACH VALLEY._\n\n\nNear the \u201cReichen-Felder\u201d (rich fields), behind the valley of Alpbach,\nis often to be seen, especially on the eve of holy-days, a gold-worm of\nwonderful brilliancy, which lies there motionless, and wrinkled in such\na manner that it looks like a golden chain.\n\nSometimes this gold-worm has also been seen down in the valley far\nbeneath the Reichen-Felder, even once so far as the banks of the\nAlpbach, on a spot which is called G\u2019reit. Several times daring people\napproached the worm, but when they had come near to him they were\nstruck with an uncontrollable terror; and on running to fetch others as\nwitnesses, on their return the worm was no longer to be seen.\n\nThe peasants round about say, \u201cThose people had not the grace of\nputting something sacred upon the worm, and for that reason it\ndisappeared.\u201d After all, it is not stated what the worm is, whether it\nis a treasure-bloom, or a treasure-guardian, of which there are numbers\nin this rich gold country.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GLUNKEZER GIANT._\n\n\nIn the Volder valley, out of which rises the Glunkezer, and where now\nstands the sheep Alp, called Tulfein, is a very picturesque mountain\nmeadow, in the middle of which, some centuries ago, a peaceful King\nhad built his palace, in which he lived with his four daughters, of\nwhom each was more beautiful than the other. Round about the palace was\na magnificent garden, full of Wonder-Flowers, and large expanses of\nmeadow-lands, upon which tame Alpine animals browsed in large herds,\nand of these the four daughters of the King were very fond. They went\nalso very often down into the huts of poor herds-people, to whom\nthey did all sorts of charity, and all around they were honoured and\nreverenced as protecting genii.\n\nThis quiet happiness was troubled, and at last destroyed, by the\narrival of a wild giant in this Alpine paradise, who built himself\na cavern on the top of the Glunkezer, from whence, during the night,\nhe roared so dreadfully that the mountains trembled, and huge masses\nof rock rolled down into the valleys. After he had caught sight of\nthe four daughters of the King, he determined to try and gain one of\nthem for his wife; so he decorated his bearskin mantle with enormous\nnew buttons, tore up a fine tree for a walking-stick, passed his\nlong finger-nails a few times through his shaggy beard and hair, and\nset off down to the Tulfein to pay his addresses. The King\u2019s heart\ntrembled with fright as he saw this pretender to the hand of one of his\ndaughters, and replied that his daughters were perfectly free to choose\ntheir own husbands, therefore, if one of them would accept him, he\nshould have no opposition to make.\n\nUpon this the giant made himself as small as possible, but that was\nnot very much, and did not bring him in much either, for one after\nthe other of the girls refused him. This enraged the giant out of\nbounds, and he determined upon the most terrible vengeance, which he\ndid not tarry in executing as quickly as possible. In the following\nnight, rocks as large as a house rolled down upon the Tulfein, hurled\nagainst the palace, which they carried along with its inhabitants into\nthe Wild-See, into whose depth it disappeared, and which was almost\ncompletely filled up with the tumbling rocks. The little of its dark\nwaters which is still left, now bears the name of the \u201cSchwarzenbrunn\u201d\n(black spring), and round about it is a \u201cdeath valley,\u201d for nothing\nwill grow there.\n\nAfter the vengeance of the giant was satiated, repentance came over\nhim, and he mourned for the murdered innocent father and daughters,\nhe sat for whole nights on the borders of the Wild-See, into which he\ngazed, and howled and cried so incessantly, that even the stones had\npity on him, for they became quite soft, and his cavern trembled and\nfell to ruin. At last he bewitched himself and became a mountain dwarf,\nwhile the King\u2019s daughters were transformed into fairies or mermaids,\nand appear often on moonlight nights, floating over the water. There\nthen sits the small grey dwarf, stretching longingly his hands towards\ntheir light forms, which however dissolve in mist; the dwarf then\nplunges again into the See, with a noise so great that it seems as\nthough a large rock had fallen into it, and cools in a cold bath the\nagony of his remorse.\n\n\n\n\n_THE WEAVER OF VOMPERBERG._\n\n\nThe practice of the medical art is even now in the higher parts of\nthe Tyrol rather in a primitive state. Those who are ill send a\ncommon messenger down to the doctor, to whom he has to explain all\nthe illnesses of those who have sent him, and, therefore, he has to\nconsult sometimes for twenty or thirty illnesses at a time. The doctor\nlistens to his explanations, and gives to one patient a potion, to\nanother a tisane, to another an unguent, etc., and hands the whole lot\nto the messenger. Happy it is if, in the confusion of his ideas, the\nmessenger does not change the medicines, but gives to each patient his\nown. In this manner used the peasant V\u00f6gele to cure, who died in 1855,\nin the hamlet of Matrai, in the Under Wippthal. From early morning till\nlate in the afternoon his farm was overrun with the sick, or their\nmessengers.\n\nBut the arts which the weaver of Vomperberg, near the village of Vomp,\nin the Inn valley, practised were unknown to human doctor, for they\nwere supernatural. It was generally reported that he was in league with\nthe evil one, and eye-witnesses have even certified that the devil\nonce caught him, but that the clever magician managed to slip through\nhis fingers. This weaver, who died in 1845, once sold a herd of pigs\nto a peasant on the opposite side of the river Inn. The purchaser was\ndriving his pigs over the bridge called Nothholzerbr\u00fccke, and, as they\narrived in the middle, lo! they all disappeared. All those to whom he\nrecounted this called out, \u201cThe weaver is a cunning fellow, he has got\nthe money, and no doubt he has bewitched the pigs back again to his\nsheds.\u201d\n\nIn his anger the peasant, after drinking a few bottles of wine, and\nwhen his head was rather hot, returned to the hut of the weaver, who\nwas lying on a long plank, warming his feet against the stove. The\nindignant and half-drunken peasant threw himself upon the man, and,\nin his anger, tried to drag him out of the hut by his feet, but oh,\nHeaven! he had scarcely touched the feet, when they both came off in\nhis hands. Trembling with terror and fright, he dropped the feet on the\nfloor and ran off, and has never dared again to say one word about the\nloss of the pigs.\n\n\n\n\n_THE FIERY SENNIN._\n\n\nOver the high valley of Alperschon stands a mountain called\nGerichtsalp, belonging to the canton of Landeck, of which the judge,\nfor centuries past, has had the right of letting the meadows to all the\ndifferent parishes of the district; and from time immemorial it has\nbeen the privilege of the flock-herds to pasture there also their own\nanimals, together with those of their masters, and then to sell them in\nthe autumn on their own account.\n\nThere was at that time upon the Alp a young \u201cSennin\u201d (or herd-woman),\nwho had among the herd some of her own pigs, of which she took rather\ntoo much care, for she cheated the parish to feed them, and gave them\ngoat-milk and the milk from the butter, so that they soon became very\nfat and round; while the parish pigs she made live upon the thin\ncheese whey, upon which, of course, they did not thrive. The Sennin was\nalways gay and joking, and sang the nicest songs, and therefore every\none liked her for her good temper, and nobody dreamed that she was an\nalm thief.\n\nA couple of root seekers of the village of Schnaun, the girl\u2019s native\nvillage, often climbed the Alp, and one day, when busy over their work,\nthey remained there longer than usual, after the Sennin had driven\nthe herd home. They were in the habit of using the empty enclosure\nin which the pigs were driven to rest in the middle of the day, as a\ndrying-place for their roots, and when they returned home again, late\nat night, to Schnaun, they heard to their great astonishment that \u201cthe\npretty young Sennin\u201d had suddenly died, and they stayed a few days in\nthe village to attend her funeral with the rest of the villagers.\n\nSome few days afterwards, they went up again on the mountain to resume\ntheir usual business, and it was almost quite dark as they arrived on\ntheir favourite spot. As they approached the enclosure, they heard the\nvoice of some one calling the pigs to their feeding-troughs, which\nthey immediately recognized as that of the dead young Sennin, and, as\nthey approached nearer, they saw her in bodily form, carrying a bucket\nof whey in her hand, and walking about in the enclosure, but red as a\nfiery furnace. The men stood thunderstruck and gasped with terror, and\nthe spirit called to them, \u201cYes, sigh for me; here I must burn until my\ndishonesty is wiped away, even to the last _pfennig_;\u201d and in saying\nthis she disappeared from their sight, while making a terrific noise,\nand enveloped in a cloud of sulphurous smoke.\n\n\n\n\n_THE SPIRIT OF THE ZIRL USURER._\n\n\nBeneath the Solstein, which stands over 9000 feet high, and upon whose\nsummit on certain Thursdays the witches are said to dance, is situated\na dreadful chasm, which takes its name from the charming village of\nZirl, which lies at the foot of the mountain, and has more the aspect\nof a little town than an Alpine village. There once lived a wealthy\nmiller, a noted usurer, who amassed no end of unjustly gained money,\nand, as after his death none of his wealth was restored to those whom\nhe had defrauded, his spirit was condemned to the depths of the chasm,\nwhere he suffered indescribable torments, and often during the night\nhis screams have been heard crying, \u201cHelp, help me!\u201d\n\nAbout twenty years ago, two merry gazelle hunters were walking in the\nnight from the village of Soln, over the Sch\u00fctzensteig, on their way\nto H\u00f6tting, and, as it became very dark, they resolved to pass the\nnight above the Zirl chasm, for fear of falling, in the darkness, over\nsome precipice, or meeting with any other accident. They lighted a\nlarge fire, and during the night they heard somebody call out, \u201cHelp,\nhelp me.\u201d The two men immediately thought some one had fallen down the\nprecipice, and one of them shouted, \u201cHave patience, for the night is\ntoo dark for us to venture down the gully, but to-morrow we will help\nyou out.\u201d In the early dawn they set off to hunt for a track by which\nto descend the precipice to the rescue of the unfortunate traveller.\n\nOn their way they met the shepherd of Soln, and told him of their\nnight\u2019s adventure, and, as they recounted it to him, he said, \u201cThere\nyou may look in vain, for this call comes not from a lost traveller,\nbut from the wicked miller;\u201d and he then told them all he knew about\nthe wretched money usurer. Many people of Zirl have also heard these\nfrightful screams for help, first in one place and then in another, for\nthe chasm is dreadfully deep and long. In the very depth of it, and at\nthe foot of the Solstein, lies the Graupenloch, where a roaring torrent\nforms a high cascade, and fills the chasm with the roar of thunder,\nand even to this day nobody has ever dared to descend to this spot.\nThere sits the spirit of the miserable usurer, howling, with chattering\nteeth, in his freezing torment.\n\n\n\n\n_THE ALPINE HORSE-PHANTOM._\n\n\nOn the high Alp, called Els, in the Hinderdux, resides a mountain\nspirit, which the inhabitants of the surrounding country are unable\nto paint horribly enough. It is described as a terrible horse-phantom,\nwhich nobody dare approach, and which snorts fever and death\nwheresoever it goes. Many mountaineers and gazelle-hunters have met\nwith their death by this spirit, and only he is safe who has gun,\nsword, and dogs with him.\n\nOne day a courageous Alpine hunter resolved to go and fight the\nmountain ghost, so he loaded his rifle with a crossed bullet, and\nclimbed up the mountain. Not far from the hut, which stands on the Els\nAlp, is a cross, at which he knelt and repeated a prayer, and he had\nscarcely left the spot, when a little grey mountain dwarf drew near to\nhim, and begged for a little bread and brandy. The huntsman shared with\nthe dwarf his bread and smoked-gazelle meat; after which the little\ngrey man told him to go back, and bring his gun, sword, and dogs, or\nelse he would be powerless against the mountain ghost, who otherwise\nwould smash him into pieces. The gazelle-hunter followed this advice,\nand soon returned to execute his courageous purpose.\n\nBut it happened far otherwise than he had expected. The mountain\nghost, in the form of a horrible horse, appeared, and galloped upon him\nwith tremendous fury, snorting fire and sulphurous smoke, stamping, and\nroaring, and neighing so loud, that the very mountain shook with the\nsound; then he shouted to the huntsman with a voice of thunder, \u201cYou\nrascal, if you had not gun, sword, and dogs with you, I should smash\nyou to pieces.\u201d\n\nAt this reception, the huntsman stood like one petrified; his teeth\nchattered, and all desire to fight with a ghost passed away for ever\nfrom his mind. The horse-phantom then turned his heels and galloped\nback again to the Gletscherwand, from whence he had come.\n\n\n\n\n_THE WITCHES OF G\u2019STOAG._\n\n\nNot many years ago a very rough mountain lane led from Tarenz to Imst,\nwhich was called the G\u2019stoag; the post-road now runs over this spot,\nand still bears the same name.\n\nThe tailor, Anton Gurschler, of Strad, once returned home from\nGrieseck, near Tarenz, where he had been to visit his sweetheart. It\nwas getting on for the ghost hour, and as he arrived near the smith\u2019s\nshop, called Hoada-Schmiede, near G\u2019stoag, he ran up against a little\nchapel, which is consecrated to the holy Vitus, and, having hurt\nhimself in the violence of the shock, he was very angry, and began to\nswear, for he wanted to know who had pushed him so savagely. At that\nmoment a carriage with lights drove up, and in it were sitting some\nwomen, whom the tailor immediately recognized perfectly well. They\nstopped the carriage, alighted, and offered to dance with him, and\nturned him round and round, without his being able to resist them.\nThen, as they released him, one of them whispered in his ear, \u201cIf you\nsay one word about this, you had better look out for yourself;\u201d and\nthen they drove off like a flash of lightning. The tailor was stupefied\nwith amazement, and, in his anger, he recounted to his friends at home\nall that had befallen him, in which, however, he did very wrong, for he\ngrew thin and ill, and went out at last like the spark of a candle.\n\nTo another man, a shoemaker of Tarenz, whose name was Jennewein\nLambach, happened the following circumstance:--He was on his way to\nthe castle of Starkenberg, close by his village, and on passing by the\nchurch, he neither stopped a moment, nor crossed himself, as it is the\ncustom in the country to do. It was yet dark, for the shoemaker had got\nup earlier than he was aware of; all at once he heard the sounds of\nmagnificent music, to which he listened for a long time with delighted\nears, and then, to his astonishment, he heard the church clock strike\nmidnight. He shuddered with fright, for he knew that something must\nbe wrong, and hurried on as fast as his legs would carry him to\nStarkenberg, where he was engaged to work; but as there he could find\nno peace of mind, on account of his strange accident, he returned home\nagain in the afternoon. While he was sitting drinking a glass of wine\nwith the innkeeper Marrand, of Tarenz, a woman of the village entered\nthe room, and said to him mockingly, \u201cThe music last night must have\npleased you very much, for you listened like a stupid.\u201d The shoemaker\nwas struck dumb and could not reply, for it came to his mind that what\nhe had heard in the preceding night had been hags\u2019 music, and that\nthat very same woman had been amongst the number of the witches. From\nthat time he shunned the creature as much as possible, but never told\nany one what had happened to him on that eventful evening. He then\nbought himself an alarm clock, which he set up close to his bed, so\nthat he never went again too early to his work, and thus by his silence\nhe no doubt escaped the dreadful fate of the poor tailor.\n\n\n\n\n_THE HEXELER._\n\n\nIn the village of Hall, in the valley of the Inn, close to Innsbruck,\nlived a man who was a peasant doctor, cattle doctor, and fisherman, in\none person; he was also a noted witch-finder, and, as such, held in\nterrible dread by all those who had \u201cred eyes.\u201d His name was Kolb, but\nhe was generally called the \u201cHexeler\u201d (hag hunter), or \u201cHexenkolb.