“Peely, peely, Pilka, pide—”
Instantly the King’s Son threw the strong iron chain about her and drew her to him. Then with one mighty sweep of the scythe he severed the silver chains that were attached to her ankles and the silver chains fell chiming into the depths. Another instant and the maiden in his arms was no maiden but a slimy fish that squirmed and wriggled and almost slipped through his fingers. He killed the fish and, lo! it was not a fish but a frightened bird that struggled to escape. He killed the bird and, lo! it was not a bird but a writhing lizard. And so on through many transformations, growing finally small and weak until at last there was only a mosquito. He crushed this and in his arms he found again the lovely Ilona.
“Ah, dear one,” he said, “you are my true bride and not Suyettar who pretended she was you! Come, we will go at once to the castle and confront her!”
But Ilona cried out at this:
“Not there, my Prince, not there! Suyettar if she saw me would kill me and devour me! Keep me from her!”
“Very well, my dear one,” the King’s Son said. “We’ll wait until to-morrow and after to-morrow there will be no Suyettar to fear.”
So for that night they took shelter in the old wise woman’s hut, Ilona and the King’s Son and faithful little Pilka.
The next morning early the King’s Son returned to the castle and had the sauna heated. Just inside the door he had a deep hole dug and filled it with burning tar. Then over the top of the hole he stretched a brown mat and on the brown mat a blue mat. When all was ready he went indoors and roused Suyettar.
“Where have you been all night?” she demanded angrily.
“Forgive me this time,” he begged in pretended humility, “and I promise never again to be parted from my own true bride. Come now, my dear, and bathe for the sauna is ready.”
Then Suyettar, who loved to have people see her go to the sauna just as if she were a real human being, put on a long bathrobe and clapped her hands. Four slaves appeared. Two took up the train of her bathrobe and the two others supported her on either side. Slowly she marched out of the castle, across the courtyard, and over to the sauna.
“They all really think I’m a human princess!” she said to herself, and she was so sure she was beautiful and admired that she tossed her head and smirked from side to side and took little mincing steps.
When she reached the sauna she was ready to drop the bathrobe and jump over the doorsill to the steaming shelf, but the King’s Son whispered:
“Nay! Nay! Remember your dignity as a beautiful princess and walk over the blue mat!”
So with one more toss of her head, one more smirk of her ugly face, Suyettar stepped on the blue mat and sank into the hole of burning tar. Then the King’s Son quickly locked the door of the sauna and left her there to burn in the tar, for burning, you know, is the only way to destroy Suyettar. As she burned the last hateful thing Suyettar did was to tear out handfuls of her hair and scatter them broadcast in the air.
“Let these,” she cried, yelling and cursing, “turn into mosquitos and worms and moths and trouble mankind forever!”
Then her yells grew fainter and at last ceased altogether and the King’s Son knew that it was now safe to bring Ilona home. First, however, he had Osmo released from the place of the serpents and asked his forgiveness for the unjust punishment.
Then he and Osmo together went to the hut of the old wise woman and there with tears of happiness the brother and sister were reunited. The King’s Son to show his gratitude to the old wise woman begged her to accompany them to the castle and presently they all set forth with Pilka frisking ahead and barking for joy.
That day there was a new wedding feast spread at the castle and this time it was not bones and fish heads and burnt crusts but such food as the King’s Son had not tasted for many a day. To celebrate his happy marriage the King’s Son made Osmo his chamberlain and gave Pilka a beautiful new collar.
“Now at last,” Ilona said, “I am glad I left the house of my forefathers.”
1.A transliteration of Syöjätär, the name of the dread Finnish witch.
THE GIANT WHO HAD NO HEART
Norway
There was once upon a time a king who had seven sons. He loved them all so much that he could never do without them all at once; one had always to be with him. When they were grown up, six of them set out to woo. But the father kept the youngest son at home, and for him the others were to bring back a princess to the palace. The king gave the six the finest clothes you ever set your eyes upon, and you could see the glitter of them a long way off, and each had his own horse, which cost many, many hundred dollars, and so they set out on the journey.
