Búkolla
There once were an old man and woman who owned a small farm. They had one son, but they did not love him. No other people lived at the farm. The old couple owned one cow; that was the extent of their livestock. The cow was named Búkolla.
Once, the cow calved, and the old woman attended to her. When the cow had recovered, the old woman went back to the farmhouse.
A short while later, the old woman returned to check on the cow, but found that it was gone. The old couple searched far and wide, but the cow could not be found.
They were now in a foul temper and ordered their son to go out and search for Búkolla, saying they did not want to see him again unless he had the cow with him. They gave him provisions and a new pair of shoes, and sent him off into the blue yonder.
The boy walked a long, long distance before sitting down to eat something. He then said:
“Let me hear you moo, my Búkolla, if you are still alive.”
He then heard the cow moo somewhere far, far away.
Again he walked a long, long distance, and again he sat down to eat, saying: “Let me hear you moo, my Búkolla, if you are still alive.”
He then heard Búkolla moo, a little closer than before.
Once more he walked a long, long distance, until he came to some exceedingly tall cliffs. There he sat down to eat, saying, “Let me hear you moo, my Búkolla, if you are still alive.”
He then heard the cow mooing beneath his feet. He clambered down the side of the cliffs and saw a very large cave. He entered and saw Búkolla tied beneath a sturdy wooden beam. He untied her immediately, led her out of the cave, and headed for home.
When he had journeyed for a time, he turned to see a large ogre coming after him, and a smaller one with her. He also observed that the large ogre had such a long stride that she would reach him before long.
He then asked: “What do we do now, my Búkolla?”
The cow said: “Take a hair from my tail and lay it on the ground.”
He complied. Búkolla then said to the hair: “I pronounce and declare that you shall turn into a mist so large that no one can cross it but the birds in the sky.”
At that very instant, the hair was transformed into a huge swath of mist.
When the ogre reached the mist, she cried: “You will not succeed in this, boy! Run home, girl,” she ordered the smaller ogre, “and fetch my father’s large bull.”
The small ogre ran off and presently returned with a very large bull. In an instant, the bull had drunk up all the mist.
The boy then saw that the ogre would reach him in the blink of an eye, for she had such a long stride.
He asked, “What shall we do now, my Búkolla?”
“Take a hair from my tail and lay it on the ground,” the cow said.
He complied. Then Búkolla said to the hair: “I pronounce and declare that you shall turn into such a large blazing fire that no one can cross it but the birds in the sky.”
In an instant, the hair was transformed into a huge fire.
When the ogre arrived at the fire, she roared: “You will not succeed in this, boy!” She turned to the small ogre: “Go and fetch my father’s large bull, girl.”
The small ogre ran off, and soon returned with the bull. It pissed out all the water that it had drunk in with the mist, and thus put out the fire.
The boy then saw that the ogre would reach him in a heartbeat, for she had such a long stride.
He asked, “What can we do now, my Búkolla?”
The cow said: “Take a hair from my tail and lay it on the ground.”
He complied. Then Búkolla said to the hair: “I pronounce and declare that you shall turn into such a high mountain that no one can cross it but the birds in the sky.”
The hair was instantly transformed into such a tall mountain that the boy saw nothing but the blue sky above.
When the ogre came to the mountain, she thundered: “You will not succeed in this, boy!” To the small ogre she growled: “Fetch my father’s large drill, girl.”
The small ogre ran off, soon returning with the drill. The large ogre then drilled a hole into the mountain, and the moment she was able to see to the other side she became so eager to get through that she scrambled into the hole. But it was too tight, she became stuck, and finally turned to stone inside the mountain. She remains there to this day.
The boy, on the other hand, found his way home with his Búkolla, much to the delight of the old man and woman.
The Story of Himinbjörg
Once upon a time there was a kingdom ruled by a king and queen. Their names, or the location of their kingdom, are not known. They had one son named Sigurður, who was the apple of their eye. He was a man of exceptional abilities who had a great affection for his parents and was liked by everyone. Sigurður was a grown man when this story took place.