\u201d\n\nOne day Kolb was engaged fishing in the lake, called Achenthaler-See,\nwhen suddenly thunderclouds as black as ink collected over his head,\nand on a sign which he made with his hand, a weather hag fell down\ninto the water. The hag seized the side of Kolb\u2019s little boat, who,\nhowever, beat the rudder down upon her hands, with the intention of\ndrowning her, but she implored him to save her, promising that she\nwould renounce her witchcraft. \u201cAs to me,\u201d said Kolb, \u201cI will save you\nif you will give up your wicked trade; but you must hand over to me\nyour sorcery book, so that I shall know all your hellish artifices,\nand be able to discover their antidotes.\u201d After a long dispute, during\nwhich the hag was nearly drowned, she gave him a book, in which her\nmost secret charms were written down.\n\nAfter that incident, Kolb became one of the first \u201cWonder Doctors\u201d\nin the Tyrol. When he was asked to cure somebody, the sufferer was\ncompelled to come to him during the night, and it was only on special\noccasions that he consented to visit the house of the sick. When he\nwas called to the assistance of a bewitched person, he made exactly\nat midnight the smoke of five different sorts of herbs, and, while\nthey were burning, the bewitched was gently beaten with a martyr-thorn\nbirch, which had also to be cut during the same night, and through\nwhich means, at each stripe that was given, the hag who had bewitched\nthe person received the most terrible blow, so that the blood flowed at\neach stroke. Kolb went on beating in this way, until the hag appeared\nand took off the charm. But, during the operation, no one was allowed\nto speak, and the necromancer alone treated with the witch. If any one\nhad spoken but one word, the Hexeler\u2019s power would have gone for that\nnight, and all his work would have been useless.\n\n\n\n\n_THE CAT-HAGS OF GRIES._\n\n\nCats generally take a large share in anything appertaining to\nwitchcraft, and as single apparitions, out of the company of some\nhag, they are scarcely, if ever, to be seen; though Peter, one of the\nservants at the farm of Simel, near the village of Gries, once had the\nmisfortune to meet them.\n\nThe farmer was an excellent manager, and never allowed any of his\nservants to be out in the evening after the Angelus had sounded. But\nPeter had been a volunteer, during the revolution of 1848, and, as\nsuch, he considered himself entitled to take more liberty than the\nothers, and to go after hours and pay a visit to his love. One evening,\njust as he had arranged to carry out this plan, the farmer, who was\na member of the parish administration, said, after supper, to his\nservants, \u201cNow you all go to bed; at two o\u2019clock to-morrow morning I\nshall call you, for it has been decided by the Council that we must go\noftener on patrol round about, to keep on the look out for the Welsh\nrepublicans, which are expected in the country, and to shoot them down\nwherever they appear, for the sake of preserving order and peace.\u201d\n\nThis command anything but pleased Peter, who, however, apparently\nobeyed, and went to bed; but soon afterwards he got up very quietly,\nand thought to himself, \u201cLong before the clock strikes two I shall be\nback;\u201d and then he crept silently through the stables, and hurried\ntowards the Berghof farm, on the mountain where his sweetheart lived,\nto bid her good-bye for ever, should it be necessary, in case he fell\nin the war against the Welsh rebels.\n\nHe remained till one o\u2019clock at the Berghof, and then he set off home,\nrunning as fast as ever he could, and he had arrived already within\na distance of two or three hundred feet of the Simel farm, when,\njust over his head, he caught the sound of suppressed whispering. He\nlooked about, and lo! all about him, the air and ground was full of\ncats, of all colours and shapes, black, white and tricoloured, which\nsprang upon him from every direction. Frightened out of his wits, poor\nPeter began to pray and cross himself, when all at once the tribe of\ncats disappeared; but this release did not last long, for when he\nhad reached the farm, he found the cats sitting in a swarm round the\nentrance-door, and they stopped him from getting in, and against this\nno praying, no cross-making could avail, for the cats set up such a\nterrific noise, that the poor bewildered fellow lost his senses of\nhearing and seeing. He made up his mind, however, to get into the farm\nat any risk, and, springing through the cats, he gained the little door\nby which he had gone out; but the door was closed, so he was forced\nto knock at the great entrance, where he was received by the farmer\nhimself, who, after giving him a good scolding, concluded his sermon\nin these words:--\u201cThere is nothing so fine spun but that it comes\nalways to the sun.\u201d[2]\n\n  [2] \u201cEs ist nichts so fein gesponnen,\n       Es kommt immer an die Sonnen.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE LOCKSMITH OF THE FLIEGERALM._\n\n\nUnder the mountain, Fliegeralm, which now belongs to the Baron\nSteinbach, of M\u00fchlau, used to stand the shop of a locksmith, whose name\nwas Huis. The hut was situated in a most beautiful position, on the\nedge of a rushing mountain torrent, close to the side of a dense and\nmagnificent forest of fir-trees. The locksmith was an industrious and\nfearless man, and the report that during the winter a \u201cKaser-Mandl\u201d\n(a Tyrolian mountain ghost) walked about, could not deter him from\nbuilding his house just beneath the Alm; so he went up in the autumn\nto fell trees for its construction, about which he set determinedly to\nwork.\n\nThe hut was soon finished, and then the locksmith lighted a large fire\nand commenced his business. One evening, while engaged over his work,\nhe heard footsteps prowling round the hut, and directly afterwards the\ndoor was violently shaken, as though it would be forced in. Huis got\nup, and called out, \u201cWho is there?\u201d and then opening the door, he said,\n\u201cWell, come in then;\u201d but nobody was to be seen. He went once more to\nhis work, and again heard the same footsteps about the house; so at\nlast, becoming uncomfortable, he determined to retire to rest, in order\nthat he might get up very early in the morning to finish what he was\nabout.\n\nHe laid himself down upon a bundle of hay, on which he soon fell\nasleep; but an hour or two afterwards he was awakened by a most\nextraordinary noise, and all at once the terrible Alm ghost stood close\nbeside him, and threw himself instantly upon him, like a big butcher\u2019s\ndog, with fiery eyes, and with the fixed intention of tearing his\nvictim to pieces. But the locksmith brought all his gigantic strength\nto bear upon the ghost, and dealt him a blow, which hurled him to a\ndistance; then, after this victory, he laid down again in another\ncorner of the hut, and slept peacefully until daybreak; but from that\nmoment he determined never again to pass the night alone in the hut,\nand so he returned every evening to the valley, carrying his work with\nhim.\n\nHe never recounted one single word to any living soul, except his wife,\nwhom he bound down by the strongest vows never to repeat it to any\nmortal being; but a woman\u2019s confidence is but a stage secret, open to\nthe ears of all who like to listen to it.\n\n\n\n\n_THE SALVE-TOAD._\n\n\nIt is a well-known fact in the Tyrol that the Jordan chapel, which\nstands on the mountain, called Salve, and which is dedicated to St.\nJohn the Baptist, has been founded by a widow, who, out of maternal\nweakness, had been the cause of encouraging her only son in all sorts\nof wickedness, which he carried so far as to become the chief of a band\nof robbers and cut-throats. Too late, the infatuated woman discovered\nthe crime of which she had been guilty, and, in deep repentance, sought\nher son, and, after following him for many days, found him at last on\nthe top of the Hohe Salve.\n\nShe then tried to persuade him to give himself up to justice, but he\nwas obdurate; until one night, in a dream, the ghastly head of St.\nJohn the Baptist appeared to him; after which he gave himself up to\nthe authorities, and his head, with those of all his companions, was\nchopped off. The guilty mother buried all the heads together, on the\ntop of the mountain, sold all she had, and devoted it to the erection\nof the chapel, which is still standing there.\n\nOther people recount this legend in a different manner; they say that\nthe brigand had vowed to make a pilgrimage upon the Hohe Salve, if\nHeaven would only assist him to rid himself of his evil companions,\nand help him to lead again a good life. But, after having obtained the\nassistance of Heaven, the brigand forgot his vow, and for that reason\nhe was compelled after his death to crawl up to the top of the mountain\nin the form of a toad, and to enter into the chapel. After a long\ntime, the poor toad succeeded in climbing the mountain, but at the\nentrance of the chapel there were always people who pushed and kicked\nhim away. At length, however, he succeeded in entering the chapel,\nand crawled three times round the altar, after which he was instantly\nchanged into the form of a handsome man, who addressed the people who\nwere praying there, telling them of his brigand life and hard penance,\nand then he suddenly disappeared from their eyes.\n\n\n\n\n_THE UNHOLDENHOF._\n\n\nIn the days of Maximilian the First, Emperor of Germany, there was a\nforester attached to the Court, who was a real \u201cUnhold\u201d (or monster),\nof almost supernatural bodily strength, and so much so that he was\ngenerally regarded as a giant. After the Emperor\u2019s death, the forester\nleft the Court with his only son, who was in every degree the image of\nhis father, and went into the parish of Kreith, in which, since that\ntime, fourteen peasants have built their farms, which, for the most\npart, are all situated on the Middle Mountain, above the rivers Sill\nand Rutz, between meadows, uplands, and forests. At the bottom of the\nvalley the whirr of a \u201cS\u00e4ge,\u201d _i.e._ a saw-mill, is constantly to be\nheard, which stands on the bridge over the Klausbach, over which the\nroads lead on into the Stubeithal.\n\nThere a beautiful spring, well protected by a statue of the holy\nNepomuk, offers refreshment and rest to the tired traveller, and about\nhalf a mile further on, the road divides into two, and the left-hand\nbranch leads off into a charming mountain-path, on each side of which\nlies a magnificent forest of Alpine firs and pines, and after a quarter\nof an hour\u2019s ascent, one arrives at a rich and thriving farm, which\ncomprises in its possessions an ancient chapel; but with all this it\nbears a very bad name, and is called the \u201cUnholdenhof\u201d (or monster\nfarm).\n\nIt was on this self-same spot that the forester and his son took up\ntheir abode, and they became the dread and abomination of the whole\nsurrounding country, for they practised, partly openly and partly in\nsecret, the most manifold iniquities, so that their nature and bearing\ngrew into something demoniacal. As quarrellers very strong, and as\nenemies dreadfully revengeful, they showed their diabolical nature by\nthe most inhuman deeds, which brought down injury, not only on those\nagainst whom their wrath was directed, but also upon their families for\ncenturies. In the heights of the mountains they turned the beds of the\ntorrents, and devastated by this means the most flourishing tracts of\nland; on other places, the Unholde set on fire whole mountain-forests,\nto allow free room for the avalanches to rush down and overwhelm the\nfarms. Through certain means they cut holes and fissures in the rocks,\nin which, during the summer, quantities of water collected, which froze\nin the winter, and then in the spring the thawing ice split the rocks,\nwhich then rolled down into the valleys, destroying everything before\nthem. Some of these terrific rock-falls prepared by them ensued only\nsome forty or fifty years afterwards.\n\nThrough these iniquitous deeds, they gained the dreaded name of\nUnholde, which has descended to their abode to the present day; but\nat last Heaven\u2019s vengeance reached them. An earthquake threw the\nforester\u2019s house into ruins, wild mountain torrents tore over it, and\nthunderbolts set all around it in a blaze; and by fire and water, with\nwhich they had sinned, father and son perished, and were condemned to\neverlasting torments. Up to the present day, they are to be seen at\nnightfall on the mountain, in the form of two fiery boars.\n\nA better generation has built a new farm upon the same spot on which\nthe old Unholdenhof used to stand; but, against their wish and will,\nthe new house has kept up the old name, which sometimes changes into\nthat of Starkenhof, because the wicked foresters were also called \u201cdie\nStarken\u201d (the strong ones).\n\nThe old peasant Hohlenbauer, who still is living in the village\nof Mutters, can recount to the traveller a great deal about the\nUnholdenhof; and, among other things, he would tell him how one day the\nforester, in his stupidity, sold valuable parchments to a child\u2019s-drum\nmaker of Innsbruck, who, as stupid as he of whom he had bought them,\nerased the writing with a stone, and covered little drums with the\npriceless documents.\n\n\n\n\n_THE FIERY BOAR OF KOHLERSTADL._\n\n\nOn the main road from the village of Mutters to the hamlet of G\u00f6tzens\nlies a brown wooden hut in the middle of a lovely flowery plain, which\nis called the \u201cBroat-Wiese\u201d (broad meadow). The road leads through\ndells and valleys, and in passing through this grand and desolate\nspot, the traveller is unable to overcome a certain sense of awe,\nwhich overhangs this dreaded spot, particularly should he happen to\npass that way after the shades of evening have fallen. The hut is an\nold hay-shed, which has the resemblance of a large dark coffin; close\nto this hut stands a little chapel, erected to the memory of a poor\ntraveller, who was frozen to death on that spot, in the year 1815.\n\nThis place is decried and avoided, on account of the fearful\napparition, which is said to wander round the spot; and many a one\nwho has tried to pass that way during the night has been glad to\nreturn safely back again to the village. Close by lies a dense forest\nof fir-trees, the rendezvous of tribes of ravens, which render the\nsurroundings still more dismal with their ominous croakings. If,\nperchance, the traveller hears the cuckoo, he crosses himself, for it\nbears in the Tyrol the reputation of being the devil\u2019s own bird, and\nthe evil one himself, the worst of the phantoms, rejoices in adopting\nhis voice.\n\nThere has frequently been seen upon the plain, close by the hut, which\nis called the Kohlerstadl, a fiery wild boar, and many people are of\nthe opinion that the old monster of the Unholdenhof, of which has been\nspoken in the preceding legend, wanders about there in that form, while\nothers say that this same fiery boar is a devil\u2019s phantom; and there\nare numberless people who have seen it.\n\nA rich peasant of Natters, whose name is Klaus Sinnis, went up one day\nwith his hay-cart to a meadow-valley, called G\u00f6tzens-Lufens, and as he\npassed by the Kohlerstadl it was already growing dark, and night was\ncoming on very fast. There suddenly the fiery boar rushed before his\nhorses, which began to rear and kick, and he was unable to get them\non one step further, so that he was compelled to return home with his\nempty cart.\n\nA herdsman of G\u00f6tzens was driving his cows home from Mutters, and close\nby the dreaded spot he met the boar, tearing madly round in a circle.\nOn catching sight of this hideous phantom, the cows set up their tails\nand rushed wildly off in every direction, so that most of them fell\ndown the precipices and were lost.\n\nOthers have seen on the same spot black dogs, and heard unearthly\nscreams and howls which have pierced to their very soul.\n\n\n\n\n_THE BUTCHER OF IMST._\n\n\nIt is not very long since that there lived at Imst a butcher, who was\nin the habit of catching other people\u2019s sheep on the mountain, to alter\ntheir marks, and, after leaving them to run for some time among his\nown herd, either killed or sold them alive. This clever dodge succeeded\nvery well for some length of time, but at last the butcher died\nsuddenly, and, after his death, such a terrible ghost was seen several\ntimes in the house, that the family were obliged to move out of it,\nuntil the ghost should be exorcised by the powers of the Holy Church.\n\nThe night-watch of Strad was just calling out the twelfth hour, on a\npitch dark night, when all at once two Capuchins approached on the\nroad, both of whom carried a burning candle, and one of them bore\nunder his arm a massive volume. Between them walked the form of the\ndeceased butcher, clad in black, with the high-crowned hat, which he\nusually wore when alive, pressed tightly down over his eyes, and his\narms crossed before him. The Capuchins signed the night-watch to step\non one side, which, in his terror, he was only too glad to do. Then\nhe saw them all three pass through the village of Strad, and take the\npost-road to Nassereit, as far as the inn, called \u2018Zum D\u00f6llinger,\u2019 into\nwhich, however, they did not enter, but turned over the Gurglthal,\ntowards a klamm, or chasm, through which rushes from the lofty\nAndelsberg the torrent of Klammbach.\n\nTo that spot numbers of ghosts from the neighbourhood of Imst have been\nconsigned, and frequently during the stillness of night are heard the\ndreadful cries of \u201cHelp us. Hoi--hoiiih!