Chapter XXIX: Section II: Orphan and Foundling Stories (1)

The Esthonians appear to be very compassionate towards orphans, for many of their tales relate to the adventures of neglected or ill-used orphan children, and the wonderful events by which their welfare was finally secured. Nevertheless, wicked stepmothers and farmers' wives are just as common as in other folk-tales.

The first story of this class which we have selected, "The Wood
of Tontla,"
[135] is specially interesting from its resemblance to Tieck's
well-known German story of "The Elves," which must originally
have been derived from the same source as the present
narrative.

With the Orphan Stories proper I have placed others relating to stolen or friendless children.

[Pg 237]

THE WOOD OF TONTLA.

( Kreutzwald .)

In ancient times there was a beautifully wooded region in
Alutaga (north of Lake Peipus), which was called the Wood of
Tontla. But no one dared to enter it, and those who had chanced
to approach it related that they had seen an old tumbledown
house through the thick trees, surrounded by creatures of human
appearance, with which the grass swarmed like an anthill. These
forms were ragged and dusky, and looked like gipsies, and there
were many old women and half-naked children among them. A
peasant who had wandered rather deeper into the wood than
usual, as he was returning home one dark night after a carouse,
beheld a strange sight. A number of women and children were
gathered round a bright fire, and some were sitting on the
ground while others danced. An old woman held a broad iron
shovel in her hand, and every now and then scattered the red
hot cinders over the grass, when the children flew up into the
air, fluttering about like owls in the rising smoke, and then
sinking
[Pg 238]
down again. Then a little old man with a long beard came out
of the wood, carrying a sack longer than himself. The women
and children shouted out, and ran to meet him, dancing round
him, and trying to pull the sack off his back; but the old man
shook himself free. After this, a black cat as large as a
foal, which had been sitting on the doorstep glaring with
fiery eyes, leaped upon the old man's sack, and then
disappeared in the cottage. But as the spectator's head ached
and everything swam before his eyes, his report was not clear,
and people could not quite distinguish between the false and
the true. It was remarkable that such stories were repeated
about the Wood of Tontla from generation to generation,
without anybody being able to give a more definite account of
it. The King of Sweden more than once ordered the wood to be
felled, but the people did not venture to execute his command.
One day a rash man struck his axe into a tree, when blood
flowed, and a cry was heard as of a man in pain.
[136] The terrified woodcutter fled, shaking all over with
fear; and after this, no command was so stringent
[Pg 239]
and no reward great enough, to induce a woodcutter to touch
the wood of Tontla. It was also very strange that no paths led
either into or out of the wood, and that throughout the year
no smoke was seen to rise which might indicate the presence of
human dwellings. The wood was not large, and it was surrounded
by open fields, so that it lay exposed to the view of all. If
living creatures had actually dwelt there from olden times,
they could only get in and out of the wood by secret
subterranean passages; or else they must fly through the air
by night, like witches, when all around were asleep. According
to tradition, the latter alternative seemed the most probable.
Perhaps we shall learn more about these strange birds if we
drive on the carriage of the story a little farther, and rest
at the next village.

There was a large village a few versts from the Wood of Tontla, where a peasant who had lately been left a widower had married a young wife, and, as often happens, he brought a regular shrew into the house, so that there was no end to the trouble and quarrelling.

The first wife had left a clever and intelligent
[Pg 240]
girl named Elsie,
[137]
who was now seven years old. The wicked stepmother made the
poor child's life more intolerable than hell; she banged and
cuffed her from morning to night, and gave her worse food than
the dogs. As the woman was mistress in the house, the father
could not protect his daughter, and even the smoke of the house
was forced to dance to the woman's tune. Elsie had now endured
this miserable life for more than two years, and had shed many
tears, when she went out one Sunday with the other village
children to pluck berries. They strolled about as children do,
till they came accidentally to the borders of the Wood of
Tontla, where the grass was quite red with the finest
strawberries. The children ate the sweet berries, and gathered
as many as they could into their baskets, when all at once one
of the older boys recognised the dreaded spot and cried out,
"Fly, fly, for we are in the Wood of Tontla!" The wood was more
dreaded than thunder and lightning, and the children rushed off
as if all the monsters of the wood were close upon their heels.
But Elsie, who had gone rather farther than the others, and had
found some very
[Pg 241]
fine strawberries under the trees, went on plucking them,
although she heard the boy shout. She only thought, "The
dwellers in the Tontla Wood cannot be worse than my stepmother
at home."

Presently a little black dog with a silver bell hung round its neck ran up to her barking. This brought a little girl dressed in fine silken garments to the spot, who quieted the dog, and said to Elsie, "It is a good thing that you did not run away like the other children. Stay with me for company, and we will play very nice games together, and go to pluck berries every day. My mother will not refuse her consent, if I ask her. Come, and we will go to her at once." Then the beautiful strange child seized Elsie by the hand, and led her deeper into the wood. The little black dog barked for pleasure now, and jumped upon Elsie and licked her hand as if she were an old acquaintance.