After having been to many royal palaces and seen all the princesses there, they came at last to a king who had six daughters; such lovely princesses they had never seen, and so each of them began wooing one of the six sisters, and when they had got them for sweethearts, they set out for home again; but they quite forgot to bring a princess with them for Ashiepattle,1 who was left at home, so busy were they making love to their sweethearts.
When they had journeyed a good bit of the way, they passed close to the side of a steep mountain, where there was a giant’s castle. As soon as the giant saw them, he came out and turned them all, princes and princesses, into stone. But the king waited and waited for his six sons, but no sons came. He was very sad, and said that he should never be glad again. “Had you not been left to me,” he said to Ashiepattle, “I should not care to live any longer. I am so sad because I have lost your brothers.”—“But I have been thinking to ask for leave to set out and find them, I have,” said Ashiepattle.—“No, I cannot let you go,” said his father; “I shall lose you as well.” But Ashiepattle would go, and he begged and prayed till the king gave him leave to go. The king had no other horse to give him but an old jade, for his six brothers and their men had taken all the other horses, but Ashiepattle did not mind that; he mounted the shabby old nag.
“Good-bye, father,” said he to the king, “I shall come back, sure enough, and who knows but I shall have my six brothers with me as well,” and off he started.
Well, when he had got a bit on his way, he came to a raven, which was lying in the road flapping his wings, and was unable to get out of his way, it was so famished. “Oh, dear friend, give me something to eat, and I will help you in your utmost need,” said the raven.—“Very little food have I,” said the prince, “and you don’t look as if you could help me much either, but a little I must give you, for you want it badly, I see,” and then he gave the raven some of the food he had with him. When he had travelled some distance further, he came to a stream. There he saw a big salmon, which had got ashore and was dashing and knocking himself about and could not get into the water again. “Oh, dear friend! help me into the water again,” said the salmon to the prince, “and I will help you in your utmost need.”—“I don’t suppose it can be much of a help you can give me,” said the prince, “but it is a pity you should lie there and very likely perish,” so he shoved the fish into the stream again. So he travelled a long, long way, till he met a wolf, which was so famished that he was only able to drag himself along the road. “Dear friend, give me your horse,” said the wolf. “I am so hungry, I hear the wind whistling in my empty stomach. I have had nothing to eat for two years.”—“No,” said Ashiepattle, “I can’t do it; first I came to a raven which I had to give all my food to; then I came to a salmon which I had to help back into the water; and now you want my horse. But that is impossible, for then I should have nothing to ride upon.”—“Yes, yes, my friend, but you must help me,” said the wolf, “you can ride on me instead; I shall help you again in your utmost need.”—“Well, the help you can give me will not be great; but I suppose you must have the horse then, since you are so needy,” said the prince. And when the wolf had finished the horse Ashiepattle took the bridle and put the bit in the wolf’s mouth and the saddle on his back, and the wolf felt now so strong and well afte
r what he had had to eat, that he set off with the prince as if he were nothing at all; Ashiepattle had never ridden so fast before. “When we get a little bit further I will show you a giant’s castle,” said the wolf, and in a little while they came there. “See, here is the giant’s castle,” said the wolf again, “and there you see all your six brothers, whom the giant has turned into stone, and there are their six brides. Over yonder is the door of the castle, and you must go in there.”—“I dare not,” said the prince, “the giant will kill me.”—“Not at all,” answered the wolf; “when you go in there you will meet a princess. She will tell you what to do to make an end of the giant. Only do as she tells you.” Well, Ashiepattle went into the castle, but to tell the truth he felt rather afraid. When he got inside, he found the giant was out; but in a chamber sat the princess, just as the wolf had said. Such a lovely maiden Ashiepattle had never seen before.