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_MATZ-LAUTER, THE SORCERER OF BRIXEN._\n\n\nMatthias Lauter, generally known under the name of \u201cMatz-Lauter,\u201d was\nborn at Brixen, and used to live on a mountain, near Latzfons. He was\neverywhere dreaded, for his sorceries surpassed the power of any other\nman to excel. There are still many people living in the neighbourhood\nwho knew him, and can tell many curious things concerning him. Matz\nused to wander about all the country through, because he could never\nfind rest anywhere, and constantly visited the huts of the peasants,\nwho willingly gave him all he asked for, to rid themselves of his\ncompany; and sometimes, out of thanks, he showed them a few of his\ntricks.\n\nOne day, in the common room of a farm belonging to a well-to-do\npeasant, he made in each of the four corners a different sort of\nweather at the same moment. In one corner the sun shone, in the second\nit was dark, and the wind was whistling gloomily; in the third, soft\nwarm rain was falling; and in the fourth, a terrific storm of thunder,\nlightning, and hail was going on. At another time, he forced fowls,\nwhich were on the opposite side of the Eisach valley, to fly over\nto him and lay eggs at his feet, of which he made a present to the\nfarm-people who had been kind to him.\n\nIt was generally believed that his art came from the devil, which,\nhowever, has been contradicted by the fact that he tormented and dared\nthe old gentleman far more than any one had ever done before, and it\nis recounted as perfectly certain that once he forced him to clear\na way through a forest, through which it was impossible for even a\ngoat to pass, and with such rapidity that he could ride behind on a\nfast-galloping horse. Another time he forced his Satanic Majesty to\ncatch an enormous mountain oak, which he pitched down to him from a\nheight of four thousand feet.\n\nMatz-Lauter was also much dreaded as a weather-maker, and often boasted\nthat hating mankind, he took pleasure in harming them; and he confessed\nthat only the ringing of consecrated bells had any control over his\npower, and if round about there had not been the bells of the chapel of\nSt. Anton, near Feldthurns, those of the church of Laien, the enormous\nclock of the chapel of Latzfons, and the shrill sounds of the belfry\nof the chapel of St. Peter, a little pilgrimage about two miles from\nLatzfons, and a mile or so from his own hut, he would long since have\nreversed the huge mountain, which stands over the village of Latzfons,\nand buried in its ruins all who lived on or beneath it.\n\nOne day Matz-Lauter was found by some huntsman dead on the mountain,\nand directly the news spread, every one wanted to climb up and see\nhis body; but it had disappeared, and even now every peasant of the\nneighbourhood is certain that the devil carried off the body of the\nsorcerer, after having first claimed his soul.\n\n\n\n\n_THE MOUNTAIN GHOST OF THE VIVANNA._\n\n\nAbout six miles from Graun, above the Endkopf, in the dominions of the\nFrauenpleiss, which ancient legends report as the residence of several\nfairies, lies the Grauner-Alp, which is also called the Vivanna, and\nwhich belongs to the parish of Graun. Jacob Wolf, a huntsman of Graun,\nordinarily called \u201cKob,\u201d started one evening, towards the close of the\nautumn, on a hunting excursion, and climbed up the Vivanna, intending\nthere to pass the night, so that he might be ready to follow the game\nat an early hour on the following morning. He entered the hut which\nstands upon the Alp, and after having laid down upon a bundle of dry\ngrass for his night\u2019s rest, he heard the door slowly open, and a little\nold shrunken woman entered, whose attire was very like that of a\nSennin, and who seemed to be quite at home there. She lighted a fire,\ntook cream and flour from a little hole in the wall, and set to work to\nmake cakes. As soon as she had finished them, she called out, \u201cNow we\nare going to eat, and the one down yonder on the grass must be of the\nparty too.\u201d\n\nThe huntsman was quite frightened and dared not move, but as the little\nwoman called out a second time with her shrill voice, which sounded\nalmost like a command, he picked up his courage, and approached the\nspot where the old hag was standing. But, oh, terror! at that moment,\nin the midst of a most fearful noise, there all at once entered through\nthe door a whole tribe of spitting, growling, and miauling cats, pigs\nand bucks, besides every description of other wild beasts.\n\nThe huntsman sprang quickly back into his corner, seized his rifle,\nwhich he had fortunately charged with a crossed bullet, and fired right\ninto the middle of the devil\u2019s army, which was entirely dispersed in\none moment. No more was either to be seen of the old hag, and her cakes\nstood burning before the fire, and smelling of all sorts of fearful\nabominations. The huntsman fled from the spot as quickly as ever he\ncould, and rushed down into the valley, giving up all idea of his\nhunting excursion. But in the morning he found out that, in his hasty\nretreat, he had left his hunting-sack behind; and so he set off in\nbroad daylight, accompanied by another man, to the scene of his fearful\nadventure, where they found the sack, with all its contents, bitten and\ntorn to pieces. When recounting this story, Kob always used to say,\n\u201cThe hell company would have served me the same trick, had I not run\noff as quickly as I did.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE OBERLEITNER OF TERENTEN._\n\n\nAt Terenten, in the Pusterthal, lies a farm which is called the\nOberleitner Hof, and its proprietor, who died about twenty years ago,\nwas known in all the surrounding mountains under the name of \u201cthe Old\nOberleitner.\u201d\n\nThis old man was a master of the black art, as well as a great\nhuntsman, who delighted in going over the mountains to the wild rocky\nvalley of the Stillupp and Floiten, in pursuit of stone bucks, of which\nhe killed numbers; and he had indeed carried his infatuation so far\nthat there is not one now to be seen in the whole neighbourhood.\n\nOne day he was out with a fellow-huntsman, quite on the top of the\nmountain, and all at once he said to him, \u201cLook there, my wife is just\npreparing the dinner, and as she is not in a good temper to-day we must\ntry and be home in time, or else we shall catch a scolding.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how can that be possible,\u201d answered the other, \u201csince we have more\nthan a day and a half\u2019s journey before we can reach home?\u201d\n\n\u201cNever mind that,\u201d replied the Oberleitner; and as the housewife served\nthe dinner, the two huntsmen entered the room at the same moment as all\nthe farm people. Of course, this never happened in a natural way; but\nhow it came to pass no one can say. Though everybody of the district\nbelieves firmly that it was an example of Oberleitner\u2019s ability.\n\nUpon one of the farm-buildings of the Oberleitner Hof is still to\nbe seen, up to the present day, an old roughly-painted picture,\nwhich represents an incident in the life of the former proprietor of\nthe farm. Oberleitner was working in an adjoining field, when he\ncaught sight of several fine stags on the distant Alp, called the\nEidechsspitze. He ordered his servant to run home and fetch his rifle,\nbut the man laughingly replied, \u201cThey will have time to run away a\nhundred times before you can reach them.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d said the Oberleitner, \u201cI have fixed them there surely enough.\u201d\nAnd, in fact, there they remained upon the same spot until he arrived\non the top of the mountain, where he quietly shot them all down, one\nafter the other.\n\n\n\n\n_THE TAILOR OF THE ZIROCKALM._\n\n\nFor centuries past it has been the custom that on the Brenner Alp a\ntailor should live, for the purpose of mending the clothes of the\nteamsters who pass along that deserted road, on their way to or from\nItaly. Not long since, one of these men who occupied the hut left it\nto go and set up business in the inn, called \u2018Sch\u00f6llerwirthshaus,\u2019\nabout three miles distant from the Brenner post-house. When not\notherwise employed, he occupied his time in rolling heavy stones down\ninto the valley below, knocking to pieces the carts of the teamsters,\nand killing the horses or men, so that the poor fellows were generally\nforced to stop at the inn, and when on their arrival, they complained\nor lamented about their misfortune, the tailor sympathized with them,\nwhile taking the occasion to cheat them the more in selling them bad\ncloth, instead of good, and at much higher prices than were to be\nhad at Brixen or Stertzing, saying that the higher they went up the\nmountain, the shorter was the wood, as they could see on the trees, and\nso it was the same with his tailor\u2019s yard.\n\nThis tailor died suddenly, and, as penance for his crimes, he was\nobliged to walk in ghostly form between the Brenner post-house and\nthe Sch\u00f6llerwirthshaus, and even as far down as Gossensass, where he\npractised many a cruel trick, and still made stones roll down upon the\nroad. At last the harm he did was so great that the teamsters found\nthemselves forced to apply to some Capuchins of Stertzing to banish the\nghost. The Capuchins ascended the mountain, and banished him for the\nwinter to the Zirock Alp, while for the summer they consigned him to\nthe mountain called H\u00fchnerspielspitze, which is plainly visible from\nStertzing, and from whose peak he often cries so loudly that he is to\nbe heard in the whole valley down below, \u201cAh! is then the last day not\nyet near? Ah! if only the last day would soon arrive.\u201d\n\nThe ghost is forced to roll a great number of stones down into the\nvalley, and every one of those stones he is obliged to carry up again\non his shoulders. One day an old herdsman placed upon one of these\nstones a stick, upon which he had cut a cross, and when the ghost found\nit he threw it on one side and rolled the stone on. When the herdsman\nfound his stick again, several days afterwards, there were five\nfinger-marks burned into it.\n\n\n\n\n_THE THREE SISTERS OF FRASTANZ._\n\n\nTo the east of Frastanz, upon the boundaries of Feldkirch, lies a\nchain of mountains, leading southwards towards the principality of\nLichtenstein, out of which range rise three lofty bare grey jagged\nmountain peaks, which form the boundary marks of the country, and bear\nthe name of \u201cthe Three Sisters,\u201d to which are joined the Frastanz Alps.\n\nTowards the end of the last century, a Venediger-Manndl used to come\nevery year into that country, for the purpose of picking up gold, of\nwhich large quantities were to be found, especially in the forest\nvalley of Samina, which is situated between the Three Sisters and\nthe Ziegerberg. The Manndl used to fly through the air from Venice,\ncarrying a large jar, which he put under a mountain spring, which\nthrew up gold grains from a subterranean river, and when the jar was\nfull he flew off with it home again. As a proof, he once showed the\njar full of gold to some herdsmen, who were pasturing their cows\nin the neighbourhood; but they would not be taken in, and so they\ncrossed themselves and let the Venetian go, for they knew that he was a\nsorcerer, who practised his arts through supernatural power, like all\nVenediger-Manndl used to do.\n\nAt that time, there lived at Frastanz three sisters, who upon a great\n_f\u00eate_ day, instead of going to mass, set out very early in the morning\nto climb the mountain, for the purpose of gathering strawberries,\nwhich grew there in quantities, with the intention of selling them\nin the afternoon at Feldkirch. Upon the mountain they met the\nVenediger-Manndl, who indignantly and furiously asked them, \u201cWhat are\nyou doing here to-day?\u201d The girls were terrified, for their consciences\nreproached them for having neglected their duty on such a great _f\u00eate_\nday, for the sake of gaining a little money, and they answered,\n\u201cNothing, nothing.\u201d Then the sorcerer replied, with a voice towering\nwith passion, \u201cWell, then, you shall turn into nothing, nothing but\nbare rocks, without grass or leaf, without tree or fruit, and beneath\nyou shall be hidden my golden wealth, which no mortal being shall ever\nsucceed in finding.\u201d At the same moment the three girls were turned\ninto stone, for the sorcerer, in gaining power over them by their\ncrime, redeemed himself, and delivered them in his stead to the evil\none.\n\nThere still stand the Three Sisters, touching the clouds as three\nmountain peaks; but the Venetian has never been seen again, and his\nwealth-stream is said to have been dried up. The Three Sisters look\nsolemnly down upon the upper part of the valley, called Rheinthal, upon\nVaduz, and the country of Lichtenstein.\n\n\n\n\n_THE ROSE GARDEN OF KING LAURIN._\n\n\nThe beautiful and charming surroundings of the village of Algund and\nthe castle of Tirol, which stands above it, are still called the \u201cRose\nGarden of King Laurin.\u201d\n\nLaurin was the name of a King of the dwarfs; he was old and wise, as\nwell as mild and kind, and he had a daughter, who was as amiable\nand beautiful as a fairy, or \u201cSalige.\u201d This lovely Princess wished\nto have a garden, and begged her father to give her some ground in\nthe light of the sun, for the King lived in a crystal castle, deep in\nthe interior of the mountain, which crowns the old castle of Tirol.\nThe good father granted his daughter\u2019s wish, who now set to work to\nexterminate all weeds and evil plants from the plain which her father\nhad given her, and planted it with all sorts of rose-trees. In this\nmanner her Rosen-Garten became so beautiful, that up to the present day\nits aspect renders the weary traveller happy, and causes him to forget\nfor the time all pains and griefs, should he have any. So that every\none might enjoy the beauties of her garden, she would not have walls,\nbut surrounded it with gold tissue ribbons.\n\nWhen and how this peaceful and joyous reign came to an end, the legend\ndoes not say; but the neighbourhood still remains a \u201cGottesgarten\u201d (or\nparadise), although King Laurin and his beautiful daughter are no more\nto be seen; only the indisputable fact of their former existence lives\nfresh and green in the memory of all inhabitants of the surrounding\ncountry. Close to the village of Tirol, a dwarf is said to be still\nresiding, whose comic name is Burzinigala, or Burzinigele. Another\nresides upon the mountain called Mutkopf, behind the same village,\nwho chants in moonlight nights the following song to his native\nmeadows:--\u201cI am so grey, I am so old, that I remember thee three times\nas meadow-land, and three times as forest.\u201d[3]\n\n[3] \u201cI bin so grau,\n     I bin so alt,\n     Denk di dreimal als Wies\u2019,\n     Und dreimal als Wald!\u201d\n\nSome people say that King Laurin on leaving his castle went to fight\nagainst giants and dwarfs in the country from Tirol\u2019s Rosengarten,\ndown to the charming Lago del Gardo, and towards Verona, where he was\nultimately baptized, and became a Christian.\n\n\n\n\n_THE PETRIFIED LOVERS OF KRAMSACH._\n\n\nNear Kramsach, in the Under-Inn valley, on the spot where the\nBrandenberg Achenthal commences, lie on the Middle Mountain some small\nlakes, and above the farms called M\u00f6sern and Freundsheim, about three\nmiles above Kramsach, stands another beautiful lake, close beneath the\nMooswand mountain, and above the lake is still to be seen the ruin of\nan old stronghold, called the Gruckenb\u00fchl. The daughter of the last\nBaron who resided there was passionately fond of a poor forester, and\nwhen the proud and cruel Baron came to hear of the secret rendezvous\nbetween his daughter and the huntsman, he ordered him, one pitch-dark\nnight, to be chased out of the castle by the hounds, and, in the hurry\nof the flight, the poor fellow fell over a rock into the See, and was\ndrowned.\n\nAfter this act of cruelty and injustice, the poor girl wandered about\nsilent and abstracted, and would neither enter into any amusement,\nnor take part in any ordinary pursuit of life. One day she went with\nher maid down to the lake, and, as she looked into its gloomy depths,\nshe saw the dead body of her lover, and, in the frenzy of grief, she\nthrew herself down into the water. The maid ran home recounting this\nmisfortune, and when the wicked Baron, with all his retinue, arrived on\nthe borders of the lake, neither the body of his poor daughter nor that\nof the forester were to be found. The two lovers had been changed into\nrocks, both of which rise out of the lake, like little islands; the one\novergrown with ferns and water weeds, and the other bare as a polished\npiece of granite.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GOLD-SEEKER OF THE TENDRES FARM._\n\n\nBetween Reshen and Nauders lies the Tendres Farm, and the old farmer,\nwho is still living there, recounts the following tale:--\n\n\u201cIn my younger days a Venediger-Manndl used to arrive here every year\ntowards the autumn, dressed in dreadfully ragged black clothes, just\nlike a beggar, who always passed the night in my farm, and left on the\nfollowing morning in the direction of the Green Lake, towards the Swiss\nfrontier, and returned here again in the evening.