It so happened that the queen fell ill, and died. This was a great tragedy for all, but mostly for the king and his son. So deep was their grief that they were unable to find enjoyment in any activity. The wisest men did their best to console them, and eventually, through their advice and counsel, the king began to recover and to enjoy sporting activities once more. Sigurður, however, continued to grieve for his mother. Nights he would lie at her grave, alone and forlorn, and no man could persuade him to leave. This continued for a time.
One fine day the king and his entourage were taking part in a sporting event at a playing field on the edge of town. Suddenly a bank of clouds appeared. It moved swiftly to the location where the king was playing. A woman then appeared in the clouds and descended to the ground. She was attractive and well attired, and everyone who witnessed this marvelled at her appearance there.
She made her way to where the king was standing and addressed him respectfully. The king returned her greeting amicably and asked her name. She said her name was Himinbjörg, and asked if she could join the court. Many of the king’s advisors discouraged him from admitting her, as they were sure that her arrival spelled a great misfortune. But the king found the woman’s appearance pleasing. The advisors’ discouragement fell on deaf ears, and the king granted her permission to join the court.
Himinbjörg remained in the king’s company and soon earned the good favour of the people of the court. Gradually the king developed a deep affection for her, and eventually he announced that he would make her his queen. The announcement was well received, and through the counsel of good men it came to pass that the king and Himinbjörg were wed.
A venerable feast was held to celebrate the wedding, and it was evident that the king had overcome all grief at the death of his former queen. This delighted his people, all but Sigurður, who did not join in the celebrations. He continued to dwell on his mother’s passing and to keep vigil by her grave. This was deeply distressing to the king and his associates, yet no one was able to alleviate his grief.
One night, as Sigurður lay on his mother’s grave, he was overcome with fatigue. He fell asleep and dreamt that his mother came to him. She appeared angry.
“Here you lie, Sigurður, and in an odd state,” said she. “Methinks you waste your time senselessly. You make a spectacle of yourself, lie out here each night like a scoundrel, complaining and lamenting and causing me much grief. This must have consequences. I now declare that you shall have no peace until you have freed a princess who has been turned into a hideous ogre from under that spell.”
She then turned away. Sigurður awoke, and thought that he saw her ghost leaving. He went home, took to his bed, and was inconsolable. A host of wise men did their best to assuage his suffering, but to no avail.
The king then asked Himinbjörg if she could help alleviate Sigurður’s pain. She went to him, and through her gentle yet shrewd probing, was able to get him to tell her of his dream, and the reason for his troubles.
She responded by saying that this certainly boded ill, “And it will prove the old adage that there are few things more potent than sorcery. About this curse t
here is nothing to be done. I have a foster mother,” she continued, “and if she cannot help you, I believe that no one can. You must go to her. Take this belt and knife to her as proof that I wish her to help you on your mission. Here is also a ball of yarn. Let it roll in front of you, holding on to one end, and at length it will lead you to the home of my foster mother. I also advise you to be kind to anyone you may encounter along the way. I have a hunch that, after your departure, the court and even your father will turn against me. I shall be blamed for your misfortunes and shall be put to death, unless you come to my rescue.”
Thus their conversation ended, and they bid each other a fond farewell.
A short time later Sigurður vanished, and no one knew where he had gone. His loss was keenly felt by all.
Let us now learn of Sigurður’s journey. He walked over mountains and through forests, traversing great distances. He felt no hunger on his travels, as Himinbjörg had given him a magic sack of provisions, the nature of which was to never become empty. The ball of yarn rolled in front of him, and he followed. Eventually he came to a coastline and began to follow it.