“Good heavens! what has brought you here?” said the princess, as soon as she saw him. “It’s sure to be your death; no one can kill the giant who lives here, for he hasn’t got any heart.”—“But now when I am here, I suppose I had better try my strength with him,” said Ashiepattle, “and I must see if I can’t release my brothers who are standing outside here, turned into stone, and I will try to save you as well.”—“Well, since you will stop, we must try and do the best we can,” said the princess. “You must creep under the bed over there and listen well to what he says when I speak with him, and be sure to lie as quiet as you can.”
So Ashiepattle crept under the bed, and no sooner had he done so than the giant came home. “Ugh, what a smell of Christian blood there is here,” shouted the giant.—“Yes, a magpie flew over the house with a man’s bone and let it fall down the chimney,” said the princess; “I made haste to throw it out, but the smell doesn’t go away so soon.” So the giant said no more about it, and when evening came, they went to bed. When they had lain a while, the princess said: “There is one thing I wanted so very much to ask you about, if I only dared.”—“Well, what can that be?” asked the giant.—“I should so like to know where your heart is, since you don’t carry it about you,” said the princess.—“Oh, that’s a thing you needn’t know anything about,” said the giant, “but if you must know, it’s under the stone slab in front of the door.”—“Ah, ha! we shall soon see if we can’t find that,” said Ashiepattle to himself under the bed.
Next morning the giant got up very early and set out for the wood, but no sooner was he out of sight than Ashiepattle and the princess commenced looking for the heart under the door-slab, but although they dug and searched all they could, they could not find anything. “He has made a fool of me this time,” said the princess; “but I must try him again.” So she picked all the prettiest flowers she could find and strewed them over the door-slab, which they put in its right place again. When the time came for the giant to return home, Ashiepattle crept under the bed, and he had scarcely got well under before the giant came in. “Ugh, what a smell of Christian blood there is here,” screamed the giant.—“Yes, a magpie flew over the house and dropped a man’s bone down the chimney,” said the princess; “I made haste to clear it away, but I suppose the smell hasn’t gone away yet.”—So the giant said no more about it, but in a little while he asked who it was that had been strewing flowers around the door-slab. “Why, I, of course,” said the princess.—“And what’s the meaning of it?” asked the giant.—“Well, you know I am so fond of you,” said the princess, “that I couldn’t help doing it when I knew that your heart was lying under there.”—“Ah, indeed,” said the giant, “but it isn’t there after all.”
When they had gone to bed in the evening, the princess asked again where his heart was, because she was so very fond of him, she said, that she would so like to know it. “Oh, it’s over in the cupboard on the wall there,” said the giant. Ah, ha, thought both Ashiepattle and the princess, we will soon try to find it. Next morning the giant was early out of bed, and made for the wood again, but the moment he was gone Ashiepattle and the princess were looking in the cupboard for the heart, but they looked and searched and found no heart. “Well, we must try once more,” said the princess. She hung flowers and garlands around the cupboard, and when the evening came Ashiepattle crept under the bed again. Shortly the giant came in. “Ugh, Ugh!” he roared, “what a smell of Christian blood there is here.”—“Yes, a magpie flew past here just now, and dropped a man’s bone down the chimney,” said the princess; “I made haste to throw it out, but I suppose that’s what you still smell.” When the giant heard this, he said no more about it; but as soon as he saw the cupboard decked out with flowers and garlands, he asked who it was that had done that. It was the princess, of course. “But what’s the meaning of all this foolery?” asked the giant.—“Well, you know how fond I am of you,” said the princess; “I couldn’t help doing it, when I knew your heart was there.”—“How can you be so foolish to believe it?” said the giant.—“Well, how can I help believing it when you say so?” answered the princess.—“Oh, you are a foolish creature,” said the giant, “you can never go where my heart is!”—“Ah, well,” said the princess, “but I should like to know for all that where it is.”—So the giant could not refuse to tell her any longer, and he said: “Far, far away in a lake lies an island,—on that island stands a church,—in that church there is a well,—in that well swims a duck,—in that duck there is an egg,—and in the egg—well, there is my heart.”