\n\n\u201cAs I could never comprehend what the little beggar was doing here\nevery year, and as in the same day he could neither reach huts nor\nfarms, where he could get something by begging, I followed him one day,\nand found him on the borders of the Green Lake, close to a fountain,\nbusily occupied in taking sand out of a wooden trough, into which the\nspring was running, and putting it into his sack.\n\n\u201cI thought to myself, \u2018Wait, my little fellow, I will lighten that work\nfor you, and empty the trough before you return again; if the sand is\nof some value, I also can make some use of it, and if it were of no\nvalue, you certainly would never come here from so far to fetch it.\u2019 In\nthe following year, towards the autumn, I went to the spring, removed\nthe stone slab from the trough, and found it full of gold sand, which\nwas very heavy. I set off with it directly to Venice, to offer it for\nsale to a rich merchant, who was astonished at the sight of the sand;\nand said, \u2018Oh! you rich man, I have not money enough to buy all that\ngold; but go down into that street, and you will find a large house\nshut up; knock at the door, and the richest man of Venice will let you\nin, and buy the treasure of you.\u2019\n\n\u201cAs I approached the house, a distant voice shouted to me out of one\nof the windows, \u2018Tendres Farmer, bring here your gold.\u2019 I could not\nmake out who could know me, far as I was from my own country, and, as\nI entered the palace, I was dazzled with the magnificence and riches\nwhich everywhere met my eyes. In a splendid chamber, on an armchair\nof pure gold, was sitting the little beggar, who had so often passed\nthe night in my farm. He arose as I entered, and, shaking his finger\nmenacingly at me, said, \u2018You have not acted honestly in clearing out my\ntrough; but, since you have so often sheltered and fed me, I will give\nyou a day\u2019s pay for the gold, which is my own.\u2019 Then he gave me a gold\ncoin for each day I had been on my journey, after which he held a glass\nbefore my eyes, in which I saw Tendres, my wife and children working\nin the field; in one word, everything as clearly as though I was myself\nstanding in the farm. Then he turned the glass, and I saw the well on\nthe Green Lake with the gold trough, and, after having passed his hand\nover the glass, he said, \u2018Now go home, and you will never again find\nfountain or trough.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd so it happened indeed, for when I reached home, and went down to\nthe Green Lake, it was impossible for me to discover one single trace\nof the Gold Spring.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE FAIRY OF THE SONNENWENDJOCH._\n\n\nAt the foot of the gigantic mountain peak on which stands the\nSonnenwendjoch, a chalk Alp, over 8000 feet high, stand the hamlets of\nBrixlegg, Mehrn, and Zimmermoos, upon a lovely plain, from which the\nAchen rushes down into the valley, and works the lead, silver, and tin\nfoundries, which are the most important of the whole Tyrol. On that\nspot a fairy used to reside.\n\nClose by lies the little town of Rattenberg, above which used to stand\na magnificent stronghold, of which there are now but a few picturesque\nruins to be seen. One day the young Baron of the little castle of Mehrn\nwent hunting upon the charming green mountain side, and as in the\npursuit of his game he had approached the Sonnenwendjoch, he caught\nsight of the fairy of the mountain. To see her and fall deeply in love\nwith her was the work of a moment, and the fairy also returned his\naffection, for the handsome young Baron pleased her. The fairy, who was\na guardian of Alpine animals, ordered the youth never to pursue one of\nthem again if he wished her to take any notice of him. Then she led\nhim into her dominions, in which there were endless magnificent things\nto be seen--gardens of never-fading flowers; deep, clear fountains;\nmeadows, upon which animals were peacefully browsing; and grottoes\nsupported by crystal columns, and whose roofs and walls were like\nmirrors. They then became engaged, and the Baron received from the\nfairy a ring as gage of her favour\n\nAfter that he often went out under the pretence of hunting, but never\nbrought home any game; at which every one was astonished, because he\nwas noted as a good shot and clever huntsman, and had already killed\nmany bears and boars with his dagger alone. Every one was surprised,\ntoo, to see that he avoided all the surrounding castles, and seemed to\nhave made up his mind to remain unmarried. Meanwhile, it happened that\nin the castle of Rattenberg a wedding took place, to which the lord\nalso invited his friend the Baron of Mehrn; and, as it was impossible\nfor him to decline this invitation, he attended the wedding to his\ngreat grief, for there he met a young lady of Innsbruck who entangled\nhim in her toils, and pleased him so much that he gave her the fairy\u2019s\nring which she had noticed glittering on his finger.\n\nOvercome by shame and remorse at his infidelity, he went on the\nfollowing morning to the Sonnenwendjoch, where he saw a white doe\nbounding before him. At that sight the old love of hunting awoke\nin him, and he pursued the animal to a well-known spot, where, by\nknocking with his ring, a door in the rock sprang open which led to\nthe entrance of the fairy\u2019s empire. There the youth stood rooted to\nthe ground with terror, for he had not the ring; and suddenly the fairy\nherself appeared before him, dignified and haughty, not in anger, but\nin deep grief. She held the ring in her delicate hand, and said in a\nlow sad voice: \u201cYou are unfaithful. You have sworn always to think\nbut of me; never to give my ring to another; never to pursue one of\nmy animals, and you have thrice broken your oath. Farewell!\u201d--and in\nsaying so she disappeared from before his eyes.\n\nThe Baron had scarcely left the spot when a huge rock rolled down the\nmountain with the noise of thunder and covered a large portion of the\nvalley with its _d\u00e9bris_. After that the young man became sad and\ndejected and left the country, and people say that he went to the Holy\nLand, from which he has never returned.\n\n\n\n\n_THE FIREMAN PIGERP\u00dcTZ._\n\n\nAt the foot of the Isch\u00fcrgant mountain, near Imsh, stands a stone\nhut, called the Hirnhutte, because it had been erected by a former\nwood merchant whose name was Hirn, as a resting-place for his woodmen\nwhen he was felling timber on the banks of the torrent Pigersbach.\nThis place is regarded with horror on account of a terrible shade\nwhich wanders from the Pigersbach upwards through an immense forest of\ngigantic oaks, and then passes over Strad up to the dense forest of\nfirs which lies beyond.\n\nThis apparition, which is generally called the Pigerp\u00fctz, appears as a\nheadless black form, or tears through the air in the shape of a flame\nwhich is sometimes larger and sometimes smaller, sometimes lighter\nand sometimes darker, and which often has been seen to rise above the\nground expanding as it goes to the height of sixty feet and more.\n\nIn the year 1849 it happened that four peasants set out during the\nnight from Imst to Tarenz, and as they walked along the Pigersbach\nwhich flowed on their right through mossy plains, they saw a brilliant\nflame floating across their path. \u201cThere goes the Pigerp\u00fctz,\u201d said one\nof the men, and the others who were a little hot from the wine which\nthey had taken at Imst, began to laugh and sneer at him; but they had\nscarcely done so ere the flame rushed upon them, and as they saw this\nthe three tipsy men ran off as fast as their legs could carry them, but\nthe one who had first seen and spoken of the Pigerp\u00fctz stood firmly on\nthe spot. He was the peasant banker of Tarenz, who is still alive and\nrecounts his adventure thus:--\n\n\u201cI stood firm and let him approach, and, by my soul, he really came on\nand grew to the size of a haystack as he approached. Then I said to\nhim: \u2018I shall never help you; for if you had led a better life, and not\ncommitted so many crimes, you would not now be obliged to wander about\nin this form. Now off with you!\u2019 And then, by my soul, he really fled\naway over the Pigersbach.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE PILLER-SEE._\n\n\nWhere the lovely Piller-See now lies, with its green rippling waters\nabout one and a half miles long by three-quarters wide, close to the\nvillage of St. Ulrich, there used to stand one of the most beautiful\nand most fertile Alps of the whole Tyrol, belonging formerly to several\npeasants, who pastured large herds of animals upon it. They were rich\nin cows, and grass, and had their beautiful Alp besides to depend upon;\nso they were the happiest and wealthiest peasants in all the world. But\ninstead of being grateful to Heaven for all its blessings, they became\nvain, thinking only of amusement and dancing, and every Sunday and\nf\u00eate-day they passed in all sorts of frivolous pleasures. The Alp soon\nassumed the appearance of a heathen garden, and all those who paid no\nregard to the opinion of the world flocked there to enjoy their guilty\npleasure.\n\nThe dissolute villagers wanting one day to play at their favourite\ngame of nine-pins, and having neither balls nor pins, seized upon\nthe beautiful alpine which they found in a farm close by, ready for\nthe morrow\u2019s market, and turned it to the purposes of their game;\nbut suddenly the shed in which they were amusing themselves began to\ngive way, and all the surrounding ground, together with the adjacent\nmountains, sank beneath their feet. Upon whatever spot they trod the\nearth slipped from under them, and out of the earth water sprang, and\nevery one of them was drowned in the new-formed lake. Only a musician\nwho had been forced against his will to climb the Alp and play to them\nwas saved, for, sitting on his chair, he was driven to the borders of\nthe lake by the swelling current.\n\nThis lake is now called the \u201cPiller-See,\u201d which in certain places is\nfathomless. One day some people tried to measure its depth, when they\nheard a hollow voice proceeding from the bottom of the See, calling\nout:--\n\n  \u201cIf you fathom me, I swallow you.\u201d[4]\n\n  [4] Ergr\u00fcndest Du mich,\n      So verschling\u2019 ich Dich.\n\nThis, like many other of the Tyrolian lakes, is supposed to have\nthe power of dragging into its fathomless depths all those who are\nunfortunate enough to fall asleep on its fatal shores.\n\n\n\n\n_THE BURNING PINES._\n\n\nA poor widow of Rattenberg, who was blessed with a large family, had\nbeen, through endless misfortunes, reduced to such a pitch of poverty\nthat she only had left of all her possessions a small wood in the\nvalley of Scheibenthal, which is close to Rattenberg. A wicked-hearted\nwretch took advantage of her troubles to try and prove that the wood\nwas his own property, and by means of false witnesses and many failures\nof justice matters were driven so far that the unfortunate widow had to\ngive up the wood, and died of grief soon afterwards. The children were\ntaken care of by good neighbours, and when they were strong enough they\nwere obliged to go out to service, and soon no more was heard of the\nmatter.\n\nEverything would have been forgotten had there not been One in whose\nremembrance all lives; and up to the present day the crime of the\nforest thief is constantly recalled through the circumstance that\nburning trunks often roll down through the wood, sending sparks in all\ndirections, sometimes assuming the terrific appearance of a forest\nfire. But this dreadful phenomenon is ascribed to the fact that the\nwicked man, with his vile companions who had robbed the poor widow of\nher wood, have been condemned to burn in the forest which they stole,\nunder the form of fiery pines, and roll in their agony through the\nforest, vainly seeking to release themselves from their everlasting\npunishment.\n\n\n\n\nTHE JAUFEN-FAIRY\n\n\nUnder the summit of the Jaufen, a mountain in Passeier, about 8000\nfeet high, used to reside a fairy who fell passionately in love with\na young Baron of the castle of Jaufenburg, which lies at the foot of\nthe aforesaid mountain, and was formerly the residence of the lords\nof Passeier. But whether the heart of the Baron was no longer free,\nor whether the fairy\u2019s love frightened him, cannot be said; but he\nnever responded to the attention of his fairy admirer, who took his\ncoolness so much to heart that she pined away and transformed herself\ninto a beggar woman, in which form she wandered along all the lanes and\npasses through which the Baron generally took his way, the image of\ninjury and grief. One day she hid herself in a chalk-burner\u2019s hut at\nwhich the Baron often stopped, as the man had been his former servant.\nWhen the young nobleman arrived and asked for a draught of water, the\ntransformed fairy brought it to him after having dropped a pearl into\nthe glass. While the Baron drank, the fairy assumed her real form, and\nnow she appeared to him most beautiful, for the pearl had bewitched the\nwater so that it coursed through his whole frame like fire, inspiring\nhim with a never-before-felt sensation. The beautiful cup-server who\nstood before him seemed the acme of his ideal. He set her before him on\nhis charger and galloped off to the Jaufenburg.\n\nBut a wonderful thing came to pass; his beautiful bride suddenly\ndisappeared from his side, and he could not imagine where she had gone.\nHe rode day and night and never reached his castle. The poor exhausted\ncharger at last fell beneath the weight of his infatuated master, and\ndied. Then the Baron sought his home on foot, but without avail; he\nfound himself in a strange country where he knew nobody and nobody knew\nhim. He became so poor that he was obliged to sell his rich attire, and\nat last was forced to beg his way through the country. Miserable, weak,\nand ill, he reached one evening the hut of the smith in the Kalmthal,\nwhere, half dead with hunger and exposure, he fell down upon a heap of\nstraw.\n\nThe fairy now saw good to bring to an end the hard penance which she\nhad imposed upon him for his first slighting of her. She appeared to\nhim again in all her grace and splendour. All his magnificent attire\nwas restored to him; his charger stood waiting for him at the door of\nthe hut, and all the hardship through which he had passed appeared\nto him but as a dreadful dream. He now conducted his fairy bride\nback to the Jaufenburg, united himself to her for ever, and lived\nhappy and blessed, though without any heir. After his death the fairy\ndisappeared, and the Jaufenburg descended by marriage to the family Von\nFuchs, and, later on, the beautiful castle fell into the hands of a\nrich peasant and crumbled to ruins under his keeping.\n\n\n\n\n_THE WETTER-SEE._\n\n\nClose beneath the mountain Gerlos, in the Zillerthal, lies the\n\u201cWetter-See\u201d (weather-lake), into which no one dares to throw a stone,\nand it is not advisable for even a stranger to do so, or he would find\nhimself involved in great trouble from the surrounding mountaineers,\namong whom still exists the firm belief, which has been corroborated by\nhundreds of examples, that directly a stone has been thrown into the\nlake fearful thunderstorms arise, accompanied by devastating hail and\nwind.\n\nThe See lies in a desolate basin on the heights of the mountains, and\nevery one who is shown the lake hears from his guide, or any cowherd,\nthe following legend: A shepherd arrived one day on the borders of\nthe See, where he saw a huge golden chain lying, the other end of\nwhich remained in the water. Just as he stooped to grasp it he saw,\nglittering on the other side of the lake, one of much larger size, so\nhe left the first to go and take the other; but as he approached it\nand was about to put his hand upon it, both chains disappeared under\nthe water, while the poor fellow stood stupefied with amazement on the\nshore.\n\nPeople say that \u201cthe herdsman was too avaricious; for, had he been\ncontent with the one chain which was within his grasp, he would never\nhave lost them both.\u201d As the chains are said to appear from time to\ntime, people are still on the look-out for them, because they are of\nsuch enormous length that he who finds one of them would be rich during\nall his days.\n\n\n\n\n_THE COURAGEOUS SERVANT GIRL OF THE ZOTTA-FARM._\n\n\nIn the Wattenserthal, which is about twenty miles in length, and where\nat its end the Hochlizum Alp stands, lies on the right of the mountain\nthe beautiful Wotz Mountain, belonging to the farmer of Zotta-Hof,\nwhich stands at its foot. Upon that mountain, during the winter time,\na \u201cKaser-Manndl\u201d (a sort of ghost) is said to reside. This spirit\ninhabits a hut which is situated on the top of the mountain, from\nwhence he makes a terrific noise, which is heard for miles around;\nbut towards Christmas he becomes more quiet and goes off again in the\nspring. Before his departure a blackbird sings during many days, from a\npine which stands on the mountain, so beautifully that one could listen\nto her for hours together.