He came upon some cliffs along the coast and saw a large flock of ravens. Counting them, he found there to be fifty in all. They were fighting and tearing at each other over a ledge on the cliff where they all wanted to perch. One raven lay on the ground, evidently very weak. Sigurður found this entire scene very strange and stood a while watching them. Then, remembering his stepmother’s advice, he began to hew ledges into the cliffs for all the ravens, subsequently placing each bird on a separate ledge. He placed the weak raven on the ledge over which they had all been fighting. He then gave them food to eat so that they were satiated. As he was leaving, the ravens called out to him, saying that he should summon them if he ever needed help. He replied that he would be glad to be able to call upon them.
Sigurður had but walked a short distance when he saw another cliff with fifty seagulls, in the same predicament as the ravens. He resolved their difficulty in the same way as before.
Coming to a third cliff, he found fifty doves in the same situation as the ravens and seagulls, and settled the matter in the same way as previously. All urged him to summon them if needed, and he responded to their offers with gratitude.
His journey continued without incident, until he arrived at a small farmhouse with a half-open door. There, his ball of yarn came to a halt. Sigurður realized that this was the house to which he had been sent. He knocked at the door, and a very old woman appeared. He asked her name. She responded with indifference, but said that her name was Blákápa. He then asked her for shelter. She did not readily acquiesce, noting that her house was small and that she had not expected guests. “Besides,” she added, “I do not know you.”
At this, Sigurður conveyed Himinbjörg’s greeting to her.
“May the heavens smile upon my foster daughter,” she replied. “What news can you give me?”
Sigurður said that he had seen her, “And she has sent me to ask for your assistance.”
He then showed her the knife and belt. She examined them and said, “I see by these objects that you speak the truth, and that my foster daughter wishes me to assist you. But first you will stay the night here.”
They went inside, where she decked a table for him and served him a meal. When he had eaten his fill she showed him to a bed, where he spent the night in comfort.
The next morning, Blákápa rose early and asked Sigurður about his circumstances. He explained his situation as well as he could, and said why he had come there. Blákápa listened with a concerned expression. Then she said:
“Your troubles are great, Sigurður, no matter how you seek to resolve them. I know the place to which you are being directed. An excellent king reigned a short distance from here. He and his queen had a daughter named Ingigerður, who kept a chamber with eighteen maidens to serve her. All were the daughters of noble men.
“It then happened that the queen died. Soon after that a maiden appeared in the realm and no one knew from whence she had come. She was extremely beautiful, but was in fact a horrible ogre. The king was so enamoured with her beauty that he took her for his queen, and this upset princess Ingigerður greatly. She cared little for her stepmother and therefore became the target of her hostility and wrath. One day the queen went to Ingigerður’s chamber and cast a spell on her, ordering that she should turn into a hideous ogre, that all of her handmaidens should become ogres, and that they should kill the king and destroy his kingdom.
“After that she disappeared, and she has not been seen since. Yet her spell was so potent that it all came to pass. The princess and her maidens are all terrifying ogres, and the princess is the worst of all. She has killed her father and her kinsmen and destroyed the kingdom so absolutely that no man can dwell in it. She now resides there with her eighteen servants, and I see that this is the princess to whom you are being sent. You are in grave danger indeed. None who have gone to see her have survived to tell the tale, and unless you are a man of exceptionally good fortune you shall never be able to complete this mission.
“And yet, the spell cast upon you is powerful, and I shall not try to discourage you. I shall do what I can to help you, for that is my foster daughter’s wish. Go and call on the fiend today. Make your entrance boldly and sit in the furthest seat. When she enters, answer her questions with confidence. It will do no good to fear them.”
Sigurður made his way to the ogre’s palace. He had no trouble entering, as the door was open. He followed Blákápa’s instructions, and waited for that which would come. Soon he heard a great rumbling outside so that the entire palace trembled. A large and hideous ogre entered, followed by eighteen of the same, all of them fierce in appearance. Never in his life had he seen such horrifying creatures, and the worst one was she who had entered first. She addressed Sigurður irritably, demanding to know who he was and where he was going. He said he hardly knew, that he had chanced upon this place and was thankful for it, as he thought he might rest awhile.