Early next morning, almost before the dawn of day, the giant set out for the wood again. “Well, I suppose I had better start as well,” said Ashiepattle; “I wish I only knew the way!” He said farewell to the princess for a time, and when he came outside the castle there was the wolf still waiting for him. He told the wolf what had happened inside, and that he was now going to set out for the well in the church, if he only knew the way. The wolf asked him to jump on his back,—he would try and find the way, sure enough, he said, and away they went over hills and mountains, over fields and valleys, while the wind whistled about them. When they had travelled many, many days, they came at last to the lake. The prince did not know how he should get across it; but the wolf asked him only not to be afraid, and then he plunged into the water with the prince on his back and swam across to the island. When they came to the church, they found the key for the church-door hanging high, high up on the steeple, and at first the young prince did not know how to get hold of it. “You will have to call the raven,” said the wolf, which the prince did. The raven came at once, and flew up for the key, and so the prince got inside the church. When he came to the well, the duck was there sure enough. It was swimming about just as the giant had said. He commenced calling and calling, and at last he lured her up to him and caught her. But just as he was lifting her out of the water, the duck let the egg fall in the well; and Ashiepattle didn’t know how to get it up again. “You had better call the salmon,” said the wolf, which the prince did. The salmon came and fetched the egg from the bottom of the well. The wolf then told him to squeeze the egg, and as soon as Ashiepattle squeezed it, they heard the giant screaming. “Squeeze it once more,” said the wolf, and when the prince did so, the giant screamed still more piteously, and prayed so nicely and gently for himself; he would do all the prince wished, if he only wouldn’t squeeze his heart to pieces.—“Tell him, that if he will give you back again alive your six brothers and their brides, which he turned into stone, you will spare his life,” said the wolf, and Ashiepattle did so.—Yes, the giant would do that at once, and he restored the six princes and the six princesses to life.—“Now, squeeze the egg to pieces,” said the wolf. Ashiepattle squeezed it flat between his hands, and the giant burst.
So when Ashiepattle had got rid of the giant, he rode back again on his friend, the wolf, to the giant’s castle, and there stood all his six brothers and their brides, all alive, and then Ashiepattle went into the mountain for his own bride, and they all set out for their home, the royal palace. The old king was pleas
ed, I can tell you, when all his seven sons came back, each with his bride. “But the loveliest of the princesses is Ashiepattle’s bride after all,” said the king, “and he shall sit at the top of the table with her.”
And then the wedding came off, and the king gave a grand feast which lasted for many a day, and if they have not done feasting by this, why they are still at it.
1.The favourite hero of most Norwegian fairy tales is called “Askeladen,” a sort of a male “Cinderella,” and is always the youngest son of the family.
JACK of SJÖHOLM and the GAN1-FINN
Norway
In the days of our forefathers, when there was nothing but wretched boats up in Nordland, and folks must needs buy fair winds by the sackful from the Gan-Finn, it was not safe to tack about in the open sea in wintry weather. In those days a fisherman never grew old. It was mostly womenfolk and children, and the lame and halt, who were buried ashore.
Now there was once a boat’s crew from Thjöttö in Helgeland, which had put to sea, and worked its way right up to the East Lofotens.
But that winter the fish would not bite.
They lay to and waited week after week, till the month was out, and there was nothing for it but to turn home again with their fishing gear and empty boats.
But Jack of Sjöholm, who was with them, only laughed aloud, and said that, if there were no fish there, fish would certainly be found higher northwards. Surely they hadn’t rowed out all this distance only to eat up all their victuals, said he.
He was quite a young chap, who had never been out fishing before. But there was some sense in what he said for all that, thought the head-fisherman.
Nordic Tales Page 11