\n\nNow it happened that in the house of the Zotta peasant a poor servant\ngirl was employed whose mother was very ill. As Christmas Day\napproached she had to clean up the whole house, and on the Eve the\nfarmer divided the Christmas-cake between his family and servants;\nand while he enjoyed his portion in company with his friends and\nneighbours, one of them asked: \u201cWhat is the Kaser-Manndl about to-day?\nI wonder whether he is f\u00eating Christmas as well?\u201d The farmer, who\nhad been drinking considerably, shouted in good humour: \u201cI will give\nthe best cow out of my herd to whomever has the courage to go up the\nmountain to-night and find out what the Kaser-Manndl is doing, and\nbrings me back in proof his milking-bucket and foot-warmer.\u201d\n\nBut all heard this proposition in silence, for none of them dared risk\nso much danger to gain the cow, because the Kaser-Manndl was noted for\nhis ferocity, and many a one had returned from his neighbourhood with\na head almost smashed to pieces. But the poor servant girl collected\nher courage and thought to herself: \u201cI will undertake it in God\u2019s name.\nShould I gain the cow, I shall be able to help my poor sick mother,\nand as I have not the intention of going out of curiosity, Heaven will\nprotect me.\u201d So she agreed with the Zotta farmer, and set off up the\nAlp, which is a constant ascent of six miles, battling with bitter\nwind and snow as she went.\n\nFar above her she saw the Kaser, or hut, brilliantly lighted.\nEverything in it was clean to perfection, and the Kaser-Manndl was\nsitting in his Sunday clothes at the hearth, his nose-warmer smoked in\nhis mouth, and he was cooking in a pan a coal-black meal. On entering\nthe hut the girl made as fine a curtsey as a peasant girl is able to\ndo, and the Manndl signed to her to approach the fire and join him at\nhis supper; but the girl was terrified at the sight of the compound,\nand when the Manndl noticed this he said, \u201cDo not be frightened, girl;\nmake only a \u2018Krizl Krazl\u2019 (a sign of the Cross) over the pan.\u201d The girl\ndid this, and to her great astonishment the pan became full of the most\nbeautiful cakes, which they both set to work to eat.\n\nAfter a little while the Kaser-Manndl said, \u201cI know the request\nyou wish to ask. You have come to carry off my milking-bucket and\nfoot-warmer. You shall have them without the asking, for you are a\nbrave girl, and when you arrive at the farm you will claim of the\npeasant his cow together with the calf as punishment for having allowed\nyou to come up in such fearful weather.\u201d\n\nThe Zotta peasant was just setting out for the midnight mass as his\nservant returned from the Alp with her proofs, and when she claimed the\ncow he called her a stupid fool for having gone up the Alp and taken\nhis joke as reality, and he would not give her one _pfennig_, much less\nthe cow.\n\nOn the following morning there was a grievous Christmas-gift at the\nZotta-Hof: the Robblerin, the finest cow, lay dead in the stable, and\nthe farmer nearly tore off all his hair with grief, for this cow had\nbeen his favourite and had carried the first prize at every show, for\nwhich reason he had given her the name of \u201cRobblerin,\u201d or champion.\n\u201cHad you given the cow to me,\u201d said the poor injured girl to her\nmaster, \u201cshe would not have died. Will you now keep your word and give\nme another?\u201d But the farmer savagely refused this demand.\n\nOn the following morning they found that another beautiful cow, named\n\u201cMaierin,\u201d had strangled herself with her chain. On the next day a\nthird cow was found dead, and only now the peasant\u2019s hard heart began\nto melt, for he was fearful lest he might lose his whole herd, and\ntherefore he gave the finest remaining cow to the girl, who directly\ndrove her off home; and from that moment poverty came to an end in the\nhouse of the courageous servant girl, who prayed day and night for the\nredemption of the Kaser-Manndl of the Wotz-Alm.\n\n\n\n\n_THE KLAUSENMANN ON THE KUMMER-SEE._\n\n\nIn the Hinder Passeier lies the village of Moos, about which, on\naccount of the frequent accidents that there take place by people\nfalling over the adjacent precipice, the following saying is common in\nthe Tyrol: \u201cAt Moos even cats and vultures break their necks.\u201d[5]\n\n[5] Zu Moos zerschellen selbst die Katzen und Geier.\n\nIn 1401 a part of the mountain standing about a mile from the village\nfell down into the valley, buried the farm called Erlhof under its\n_d\u00e9bris_, and caused the water running through the valley to collect\nand form a large \u201csee,\u201d or lake, which through its inundations created\nso much _Kummer_ or grief in the valley that it received from the\ninhabitants the name of \u201cKummer-See\u201d (Lake of grief).\n\nThe legend goes that after the mountain by the will of God had been\ncloven, and the Kummer-See formed by the power of the Evil One, a\n\u201cKlausenmann,\u201d or sluiceman, was set there to look after the lake, and\nwarn the neighbours in time, were it impossible to let the water off.\nBut for this work a pious man was needed, whose prayers alone would\nkeep the swelling waters within bounds; for the devil used to bathe in\nthe lake, and made such a fearful noise that he could be heard even\nas far down as Moos. The villagers made frequent pilgrimages for the\npurpose of being preserved from the calamities caused by this dreaded\nSee; but as after a time they omitted this practice, the most fearful\ninundations ensued, leaving everywhere behind them ruin and desolation.\n\nThe Klausenmann, too, became so corrupted that he forgot all his\nreligious duties, never went to church, and always worked on Sundays\nand f\u00eate-days; so the Demon of Evil once more gained power and\nthere was another terrific inundation which transformed the whole\nPasseier-Thal into a vast ocean, entered into the Etsch-Thal, and\ndestroyed a great part of the village of Meran. In this flood the\nwicked Klausenmann perished, and after his death his wretched spirit\nwas consigned to wander about on the shores of the See, which has since\ndried up, and in its place now stands a desolate swamp.\n\nThe modern traveller meets on his road round the former site of the\nSee, a rock called z\u2019 Gsteig, upon which pious hands have erected a\nchapel. There, as evening falls, fearful groans are often to be heard,\nwhile the terrible shade of the Klausenmann rushes by the sacred spot.\n\n\n\n\n_THE VILLAGE ON THE BODEN-ALP._\n\n\nAfter traversing the valley of the Almajur, which sends its waters into\nthe river Lech, one arrives at the Boden-Alp, which, together with\nthe mountain called Almajur, belongs to the village of Stanz. Upon the\nAlmplace of the Boden used to stand in days gone by a beautiful village\nwhich had become, through the neighbouring silver mines belonging to\nit, immensely rich. The inhabitants in course of time grew so luxurious\nthat they did not know what to do with their wealth, and it came into\ntheir heads to fill their houses with all sorts of utensils of gold and\nsilver. They even kept their windows shut during the day, for the light\nof God\u2019s beautiful sun was not good enough for them, and preferred in\ntheir iniquity to burn candles in massive silver candlesticks. The\npatience of Heaven regarded this crime for very long, hoping, perhaps,\nthat the folly would outwork itself; but as it only increased the more,\nthe Lord proceeded with his just punishment. The whole village with\nits church and people sank beneath the earth, and the once flourishing\nvalley became a desolate wilderness.\n\nAbout forty years ago a herdboy of Boden went about in the underwood\nseeking for a lost calf, when all of a sudden he ran up against a large\niron cross which was standing out from the ground. This was the cross\non the tower of the sunken church. He tried to drag it up and cleared\naway the surrounding bushes; there he discovered the coping stones of\nthe tower, on which the cross was so firmly planted that he could not\nmove it; and when he returned on the following day with several other\npeople to dig it out, it was no longer to be seen.\n\nNot many years ago a peasant of Hegerau in the Lech-Thal, whose name\nwas Klotz, passed by that mountain and entered into a sort of tunnel\nthrough the rock, where, on account of the bad weather, he took\nshelter. He lighted a torch to discover the depth of the tunnel, and\nin walking on he suddenly found himself in the sunken church. The high\naltar was gorgeously lighted, and the candles stood in large silver\nlustres. The peasant walked about in the church, and found a man\nsleeping on one of the benches, who as he awoke him inquired the time,\nand when the peasant told him, he sighed and said, \u201cAh! it is still far\nfrom the time.\u201d\n\nWhat he meant by these words remains still an enigma, but the peasant\nseized one of the silver lustres from the altar and ran off in terror.\nHe arrived home late at night carrying the lustre, and would have\nbelieved all as a dreadful dream, had he not the lustre with him as\nwitness. He went to rest, and on the following morning he was dead. His\nwife ordered the lustre to be carried back to its place, but it was\nimpossible to find again the entrance of the underground church.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GOLD-MEASURERS OF LOFER._\n\n\nIn Lofer, a hamlet on the Tyrolian frontier towards Salzburg, lived a\nrich peasant who on his death left behind him three daughters, of whom\nthe youngest was totally blind. The mother was long since dead, and so,\nafter the demise of their father, the three orphans set about dividing\nthe money and property which he had left to them. They found so large\na treasure in the old man\u2019s coffers that they were obliged to divide\nit by means of a sieve, by which the two eldest girls shamefully took\nadvantage of the infirmity of their poor sister to cheat her of her\nshare. Each time the blind sister\u2019s turn came round they reversed the\nsieve and covered only the bottom with money, so that the poor deluded\ngirl in placing her hand upon it should be convinced that she received\nher right share.\n\nIn this way, of course, she never got even a hundredth part of what was\nher due, and after the division was finished the avaricious sisters\nhid their unjustly gained wealth in a secret hole in a rock on the\nmountain. But the All-seeing Eye of Heaven remains ever open, and on\nthe death of the two sisters they were condemned to lie in the form\nof black ferocious dogs in the cavern and to guard their hidden and\nill-gotten treasure. There they are chained until their unholy wealth\nis exhausted by those who succeed in approaching it and take of it only\nso much as they really want; for all who attempt to carry off more\nare immediately seized upon by the infuriated guardians and torn into\natoms. But as there are few in the world who are contented with real\nnecessities, the treacherous sisters will doubtless be compelled to sit\nover their unjustly-gained wealth for many ages to come.\n\n\n\n\n_THE ANTHOLZER-SEE._\n\n\nWhere now lies the beautiful lake in the Puster-Thal with its rippling\ngreen waters, three magnificent farms used to stand surrounded by\nexpanses of rich and fertile ground.\n\nOne year, when the Kermesse was being celebrated, on which day every\none indulges in something more than usual, an old beggar man arrived\nin each of the farms and asked for charity, begging even for any dry\nmorsels that remained from their meal. But the peasants were one and\nall selfish and avaricious, and so they kicked the poor mendicant from\nthe door. The beggar then said in anger to each of them: \u201cTake care!\nin three days a spring shall rise behind your farm, and then your eyes\nwill open; so look to what will happen!\u201d\n\nThe peasants, however, cared little for the beggar\u2019s threat, and\nlaughed at him; but on the third day a spring arose behind each\nfarm, and their united waters increased to such an extent that they\nsoon formed a lake which devoured in its depth the farms and their\ninhabitants.\n\nThis is the Antholzer-See, also called Spitaler Hochsee, which now\nstands surrounded by dark forests of gigantic pines.\n\n\n\n\n_THE MAILED GHOST OF BRIXEN CASTLE._\n\n\nAt Brixen still stands the magnificent ancestral castle of the Lords\nvon Lachm\u00fcller--one of the most ancient families of the Tyrolian\nnobility. In the old picture gallery of this deserted mansion, the\nghost of one of the knights whose portraits still hang there, wanders\nabout.\n\nDuring the time of the French invasion in 1797, a French officer was\nquartered in the castle with several soldiers. On account of the\nnumerous family of the proprietor, there were but a few small chambers\nvacant in the building, and as the officer was not contented with\nthe room which had been allotted to him, he roughly demanded one\nlarger and with finer site. But there was only the picture gallery\nleft, in which the officer took up his abode, laughing and sneering\nat the warnings given him by the host that the corridor was said to\nbe haunted. The strong-headed fellow took every precaution to guard\nhimself against either natural or supernatural apparition, and after he\nhad ordered a strong trooper to lie down close beside him, he went to\nsleep devoid of any fear.\n\nBut, as he awoke at midnight, he saw a knight in full attire standing\nbefore him, who regarded him most ferociously. The officer shouted\nat him, but, as he stood his ground and paid no heed, he transfixed\nthe form with his long sharp sword, which lay unsheathed beside him.\nAt this instant, the apparition stretched out his arms, seized the\nofficer, and hugged him so closely and long, that he lost his breath.\n\nThe trooper awoke late in the morning, and, on finding his master\ndying, he summoned all the inhabitants of the castle, to whom the\nofficer, who came to himself again, recounted in a feeble voice what\nhad happened to him, and pointed out one of the ancestral portraits as\nthe being who had appeared before his bed and hugged him so fearfully.\nTwo hours afterwards he died.\n\n\n\n\n_THE TREASURE OF THE SIGMUNDSBURG._\n\n\nAt the foot of the Fern Alp, about two miles from Nassereit, lies a\nsmall deep green Alpine See, and on a rock, which overhangs it, stands\nthe old castle of Sigmundsburg. Beneath the walls of the castle are\ndeep vaults, hewn in the solid rock, in which is buried an incalculable\ntreasure, whose guardian has the form of a big hairy black dog.\nSometimes, too, the dog appears like a luminous mass, without, however,\nburning; in his mouth he holds a key, which opens the door of the\ntreasure-room, but the conditions on which the treasure can be got at\nare unknown to any one. Besides, the cellar is so well guarded that it\nis very difficult to approach it; and people say that most probably the\nSigmundsburg must fall into ruins before the cellar can be entered,\nand then only the treasure-guardian may have the chance of finding\nthe redemptor, for whom he is already so long waiting; but before that\nmoment arrives, two centuries will perhaps still have to elapse.\n\n\n\n\n_THE FRATRICIDE UPON THE HOCHALP._\n\n\nThe \u201cHochalp\u201d (or High Alp), near Scharnitz, was some two centuries\nago covered up to the top with the finest grass and woods, and the now\ncleared Fitzwald was the most beautiful forest in the whole Tyrol. It\nreached up to the very summit of the mountain, which was covered with\nsuch enormous trees, that three men could not encompass one of them\nwith their arms; in one word, the Hochalp was a \u201cCow-Heaven,\u201d as it was\ngenerally called by the peasants. Where now the sheep climb about, at\nthat time there were but cows pastured, and the cattle thrived there\nbetter than anywhere else.\n\nThe Alp belonged to a rich peasant of Leutasch, named Simele, who had\ntwo sons, who, after his death, commenced a serious quarrel about which\nof them was to have the Alp. The younger brother was a good man, but\nthe other was a real wretch; and, as they could not agree, they drew\nlots for the Alp, which fell to Johann, the younger of the two.\n\nAfter this he married a good village girl, whom his brother Matz had\nset his eyes upon, and from whom he had received a refusal. Johann\nlived happily with his wife, while his brother boiled over with bitter\nspite, and month after month his determination of seeking revenge\nincreased. He commenced a law suit, finding false witnesses, and swore\na false oath, so that the Court declared the drawing invalid, and\nawarded the Alp to Matz.\n\nWhilst all this was going on, Johann was busy on the Alp, and so heard\nnothing of the judgment; and as his brother entered fiercely into the\nhut, and tried to pitch him out of it, he defended himself until his\nherdsmen arrived, who chased him away, after having beaten him soundly.\nAt this reception Matz foamed with rage; so, running home, he seized\nhis gun, crept in the following night back to the hut in which his\nbrother was sleeping, and shot him dead in his bed.