She asked how he might make himself useful. He replied that there was not much he could do.
“If you plan to stay here with us you must do something worthwhile,” she replied.
She then walked to the throne and took up a chessboard that was there. It was a splendid item, made from the finest gold. She said: “If you wish to stay here you must earn your keep by fetching another chessboard, in every way as good as this one.”
He replied that it would be no easy task, “Or where shall I find it?”
She replied that he would have to discover that on his own, “And remember that your head is at stake if you do not bring me the chessboard before the third sun.”
Sigurður went and found Blákápa, telling her what had transpired and about the mission that he was to undertake.
She said: “That is no easy task. The only such chessboard is owned by two dwarves who prize it highly and guard it zealously. If we are to obtain it we must slay them first. Let us go immediately.”
They made their way to the seashore. There Blákápa found a small boat which they rowed until they came to a cliff that rose straight up from the sea. Inside this cliff were the dwarves.
Using her shrewd tricks, Blákápa was able to lure the dwarves out of the cliff, and Sigurður slayed them both. Blákápa found the chessboard and brought it to Sigurður, much to his relief. He carried the chessboard to the ogre’s palace and sat down on the furthest seat, as before. On arriving and seeing Sigurður, she said: “There you are, and you will now deliver me the chessboard.”
He told her that there was no hope of that, as she had refused to tell him where to find it. At that she scowled, then summoned her cohorts and ordered them to chop him into tiny pieces. They rushed forth to fulfill her order, but at that moment Sigurður brought out the chessboard. The ogre was amazed.
“You have completed this task,” she said, “and yet we are not satisfied. To earn your keep you will have to do more.�
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She then took Sigurður to a castle. Overhead was a glass ceiling supported by four pillars, exquisitely crafted, made of pure gold.
She said: “Here is a glass ceiling held up by four gold pillars. I find the fifth pillar wanting. To earn your keep you must fetch it, and place it here. It must be crafted just like the others, otherwise you shall meet a swift death. You must do this before the third sun.”
Sigurður asked her where he should look for the pillar. She replied that he would have to discover that on his own.
He then went to Blákápa and gave her an account of these developments. “There is no end to your troubles,” she replied, “and this task is far more difficult than the last.”
She told Sigurður that he would find the pillar in a distant palace. Making haste, they arrived at the city in which the palace was located in the evening. Before they encountered anyone Blákápa gave Sigurður a magic stone that would make him invisible. She held on to another one for herself. They entered the city, hiding out in various houses until nightfall. When the city was asleep, they went in search of the pillar. Blákápa led the way, and whenever they came to a locked door she took a wand from her cloak and struck at the door with it, so that it opened. Finally they arrived at the place where the pillar stood, and Blákápa asked Sigurður to try to move it. He tried, but it would not budge.
She then took a pair of gloves from her bag, and put them on. Next she pulled the pillar out from where it stood and placed it on her shoulders, since Sigurður had not the strength to carry it. They then headed homeward, unseen. Blákápa went with Sigurður to the ogre’s palace, and with some manoeuvring was able to place the pillar where the ogre had instructed. She then went home, while Sigurður waited.
When the ogre arrived, a similar scene took place as with the chessboard.
The ogre said: “It is odd how much you can do, being so young, and I am certain that you are not alone in this game. I have ordered many men to perform this task, and none have succeeded. Yet you shall have to do more if you want to stay alive and be left in peace. I have an ox in the forest which you must slaughter in a day. No one may assist you. You must spill its blood on my tablecloth, then wash the tablecloth and return it to me white as snow. You must knead the hide, and return it to me as soft as wool. You must polish the horns, and return them to me as shiny as gold. All this you must do before the third sun. Your head is at stake.”
Icelandic Folk Legends: Tales of apparitions, outlaws and things unseen Page 6