\n\nBut Johann\u2019s soul was scarcely out of his body, when God\u2019s wrath\nappeared and fearfully punished the perjurer and fratricide. A terrible\nstorm came on with lightning, thunder, snow, hail, and wild pouring\nrains, so that everything was overthrown and inundated. After that an\nearthquake convulsed the ground, and on both sides the mountains fell\ninto the valley, covering the Alm huts and meadows more than sixty feet\ndeep with _d\u00e9bris_. The murderer was swallowed among the falling rocks,\nand is condemned to suffer dreadfully beneath them. He is still heard\nvery often shrieking in agony, and all the pilgrimages which his family\nhave made for his redemption have been in vain.\n\nAs nobody could do anything with the valley covered with rocks and\nstones, the decried spot fell into the hands of the monastery of\nWerdenfels, and wherever it was possible, the monks have restored\ncultivation, so that new forests and meadows have in course of time\nsprung up upon the ruins of the once famous Alp.\n\nA beautiful little chapel has been erected there, in which several\ntimes during the course of the year service is performed; but the\nspirit of the murderer still wanders around and groans so dreadfully\nduring the night, that every one is terrified. There he must remain\nuntil the last day, and what will happen to him then God alone knows.\n\n\n\n\n_THE TWO HAYSTACKS._\n\n\nOne of the most beautiful and noted Alps in the Tyrol is the\nSeisser-Alp, in the Eisack valley, not far from which stands the\nSchlern, 8100 feet high, with its two pyramids of dolomite rock. About\nfour miles from the Schlern, and joining the wonderful Rosen Garten of\nKing Laurin, are the Rothe Wand and the Rothe Wies, out of which rise\ntwo enormous peaks.\n\nUpon the Schlern pilgrims resort to the Holy Cassian, and on the day of\nthis Saint, the fifth of August, there takes place every year a great\n_f\u00eate_ in the chapel, which stands on the spot. From the parish of\nV\u00f6ls, which lies about nine miles lower down, the inhabitants wend on\nthat day up the mountain to the chapel, and all the mountaineers from\nthe Seisser-Alp assemble there in their Sunday\u2019s best to _f\u00eate_ the\nSaint.\n\nOne day it came into the mind of a farmer to make hay on St. Cassian\u2019s\nday. His servant reluctantly obeyed his commands, and his neighbours\nkind-heartedly warned him that it was a crime to make hay on the day\nof the Saint who was so universally revered. But the farmer laughed\nmockingly, and said, \u201cBe it Cassian\u2019s day or not, the hay must up upon\nthe stacks;\u201d[6] and so he worked on the faster with his servants. At\nlast all the hay, after having been raked together, was pitched up in\ntwo large heaps, which are called there, \u201cSchober,\u201d and as the last\nforkful was thrown upon the top, the two \u201cHeuschober\u201d (haystacks) were\nturned into stone, and in this shape they still stand on the same\nspot as an everlasting warning. Since that time no one has ever again\nthought of working on St. Cassian\u2019s day.\n\n  [6] \u201cCassiantag hin, Cassiantag her,\n       \u2019S Heu muss in die Schober!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE SUNKEN FORESTS._\n\n\nNear the village of Kitzb\u00fchel used to stand a magnificent forest, about\nwhich two peasants had a law-suit of several years\u2019 duration, which\nfinished with the judge being corrupted by one of the two peasants, to\nwhom he awarded the Alp, and sent the defendant off, without the least\nhope of ever regaining his right.\n\nThe losing party, who through this iniquitous proceeding had become\na poor man, could not rest, and constantly bewailed his misfortune,\nsaying that he had been cheated and unjustly condemned. But the other,\nhearing the constant complaining of the poor injured man, one day\ncalled out, \u201cWell, then, by all the devils, keep on crying. If I have\nunlawfully gained the forest, may it sink three thousand feet beneath\nthe ground.\u201d These words had scarcely gone out of his mouth, when an\nearthquake took place, together with a fearful thunderstorm, and the\nmajestic forest sank beneath his feet, and black waves directly rolled\nover it. Though enormously deep as the See is, during certain weather\nthe forms of trees can be distinctly seen far down below.\n\nThe same is the case with the Lanser-See, upon whose bottom trees are\nalso to be seen growing. Where now this See stands, there used to be a\nmagnificent forest of pines, about which, too, a dispute took place,\nthough not between two peasants, but between a peasant and a nobleman,\nand the trial was conducted in such a manner that the nobleman gained\nthe forest away from the poor man, to whom it really belonged; for,\naccording to the old Tyrolian saying, \u201cNoblemen do not bite each\nother.\u201d[7] But the poor peasant, in his anger, cursed the forest, root\nand branch, and it sank into the depths of the earth. Next morning it\nwas no longer to be seen, but a deep See stood in its place, which,\nafter the village of Lans, not far from the renowned castle of Ambras,\nhas taken the name of Lanser-See.\n\n[7] \u201cDie Edelleute beissen einander nicht.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_TANNEN-EH\u2019._\n\n\nHigh up in the Tyrolian Alps formerly stood a fine city, called\nTannen-Eh\u2019, whose inhabitants for ages past had led honest and\nGod-fearing lives. There used to be a Paradise of peace and happiness;\nno one ever thought of hunting or killing any game; domestic animals,\nand Alpine plants and fruits being sufficient for the wants of the\ngood-hearted simple people. There were never quarrels or disputes about\n\u201cmine or thine,\u201d the rich man willingly helped his poorer neighbour,\nand there was no extremity of wealth or poverty at Tannen-Eh\u2019.\n\nBut in course of time all was altered. With increasing wealth the lust\nof gain approached, which brought vanity and luxury in its train. They\nsaid, like the people of Babel, \u201cLet us build a tower whose top shall\nreach the skies, so as to gain ourselves a name, and in the tower there\nshall be a bell, whose sound can be heard by all those who live on\nmountain or valley; and at every christening, wedding, and burial, the\nbell shall sound, but only for us, the rich, and for the poor it shall\nnot sound, because for them it is of no use.\u201d\n\nAnd this wicked plan was executed. The complaints of the oppressed rose\nthrough the skies to Heaven, and in the autumn a great famine fell upon\nthe city. The poor suffered dreadfully, whilst the rich locked up their\ntreasures and store-rooms, and only gave the poor people, who came to\nbeg for bread, insolent words, telling them that, after all, they were\nbut a miserable lot, and the best thing they could do was to die in\nGod\u2019s name, and go straight to Heaven. In this fearful dearth numbers\ndied of absolute starvation.\n\nTowards the end of the autumn, snow began to fall, and rose higher\nand higher, up to the windows up to the roofs, and then far above the\nroofs. In this extremity the rich people of Tannen-Eh\u2019 began to toll\ntheir bell for help, but its sound could scarcely penetrate through the\nthick walls of snow, and no help arrived, for down in the surrounding\nvalley poor people alone were living, who had been cruelly treated and\noppressed by the rich citizens above. So the snow fell thicker and\nthicker, just as long as it rained in the days of the Flood.\n\nAfter this, Tannen-Eh\u2019 with its inhabitants had disappeared, but the\ntower of the church, together with the city, is still to be seen from\nan enormous distance, though deeply covered with everlasting ice.\nThe tower reaches like a silver needle to Heaven, from whence the\nDivine punishment had fallen. This ice-covered needle-rock is the\nOetzthal-Ferner, and the city itself is now the \u201cOetzthal-Gletscher\u201d\n(Oetzthal Glacier).\n\nEven up to the present day the following song, illustrative of the fate\nof the city, is sung in the Tyrol:--\n\n  \u201cIn the city of Tannen-Eh\u2019,\n   Oh woe! Oh woe!\n   Fell a snow,\n   Which never thaws again.\u201d[8]\n\n  [8] \u201cIn der Stadt Tannen-Eh\u2019,\n       Au weh! Au weh!\n       Fallt a Schnee,\n\n\n\n\n_THE DEVIL\u2019S BRIDGE._\n\n\nAlmost every country possesses some legend of a \u201cDevil\u2019s Bridge,\u201d and\nhow the Evil One has been ultimately cheated by his own handiwork, and\nthe Tyrol, which is alive with legends and superstitions, is not behind\nany other in this respect.\n\nIn the valley of Montafon, the bridge of the village broke down, or\nrather the swollen torrent carried it away; and as the parish was\nanxious to restore it as soon as possible, the villagers of course\nbeing unable to pass to and from Schruns, on the other side of\nthe river, for all their daily wants, they applied to the village\ncarpenter, and offered him a large sum of money if he would rebuild\nthe bridge in three days\u2019 time. This puzzled the poor fellow beyond\ndescription; he had a large family and now his fortune would be made at\nonce; but he saw the impossibility of finishing the work in so short a\ntime, and therefore he begged one day for reflection.\n\nThen he set to work to study all day, up to midnight, to find out how\nhe could manage to do the work within the specified time; and as he\ncould find out nothing, he thumped the table with his fist, and called\nout, \u201cTo the devil with it! I can find out nothing.\u201d In his anger and\nannoyance he was on the point of going to bed, when all at once a\nlittle man wearing a green hat entered the room, and asked, \u201cCarpenter,\nwherefore so sad?\u201d and then the carpenter told him all his troubles.\nThe little fellow replied, \u201cIt is very easy to help you. I will build\nyour bridge, and in three days it shall be finished, but only on the\ncondition that the first soul out of your house who passes over the\nbridge shall be mine.\u201d On hearing this, the carpenter, who then knew\nwith whom he had to do, shuddered with horror, though the large sum of\nmoney enticed him, and he thought to himself, \u201cAfter all, I will cheat\nthe devil,\u201d and so he agreed to the contract.\n\nThree days afterwards the bridge was complete, and the devil stood\nin the middle, awaiting his prey. After having remained there for\nmany days, the carpenter at last appeared himself, and at that sight\nthe devil jumped with joy; but the carpenter was driving one of his\ngoats, and as he approached the bridge, he pushed her on before him,\nand called out, \u201cThere you have the first soul out of my house,\u201d\nand the devil seized upon the goat. But, oh, grief and shame! first\ndisappointed, and then enraged, he dragged the poor goat so hard by her\ntail that it came out, and then off he flew, laughed at and mocked by\nall who saw him.\n\nSince that time it is that goats have such short tails.\n\n\n\n\n_LAGO SANTO._\n\n\nAmong the high peaks which overhang the Cembra valley, lies a solitary\nmountain lake whose little outlet falls into the foaming Nevisbach. A\nsmall hut at the pointed end of the lake, and a deserted mine which\nstands close by, surrounded by large heaps of _d\u00e9bris_, give evidence\nto the former activity of the spot.\n\nThis dark lake is called \u201cLago Santo\u201d (or Holy Lake).\n\nWhere it now stands there used to be a flourishing village, whose\ninhabitants found in the neighbouring mines plenty of work and wealth;\nthey were a happy and contented race. A few miles off lay King\nLaurin\u2019s crystal palace, and through the constant communication with\nthis good-hearted mountain King, they became clever and fortunate in\nall their undertakings. But, as time went on, they grew haughty and\nindependent; foreign miners brought false doctrines into the parish,\nand as the priest was either too weak or negligent to oppose their\nwicked practices, in a few years the people became entirely corrupted.\n\nAbout that time a poor man arrived in the village begging for alms, but\nall Christian charity had disappeared, and he was turned off from every\ndoor, even from that of the wealthy priest. At the end of the village\nthere lived a poor widow woman with a numerous family, who alone gave\na piece of bread to the mendicant, who told her in gratitude, \u201cTonight\nyou will hear a fearful noise in the village; however, you need not be\nfrightened, but pray, and for your life do not look out of the window.\u201d\n\nAfter saying these words, the beggar disappeared, and when the family\nhad retired to rest, they were awakened at midnight by a terrible\nstorm. The thunder was terrific, and the lightning streamed over\nthe village, setting every building on fire; then the rain fell in\ntorrents, as though the flood-gates of Heaven were opened. The poor\nwidow was dreadfully terrified, and forgetting the command of the\nbeggar, she looked out of the window, but at the same moment she\nreceived from an invisible hand such a blow in the face, that she fell\nsenseless to the ground.\n\nAs on the following morning she came again to herself, the terrors of\nthe night had disappeared, and the sun shone brilliantly down from\nHeaven. The widow opened the door of her little hut, and, to her great\nastonishment, found the whole country changed; the village had sunk\nbeneath the earth, and a dark See was spread over the spot where it\nused to be; her little hut alone stood unhurt on the borders of the\nnew-formed lake.\n\nSometimes it is possible to see to the bottom of the lake, where the\navaricious priest paces slowly up and down, reading a book; he has\nneglected the souls which had been entrusted to his care, and therefore\nhe has now to suffer penance.\n\n\n\n\n_THE ALBER._\n\n\nThe Floitenthal, near the Ziller valley, is surrounded by such\nterrific mountains, chasms, and rocks, as are nowhere else to be seen;\nthe mountains of Floitenthurm and Teufelseck especially attract the\nattention of the traveller. The latter mountain is called \u201cTeufelseck\u201d\n(devil\u2019s corner), because it is said that at certain times the devil is\nseen descending from it, in the form of a huge fiery dragon. He then\nflies through the Bleiarzkar, a narrow hole in the rock, which leads\nthrough the Stilluppe into the Zillerthal. This hell-dragon is called\nthe Alber, and whenever he appears, plague, famine, and war are the\nsure consequences.\n\nIt once happened that during a pitch-dark night, two men climbed the\ncherry-tree, which stands close to the Mission Cross of Algund, near\nthe village of Meran. One of them, the tailor Hanser, was a most wicked\nman, an idle vagabond and debauchee; and just on that dreadful night\nhe had made a bet with some of his worthless companions to fetch home\ncherries from the tree near the cross; but as he was a rank coward,\nhe dare not go alone, and so he persuaded a good villager, the old\nLoaserer Sepp, to accompany him.\n\nSepp first ascended the tree, but could nowhere find any cherries, so\nhe climbed higher and higher, almost to the very top, and he was very\nmuch astonished at not being able to discover the least sign of fruit,\nfor he knew the tree to be loaded; as he climbed, he noticed a peculiar\nnoise among the leaves, which disquieted him not a little. Hanser, in\nthe meanwhile, had remained on a lower branch, where he found cherries\nby the hatful. At last Sepp shouted to him, \u201cHanser, can you find any?\u201d\nto which Hanser replied, \u201cOh! yes, wherever I put my hand they hang in\nclusters.\u201d So Sepp descended to help his friend in gathering, but was\nunable to find one single cherry, while Hanser was filling his basket\nas fast as he could from the abundance which surrounded him.\n\nSepp began to feel very uncomfortable, and as he stood on the bough\nclose to Hanser, he all at once saw the Alber fly by, lighting all\naround with the brilliancy of an electric fire. At this sight the\ntailor trembled so much that Sepp was obliged to hold him, to prevent\nhim from falling, and said, \u201cHas it already gone so far with you,\nHanser, that the devil not only gives you his blessing, but lights you\nalso to find all the cherries? Then may God preserve you.\u201d He then\nshouted to the fiery Alber, \u201cHi there! wait a little till I can find\nsome cherries too.\u201d But the devil flew off with the speed of lightning.\n\nEven now people admire the courage of the Loaserer Sepp, who dare do\nsuch a thing, and accompany the worthless tailor on such an errand; but\nas he was a good man, the Evil One had no power over him, and so he\nescaped the punishment, which otherwise would have befallen him.\n\n\n\n\n_THE OLD TOWN OF FLIES._\n\n\nWhere the village of Flies now stands, in the Upper-Inn valley, on a\nsunny slope of the right bank of the river, not far from the Pontlaz\nbridge, there used to be, in times gone by, a rich and magnificent\ncity, with splendid houses, strong walls, and gigantic towers,\nsurrounded by deep moats and ditches. But the inhabitants became proud\nand haughty, and practised all sorts of iniquities, devoid of any\nfear of Divine punishment. They were constantly quarrelling with the\nvillagers of the surrounding hamlets, because they seized more and more\nof their ground, and robbed them wherever they could of their little\ncottages and farms.\n\nOne day they commenced felling a large forest, which belonged to some\nneighbouring farmers, who took their loss so much to heart that they\nnearly died of grief, for they had no chance of redress, as even the\njudges themselves were in terror of the cruel citizens. But there was\nstill One Just Judge, who bends His head before no earthly power,\nand He brought a fearful punishment upon the guilty city. From a\nbranch of the Venete Alps, a mountain fell upon the town, which it\ncrushed, together with all its inhabitants, whilst the surrounding\nfarms remained unhurt. These peasants then became proprietors of the\nnew-formed ground above the city, upon which they have planted young\nforests and laid down grass, and the now standing village of Flies has\nbeen built upon the tomb of the engulfed city.\n\n\n\n\n_THE SENDERSER-PUTZ._\n\n\nIn the Senderser valley, which winds up the mountain from Innsbruck,\nbehind the villages of Axams, G\u00f6tzens, and Grinzens, upon the high\nAlps, stands the Kemateneler Alm, also called Heach, upon which the\npeasants of Kematen pasture about a hundred cows.\n\nOn this Heach, so goes the legend, on the eves of great _f\u00eate_ days a\ngigantic Alm Ghost is to be seen, who unchains the cows, and lets them\nrun upon the Alm, while with enormous speed and strength he cleans the\nstables, and carries off the litter in a wheel-barrow. He does this\nwork with so much rapidity that the mountain trembles; and when the\nmorning Angelus rings in the village, the work is all finished, and\nthe cows are again chained up in their stalls. Of course, the frequent\nrecurrence of this fact accustomed the people to it, and they leave\nthe Putz alone, as he never injures them, but rather, on the contrary,\nrenders them a great service.\n\nBut when the good old cow-herd died, a new one took his place, a man\ndevoid in every way of either religion or good feeling, who would not\nbelieve in the apparition, and only laughed at all those who affirmed\nits existence. Soon afterwards, when he heard with his own ears the\nnoise made by the busy Alm-Putz, he wished to sift the matter to the\nbottom, and discover whether the Putz used a supernatural wheelbarrow\nor the one appertaining to his own worthy self; so, for this purpose,\nhe tied a bell to the vehicle in question. The eve of the next _f\u00eate_\nday the herdsman and some companions heard the well-known sound of\nthe bell which he had attached to the barrow. \u201cDo you hear?\u201d said the\nherdsman; \u201cthe Putz really uses my wheelbarrow, so now he must only\nwork for us.\u201d And, in saying so, he joked and sneered, in spite of the\nrepeated exhortations of the other men, who ran off in terror at his\noaths.\n\nAbout a fortnight afterwards the cow-herd was standing at midday\nbefore his hut, while his two milkers were getting their dinner, when\nall at once the gigantic ghost passed by, and the wicked man shouted\nafter him in derision, \u201cBe not so proud, sorcerer, but come and eat\nwith us, since you have worked so hard a whole night for us.\u201d The Putz\nreplied not one word, but striding towards the herdsman, he regarded\nhim so ferociously, that the frightened man fled in terror into the\nhut, where the Putz followed him. The milkers heard the screams of\ntheir companion, but dare not go to his rescue until the Putz had left\nthe hut, and when they found courage to enter it, they discovered the\nwicked man lying on the floor, covered with fearful wounds and bruises.\nThey carried him down to the village, where he died two days afterwards.\n\nSince that time no one has ever dreamed of interfering with the\nterrible Alm Ghost; the villagers leave him in peace to follow his\nfavourite mountain occupation.\n\n\n\n\n_THE DACE FISH OF THE GERLOS-SEE._\n\n\nOn the banks of the Krummbach, near the village of Gerlos, lie three\nmountain lakes, one of which swarms with millions of dace, of which,\nhowever, nobody in the whole valley dares to eat, because, it is said,\nthey were originally put there by a Venediger-Manndl, and have the\nproperty of throwing all those who partake of them into a decline.\n\nThe legend says that a long time ago, a wicked peasant of that valley\ntook it into his head to exterminate all his neighbours secretly and\nby degrees, so that he might eventually become the sole proprietor of\nthe valley, and therefore he paid a heavy sum to a Venediger-Manndl to\ngive him some poison fish to put into the lake. But his wicked plan ill\nrepaid him, for he is now compelled to lie for ever at the bottom of\nthe See, where the dace constantly feed upon his body, there being no\nother thing for them to eat in the whole lake; and, as fast as they\neat, the body of the wicked plotter grows up again.\n\nThe belief in this dreadful legend is so firmly fixed in the minds of\nthe inhabitants, that, even were they starving, they would rather die\nthan touch one of the poison fish in the lake, and their indignation\nwould be extreme did even any stranger try to take a fish out of the\nprohibited water.\n\n\n\n\n_THE VEDRETTA MARMOLATA._\n\n\nNear the village of Buchenstein rises an enormous Ferner, or glacier,\non the borders of which the neighbouring parishes, especially the\nfarmers of Sottil, Sottingh\u00e4zza, and Roucat pasture large herds of\ncows. Only a small valley separates this spot from the village of\nOrnella, which, on account of its position, from November to February\nis devoid of every beam of sun. The aforesaid Ferner, which is above\n11,000 feet high, is called the Vedretta Marmolata, and where now its\nicy fields extend there used once to be the most beautiful Alpine\nmeadows and pasture grounds.\n\nA peasant of Sottil on one Assumption Day had brought down from these\nmeadows a cart-load of hay, and was about to ascend the mountain again\nfor another, when his neighbours set upon him, and upbraided him for\nworking on such a great _f\u00eate_ day. But he laughed and jeered at them,\nsaying, \u201cWhat will Heaven care if even I make hay on a feast day?\u201d And,\nsaying this, he set off up the mountain.\n\nJust as he was on the point of loading his cart, he noticed that the\ndolomite rocks above began to assume most extraordinary forms, and even\nto move about from place to place; dark mists began to rise, which at\nevery moment became more and more dense, and then a heavy snow fell,\nwhich buried him and his cattle, and froze them into blocks.\n\nOn the following morning there was nothing to be seen but a glacier,\nand the peasants say, \u201cThere above are the cart and cattle, master and\nmeadow, which have been changed into that Ferner.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE TEUFELSPLATTE NEAR GALTH\u00dcR._\n\n\nAt the head of the valley of Patznau stands the Galth\u00fcr, a lofty\nmountain, which rises also from the Hinder-Patznau, over 5000 feet\nabove the level of the sea, at the junction of the valleys Montafon\nand Underengadein. Southwards from this mountain runs the Iammthal, or\nIamm valley, about six miles long, and bordered by seven Alps; towards\nthe Iamm-Ferner, stands a colossal ice peak, which stretches its frozen\narms down towards the valleys of Patznau, Montafon, and Engadein.\n\nIn the Iammthal lie beautiful rich meadows, together with the\nTeufelsplatte, a rock which has been very much spoken of. An iron ring\nof 500 pounds is fastened into this rock, and it is said that the devil\nhimself screwed it in its present place.\n\nThe legend goes that two peasants of Galth\u00fcr had quarrelled several\nlong years about a neighbouring meadow, and at last they agreed that\nthe parish itself should decide to which of them the meadow really\nbelonged, for the vast parish meadows surrounded the spot in question.\nSo it was decided that the two peasants who disputed the ownership of\nthe meadow should throw a heavy iron ring, and he who threw the ring\nfurthest should have the meadow, besides all the ground over which he\ncould pitch the ring to gain this object, and the parish judge added,\n\u201cIf either of you fail in throwing the ring over the meadow, its\nboundaries shall remain wherever the ring shall fall, and all that is\nlost shall be added to the parish grounds; but also, wherever you can\npitch the ring into the parish grounds, so far it shall be yours.\u201d\n\nThree days afterwards the trial took place. One of the two competitors\nwas a man who knew more than other people; he was able to summon the\ndevil himself; and as with his assistance he hoped to gain all the\nmeadows in the valley, he made a compact with the Evil One. On the day\nof the trial all the villagers collected on the mountain, where they\nfound an iron ring quite ready, but of 500 pounds in weight. \u201cHa!\u201d\nthought the parish council, \u201call the better, for neither of them can\nthrow this ring one foot from the spot, and the whole meadow will be\nours.\u201d\n\nNow one of the combatants tried to throw the ring, but he could not\neven lift it from the ground. Then came the other, who, aided by the\ndevil\u2019s own power, lifted the massive iron as easily as though it had\nbeen a finger-ring, and lightly tossed it over the valley, as far as\nthe opposite rock, into which it became so deeply imbedded that only a\nvery little is to be seen of the iron.\n\nThe parish councillors scratched their ears in astonishment, while\nthe victorious peasant who had thus gained all the extensive and rich\nparish meadows, laughed and danced with joy. But on the other side,\nclose against the rock, a terrible voice was heard laughing too; and\nthat laughter was anything but of this world, for it was the dread\ndemon himself who laughed.\n\nShortly afterwards the rich peasant became more and more dejected;\nevery one avoided him, and he avoided every one, and each succeeding\nyear found him in a worse and worse state of mind. Once a terrible\nstorm broke out during the night; black clouds collected above the\nmagnificent farm, which the peasant had built on his evilly-gained\ngrounds, and at last a thunderbolt struck the farm and set it ablaze.\nWhen the neighbours ran to assist, they saw a gigantic demon fly out of\nthe smoking flaming ruins, holding the rich peasant by the neck, and\ndragging him, body and soul, to perdition.\n\nOn the following morning all the meadows lay covered with stones and\nrocks, which during the storm had rolled down from the surrounding\nmountains, and, as a memorial, the ring still remains in the rock,\nwhich since that time has borne the name of the Teufelsplatte.\n\n\n\n\n_FRAU H\u00dcTT._\n\n\nIn the times of the giants, whom all Tyrolians believe to have resided\nin the Tyrol during the life of Noah, there lived high on the mountain,\non whose foot the capital of the Tyrol has since been built, a giant\nQueen, whose name was Frau H\u00fctt. Her empire was composed of magnificent\nforests and Alpine meadows, as beautiful, and even still more\nbeautiful than the far-famed Rose Garden of King Laurin, and her palace\nwas so rich and magnificent that from every part of the surrounding\nvalleys it looked like a tower of diamonds.\n\nFrau H\u00fctt had a son, whom she loved beyond all measure, and one day\nit happened that the giant boy went to pull up a pine-tree, for the\npurpose of making himself a walking-stick; but as the pine was standing\non the borders of a deep mossy swamp, the ground gave way under his\nfeet, and he fell, together with the tree, into the quagmire. His\nenormous strength fortunately helped him out of this unlooked-for bath,\nbut he arrived home as black as a nigger, and his clothes infected the\nwhole palace of his mother, who comforted her dear son, and ordered the\nservants to undress him, and clean his mud-covered body with crumbs of\nbread and cake. But the servants had scarcely commenced to execute this\nsinful command when a heavy thunderstorm came on and enveloped all in a\ndreadful darkness, while violent earthquakes shook the whole mountain.\n\nThe palace of Frau H\u00fctt was shattered into one vast ruin, and then\nenormous mountains of rock and thundering avalanches began to fall,\nand in the space of a few hours all the paradisiacal Alp-land, which\nformed the empire of Frau H\u00fctt was destroyed, the forests were swept\naway, the beautiful fields and uplands were covered with rocks and\nstones, and round about nothing was to be seen but a large desert, upon\nwhich not even one little piece of grass has ever grown since.\n\nFrau H\u00fctt was changed into a rock, and there she stands up to the\npresent day, holding her petrified son in her arms, and thus she must\nremain until the end of the world.\n\n\n\n\n_THE TREASURE OF MAULTASCH._\n\n\nAbove the route which leads from Meran to Botzen, not far from Terlan,\nare to be seen the ruins of the old castle of Maultasch, which was\nonce the favourite residence of a Princess of the same name, and from\nher appears to have inherited this name, while another legend says the\nPrincess derived her name from the castle.\n\nThere have been two different parts of this building, the principal\none of which used to stand below in the valley to guard the route, and\non that spot is still to be seen a hole in the rock, which leads into\nan underground passage, through which Margaretha Maultasch, the last\nproprietress of the castle, used to ascend to the upper part of it on\nthe heights above, called Neuhaus.\n\nIn this passage is said to lie a hidden treasure, guarded by a fearful\nkeeper, who is said to be the devil himself. Many people have tried\nto get at this treasure, but no one has ever succeeded; and the\ninhabitants of the surrounding country recount that, some years ago,\ntwo young peasants of Meran had resolved upon going to take the envied\ntreasure. On their way there, they said to one another, \u201cTo-day the\ndevil will never escape us.\u201d So they entered the passage, and began to\nrepeat the incantations they had learnt by heart for the purpose, while\nthrowing around them consecrated powders; but all at once a huge black\ndog rushed upon them, and they fled away, terrified to death, believing\nthat the devil himself was at their heels; and, since that time, no\none has ever again tried to discover the treasure of Maultasch.\n\n\n\n\n_THE NINE-PIN GAME OF MARGARETHA MAULTASCH._\n\n\nIn the ruins of the castle of Maultasch are also said to lie a set\nof golden nine-pins which appear above the ground and blossom every\nhundred years. This set of nine-pins belonged to Margaretha Maultasch,\nwhose gamekeeper \u201cGeorg\u201d stole and buried it when his mistress ceded\nthe Tyrol to Austria, at Botzen, in 1363. Two days after he had\nburied it he was struck by an apoplectic fit and died, and nobody\nknew anything of the treasure. Since that time he is compelled in\nexpiation of his crime to wander about in the castle in the form of a\nhideous ghost and guard the hidden treasure, and at midnight he sets\nup the nine-pins while sighing, and throws the golden ball against the\nlarge castle gate, which then flies open with a fearful noise. Then\nappear all the old counts of the Tyrol and G\u00f6rz, some of them with\ncrowns on their heads, followed by Margaretha Maultasch bearing an\nenormously massive necklace of pure gold, and the richest diamonds.\nThey then begin to play, and the unhappy spirit of Georg is obliged to\nset up the nine-pins, but the ball always bounds against his feet so\npainfully that his cries very often are heard over Botzen and as far as\nSigmundskron.\n\nOnly he who succeeds in digging up the treasure will be the means of\nredeeming Georg; but as it is most difficult to find the proper way and\nright moment, it has almost become an impossibility.\n\nIt is not long since that, in the favourable hour, an egg-woman went\nup the way which leads to the castle. The poor soul of Georg took the\negg basket off her head, and put it down close to the tower on the very\nspot where the nine-pins lay buried. All at once there was nothing in\nthe basket but ten black coals instead of eggs. \u201cThrow your rosary\nquickly upon them,\u201d said the ghost; but unfortunately the woman had no\nrosary with her, and so the happy hour passed by again without being\ntaken advantage of. The ten coals which were to be changed into the\nnine-pins and ball, became again ordinary eggs, and only in another\nhundred years will this fortunate hour return again.\n\nThe ghost climbed up the highest tower rock, crying and sighing his\nordinary lamentations:--\n\n  \u201cHe who will redeem me\n   From the power of the Evil One,\n   Must in the castle\u2019s grounds\n   Find nine-pins and ball\n   Which I stole from the Princess,\n   Which I hid from the Princess.\u201d[9]\n\n  [9] \u201cWer mich will erl\u00f6sen\n       Von dem Bann des B\u00f6sen,\n       Muss in Schlosses Gr\u00fcnden\n       Neun Kegel und Kugel finden,\n       Die hab\u2019 ich der F\u00fcrstin gestohlen,\n       Die hab\u2019 ich der F\u00fcrstin verhohlen.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE DEVIL\u2019S HOLE ON THE KUNTERSWEG._\n\n\nThe ill-famed Kuntersweg is a narrow dangerous cart-way winding through\na deep valley, overtopped on both sides by huge and lofty mountains,\nand ending in the post route from Innsbruck to Botzen.\n\nSoon after leaving this route and entering into the aforesaid track,\nthe traveller arrives at a spot where the valley is more narrow than\nelsewhere, and there he beholds high above him a hole pierced through\na bare rock which is known under the name of \u201cTeufelsloch,\u201d or devil\u2019s\nhole. Beneath this hole are hanging several crucifixes and statues of\nsaints in remembrance of the many accidents which have taken place on\nthat spot--perhaps, also, as a consolation to the friends of the lost\nones and an exhortation to prayer.\n\nOne day a carter drove by that spot, and as the weather happened to be\nvery bad and the road swampy and soft from the long rain, the wheels\nof his cart stuck fast in the ground. It was in vain that he whipped\nhis horses and tried all means in his power to get out of the mud. In\nthis desperate position he summoned the devil to his assistance, using\nthe most fearful oaths, and, lo! all at once there appeared before him\na gentleman clad in rich green clothes, with high boots, and offered\nhis services. The carter, who at first was almost terrified at this\nunexpected apparition, said at last, \u201cWell, I accept your offer.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut not for nothing,\u201d answered the stranger. \u201cI shall help you only\nunder the condition that you will give me a piece of your body.\u201d To\nwhich, after a short reflection, the carter agreed.\n\nThe green stranger had scarcely muttered a few incomprehensible words\nbetween his teeth when the cart moved by some invisible power from\nthe spot, and when directly afterwards the carter was asked for the\npromised reward, he cut off a piece of his long finger nails and handed\nit over to his deliverer. Thus cheated, the devil full of wrath changed\nhis form and, as a monstrous fiery lizard hissing with savage anger,\nand enveloped in sheets of lightning, and with roars of thunder, rushed\nthrough the bare rock above, so that all the mountains round about\nshook. And this hole has ever since been called the Teufelsloch.\n\nIt is no doubt for the purpose of expelling from this spot all\ndiabolical effects, that in course of time those pious images have been\nset up at the foot of the rock; and most probably the road received\nfrom the hellish \u201cKunter,\u201d or apparition, which the carter met there,\nthe name of \u201cKuntersweg.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE SUNKEN CASTLE IN THE BIBURG-SEE._\n\n\nAbout two miles above the village of Oetz in the Oetzthal, in the\nmiddle mountains which cross over the valley like a wall, stands the\npeak called \u201cBiburgspitz,\u201d at the foot of which lies the little lake\nof \u201cBiburg-See.\u201d On the spot where now the See lies, used to stand\nthe magnificent castle of Biburg, which covered an immense expanse\nof ground, and it was in former times the scene of the greatest\nfestivities, for a very beautiful and rich lady used to be its\nmistress; yet it is sad to relate that she was a very wicked woman and\nguilty of all sorts of crimes.\n\nShe had but one child, whom, like Frau H\u00fctt, she spoiled in every\npoint; she cleaned it, too, with new bread and cake crumbs, because\nthey were softer than sponges. One day a venerable hermit who had been\nsent to warn the proprietress, arrived in the castle and paternally\nexhorted her to give up her evil ways; but in spite of him she carried\non her wicked practices more than ever, so that the hermit went away in\ndespair. He had scarcely left the castle when it sank, together with\nits mistress and her son, into the earth, and a calm See filled up its\nplace.\n\nBut a short time afterwards the lake began to bubble and boil, and the\nguilty mistress of the castle rose out of it in the form of a fearful\ndragon, or \u201cLindwurm,\u201d which in its fury bit and tore at the banks of\nthe See for the purpose of making an outlet for the water. This outlet\nforms the little river which runs through the fields belonging to the\nparishes of Oetz and Sauters; and the Tyrolians still say of little\nrivers that come out of the mountains: \u201cHere a Lindwurm has bored its\nway through.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_THE WITCHES\u2019 WALK ON THE KREUZJOCH._\n\n\nNear the village of Mieders, in the Stubaythal, lies a little side\nvalley, in which in dreary solitude stands a small wooden hut opposite\nto an old, half-ruinous farm-building. In this hut there lived, some\nfifty years ago, a wicked woman, called T\u00f6glas Moid, who was originally\nmarried to an honest peasant of the neighbourhood, who, however, died\nsoon after through grief at the bad practices of his wife. After his\ndeath she led a yet worse life, and was in consequence everywhere\ndreaded as a witch; for she was known to have done, and to still do,\nendless harm among the cows. She had chosen five other women of her\nfeather to be her companions and helpmates, and often the whole six\nof them set out from Mieders to the Telfes mountain, where at certain\ntimes they have been seen by the herdsmen carrying on their unholy\nSabbath.\n\nAt last it seems that they went to such an extent that they entered\ninto a compact with the Evil One, and then the destruction which they\ncaused in the surrounding country was so great that the villagers were\nforced to apply for the aid of the Church, according to whose decree\nthey had to appear before the tribunal, where the five companions of\nT\u00f6glas Moid confessed everything, and from that time began to lead a\nnew life; while she who had led them on in all their wickedness became\nworse and worse every day, and carried on her diabolical practices\nalone during yet another five long years, until at last the measure of\nher iniquities was full.\n\nOn the 24th of June, 1823, St. John the Baptist\u2019s Day, a fearful\nthunderstorm broke over Mieders, during which the mountains were\nsplintered with the lightning, and huge masses of rock fell down from\nevery direction into the valley.\n\nOn the following morning some peasants passing by the hut of T\u00f6glas\nMoid, looked in to discover if the witch was there; but she was\nnowhere to be seen. But close by the Witches\u2019 Walk the most fearful\nscreams were heard, which so terrified both man and beast that one\nof the herdsmen ran down to the village for help; for the cows were\npanic-stricken and beyond their control. When the terrified herdsmen\narrived with a crowd of villagers upon the witches\u2019 ground, they found\nher cut into pieces, which they collected and burnt upon a pile of\nbrushwood; and during this operation such fearful noises were heard in\nthe valley and on the surrounding mountains that every one was seized\nwith fear and trembling.\n\nThe parish of Mieders erected in gratitude for the riddance of this\nwitch a large stone cross upon the Witches\u2019 Walk, to which every year,\non the 24th of June, a great procession takes place. This spot is\ncalled the \u201cKreuzjoch,\u201d or cross yoke, and from it a beautiful view is\nobtained of the valley villages of Telfes and Stubay, and of several\nmagnificent glaciers.\n\n\n\n\n_THE TREASURES._\n\n\nTreasure! This ideal of earthly happiness constantly occupies the mind\nof the greatest part of the inhabitants of the Tyrol; and many are the\nmen who, once wealthy and rich, now live on the alms of other people,\non account of their passion for treasure-seeking. Over this hopeless\ninfatuation they neglected their domestic occupation, and all at once,\nalmost without knowing it, stood on the verge of beggary, at which they\nwere just as much surprised as at having been unable to discover the\nenvied object of their search.\n\nThere are treasures in all parts of the country, on the mountains, in\nthe valleys, under rocks and trees, in the lakes, in the cellars, even\nbeneath the hearths, and behind the walls. The ruins of once powerful\nstrongholds generally conceal treasure in different forms, and there\nis not one ruin in the whole Tyrol that possesses not its treasure\ntradition.\n\nThose treasures blossom from time to time, especially on the eve of\nSt. John the Baptist\u2019s Day. Near Axams, in the middle mountains, above\nInnsbruck, on the spot called Zum Knappenloch, a treasure blossoms even\nin the broad daylight.\n\nThe blooming light of these treasures is described to be blue, like the\nflame of spirits of wine, or green, like the light of glow-worms, and\nalso yellowish-green, like that of phosphorus.\n\nThe preceding legends already contain several examples of these\ntreasure-blossoms, and it would be impossible to relate them all, for\ntheir number would fill a volume. But not very long ago a fact took\nplace on the post-route from Imst to Landeck, close by the hamlet of\nStarkenbach, after which it would be utterly impossible to make the\ninhabitants of the surrounding country believe that the treasures do\nnot blossom.\n\nOn this spot several people had noticed, at different times, a green\nlight, which lasted from two to five minutes; but when they approached,\nit dissolved into mist and disappeared.\n\nSome men of Starkenbach happened to be at work on the very same spot,\non the 10th of October, 1854, under the supervision of the road-maker,\nTschoder, when one of the men, whose name is Rundl, pulled up a piece\nof turf, and how joyfully surprised was he when some two hundred silver\ncoins lay at his feet, most of them well-preserved Roman coins of\nthe times of the Emperors, and bearing the inscriptions of Antonius\nPius, Septimus Severus, Marcus Aurelius, Geta, Caracalla, Maximinus\nAugustus; others referred to the Empresses, and bore the inscriptions\nof Faustina Augusta, Julia Augusta. The inscriptions on the reverse of\nthe coins are almost every one of them different, and relate to notable\nevents of the Roman dynasty in the country, thus, Marti Victori,\nFortun\u00e6 Reduci, Felicitas, Providentia, Venus Genetrix, and many of\nthem relate to Juno. The coins are all of the same size, and five of\nthem go to an ounce.\n\n\u201cSuch treasures,\u201d declare the simple-minded Tyrolians, \u201care lying in\nthousands all over the country, if it were only possible to lay hands\nupon them, as on those Roman coins.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n_WOLKENSTEIN._\n\n\nIn the Gr\u00f6dener-Thal lie dispersed in every direction about 135 farms,\nwhich form the parish of Wolkenstein, also called Santa Maria, and\nabove its pretty little chapel, on the top of the peak of Sabbiakopf,\nrise the ruins of the once famous stronghold of Wolkenstein, which is\nsaid to have been built in the time of the Romans by a pagan general,\nwho through his wild and cruel behaviour became the scourge of the\ninhabitants of all the surrounding valleys.\n\nOne day a poor pilgrim went to the castle, asking for charity, but\nthe general ill-treated him so cruelly that he died, and in his last\nagony the pilgrim cursed the castle, and invoked upon it immediate\ndestruction. Directly afterwards a huge mass of rock fell and buried\nit, together with its tyrannical lord, who was not less dreaded than\nthe fearful Orco, whose abode lay in this country.\n\nSome centuries later on, a wandering knight arrived in the\nneighbourhood, seeking treasures in the ruins of the castle; and it is\ngenerally believed that his search was successful, because before then\nhe was very poor, and now he began to build a magnificent castle upon\nthe old ruins, and called it also Wolkenstein. Every future proprietor\ntook the name of the castle, together with the title of Count, and up\nto the present day the family are a wealthy, powerful, and extended\nrace. One of their ancestors was the celebrated Minnesinger, Oswald\nvon Wolkenstein, who lived in the days of \u201cFrederick with the empty\npocket.\u201d\n\nLater on the castle was struck by lightning, and one of the Counts\nbuilt a new castle in the valley below, and gave it the name of\nFischburg; and the old castle of Wolkenstein has since tumbled into\ndecay, but its magnificent and imposing ruins are still to be seen.\n\n\n\n\n_THE GHOSTS OF THE CASTLE OF V\u00d6LLENBERG._\n\n\nAbove the village of G\u00f6tzens, on the route to Arams, are to be seen the\nruins of two towers, once belonging to a castle of vast importance,\nand which are called V\u00f6llenberg and Liebenberg. Two noble races used\nformerly to reside in this castle, which has quite disappeared, with\nthe exception of the towers above named; it is from these families that\nthe towers derived their names. The celebrated Minnesinger Oswald von\nWolkenstein, of whom we have already spoken in the preceding legend,\nwas for a long time prisoner at V\u00f6llenberg.\n\nThe legend goes that the spirits of the former inhabitants are still\nwandering about in those two towers; at certain times at midnight the\nruins become alive, and lords and ladies, in long sweeping dresses,\nfollowed by liveried servants of the olden style, pass up and down the\nruinous stone staircases. Their heads are empty skulls, and they sit\ndown in the great castle hall, where they try in vain to drink out of\nlarge goblets; being, however, unable to taste the beautiful wine with\nwhich they are brimming over, they dash the goblets against the walls\nand smash them into fragments.\n\nSo it happens also with their unholy feast, which is laid out most\ntemptingly before them on the tables; for as one of them approaches the\ndish upon which he has set his mind, it falls to the ground as dust and\nashes. Then the wretched spirits endeavour to enjoy themselves with\nsinging and dancing; but their bones rattle so terribly, and their\ncompanions are so frozen and stiff, that their song becomes a Miserere.\n\nThis is their punishment for all their former intemperance and\nevil-doings, and this terrible scene is only brought to a close by the\nringing of the morning Angelus.\n\n\n\n\n_THE FR\u00c4ULEIN VON MARETSCH._\n\n\nAt midnight there is often to be seen in the old castle of Maretsch\nthe spirit of a young lady, who wanders about, crying and wringing\nher hands, as though in the most terrible grief. Her long soft hair\nis blown wildly about by the wind, her beautiful face is deadly pale,\nand her eyes are fixed and staring. This is Fr\u00e4ulein von Maretsch, the\nonly daughter of the Baron von Maretsch, and once noted as the most\nbeautiful girl of the whole country.\n\nAlthough scarcely sixteen years of age, she was passionately enamoured\nof the young and brave Baron von Treuenstein, who under Frederick\nthe Red Beard, together with all the Tyrolian nobility, took part in\nhis crusade, for the purpose of gaining the glory of knighthood in\nfighting against the infidels, which, according to the promise of the\nold Baron von Maretsch, should entitle him to his beautiful daughter\nfor a wife.\n\nTwo years had already gone by since the hopeful young warrior had left\nthe country, after having received the blessing of the old Baron, when\none day a pilgrim from Palestine craved admission to the castle, and\nrecounted the bloody battles of the Crusaders against the Saracens. In\nthe course of his narrative he came to speak of the young Baron von\nTreuenstein, and said that he had conquered large districts, and at\nlast had married the daughter of a rich Pacha, and thus made himself\nhappy for ever.\n\nOn hearing this, Kunigunde turned deadly pale, and sank swooning to the\nground; her attendants carried her senseless to her room, for the news\nof this dreadful infidelity had broken her heart.\n\nDirectly the young lady had left the room, the pilgrim sprang joyfully\nup, pressed the old Baron to his heart, threw away his pilgrim\u2019s garb,\nand in bright armour appeared before him as the Baron von Treuenstein,\nwho had masked himself in this manner to prove the fidelity of his\nbride. \u201cLet us now quickly go to my dear Kunigunde,\u201d said he to the\nfather, \u201cto dispel the grief and pain which I have caused her;\u201d and\nwith high beating hearts they crossed the corridor which led into the\nyoung lady\u2019s room.\n\nBut the room was empty, and the window open; and as they looked down\ninto the ditch which surrounded the castle, they saw the unfortunate\ngirl lying smashed and blood-covered in the depth below. The untimely\ngrief had caused her to lose her senses, and in this condition she\nsprang into the arms of death.\n\nAt that sight the young Baron became speechless. He rushed away to the\nbattle-field, and nobody ever heard of him again, while the poor old\nfather died soon afterwards of grief; and since that time the spirit\nof the unhappy girl is condemned to wander about in the ruins of the\nancient castle of Maretsch.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\nPRINTED BY TAYLOR AND CO.,\nLITTLE QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN\u2019S INN FIELDS.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n\n\nThis text has been preserved as in the original, including archaic and\ninconsistent spelling, punctuation and grammar, except as noted below.\n\nObvious printer\u2019s errors have been silently corrected.\n\nText in italics in the original work is represented herein as _text_.\n\nSmall capitals in the original work are represented herein as all\ncapitals.\n\nFootnotes have been renumbered and then moved to directly below the\nparagraphs to which they belong.\n\nPage 29: There were several characters not printed at \u201canswered the\npoor spirit [of th]e priest\u201d and are shown here within the brackets.","title":"Tales and Legends of the Tyrol","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":41887}