O what wonders and magnificence made Elsie open her eyes! She
thought herself in heaven. A beautiful garden lay before her,
filled with trees and bushes laden with fruit; birds were
sitting on the branches, more brightly coloured than the most
brilliant butterflies, and decked with feathers of
[Pg 242]
gold and silver. And the birds were not shy, but allowed the
children to take them in their hands at pleasure. In the midst
of the garden stood the dwelling-house, built of glass and
precious stones, so that the roof and walls shone like the
sun. A lady clad in beautiful robes sat on a bench before the
door, and asked her daughter, "Who is this guest you have
brought with you?" Her daughter answered, "I found her alone
in the wood, and brought her with me for company. Won't you
allow her to stay here?" The mother smiled, but did not speak,
and scanned Elsie sharply from head to foot. Then she told
Elsie to come nearer, patted her cheek, and asked in a
friendly way where she lived, whether her parents were still
alive, and if she would like to stay here. Elsie kissed the
lady's hand and fell down and embraced her knees, and then
answered, weeping, "My mother has long been at rest under the
turf—

"My mother was borne to the grave,

And none left to comfort or save.

"It is true that my father still lives, but this is small
comfort to me when my stepmother hates me, and beats me
unmercifully every day. I cannot
[Pg 243]
do anything to please her. O my dearest lady, let me stay
here! Let me mind the flocks, or set me to any other work and
I will do anything, and will be always obedient to you, but
don't send me back to my stepmother. She would beat me almost
to death, because I did not go back with the other village
children." The lady smiled, and answered, "We will see what we
can do for you." Then she rose from the bench and went into
the house. Meantime the daughter said to Elsie, "Take comfort,
for my mother is friendly to you. I can see in her face that
she will consent to our wishes as soon as she has had time to
think over the matter." She then followed her mother into the
house, leaving Elsie waiting outside. Elsie's heart palpitated
with hope and fear, and she waited anxiously for the decision
which was to be announced to her.

After a time the daughter came out again with a box of toys in
her hand, and said, "My mother says we are to play together
while she considers what is to be done about you. I hope you
will stay here, for I don't want to let you leave me again.
Have you been for a row on the lake?" Elsie stared, and asked,
"On the lake! What is
[Pg 244]
that? I never heard anything about it." "You'll see
presently," said the young lady, taking off the lid of the
box. It contained a leaf of lady's-smock, a mussel-shell, and
two fish-bones. There were a few drops of water glittering on
the leaf, which the girl threw on the grass. Immediately the
grass, the garden, and everything else vanished, as if they
had sunk in the ground, and water spread around to the horizon
in every direction. Only a small patch remained dry under the
feet of the children. Then the young lady set the shell in the
water, and took the fish-bones in her hand. The shell began to
expand, until it became a pretty boat, in which a dozen
children or more could easily have found room. The two seated
themselves in it, Elsie not without hesitation, but her
companion only laughed, and the fish-bones turned to oars in
her hands. The children were rocked by the waves as if they
were in a cradle, and presently other boats came in sight, and
the people in them were laughing and singing. "We should sing
back to them," said the young lady; but Elsie did not know how
to sing; so she herself began to sing very sweetly. Elsie
could not understand much of what the others sang, but
[Pg 245]
she heard the word Kiisike
[138] repeated several times, and asked what it meant, and her
companion answered, "That is my name." They floated thus
together for a long time, till they heard a voice crying, "Come
home, children, for it is nearly evening." Kiisike took the box
out of her pocket, and dipped the leaf in the water, so that a
few drops lay upon it. Instantly they found themselves in the
garden near the beautiful house: everything looked as firm and
solid as before, and no water was to be seen anywhere. The
shell and fish-bones were put back into the box with the leaf,
and the children went home.

Here they saw four-and-twenty ladies sitting round a dinner-table, all splendidly dressed as if for a wedding. The lady of the house sat at the head of the table in a golden chair.

Elsie's eyes did not know how to admire sufficiently all the
splendour which surrounded her. Thirteen gold and silver dishes
stood upon the table, but one of these was taken up and carried
away without the cover having been removed. Elsie ate of the
dainty dishes, which were nicer than cakes, and again she
thought she must be in
[Pg 246]
heaven, for she could not imagine anything like this on earth.

During dinner, conversation was carried on in low tones, but in
a foreign language of which Elsie did not understand a word.
[139] At length the lady spoke to a maid who stood behind her
chair. The latter went out, and soon returned accompanied by a
little old man, whose beard was longer than himself.
[140] The old man made a bow, and stood waiting at the door.
The lady pointed to Elsie, and said, "Look at this little
peasant girl; I am going to adopt her as my foster-child. Make
me an image of her, which we can send to the village to-morrow
in her stead." The old man looked at Elsie sharply, as if to
take her measure, bowed to the lady again, and left the room.
After dinner the lady said kindly to Elsie, "Kiisike has asked
me to keep you here as a companion for her, and you said
yourself that you would like to stay with us.
[Pg 247]
Is this really so?" Elsie fell on her knees, and kissed the
hands and feet of the lady in gratitude for her deliverance
from her cruel stepmother. But the lady raised her from the
ground, stroked her head and her tearful cheeks, and said, "If
you are always a good and diligent child, it shall fare well
with you. I will take care of you, and you shall be carefully
instructed in everything useful till you are grown up, and are
able to shift for yourself. My governess, who teaches Kiisike,
shall teach you all kinds of fine work, and other things
besides."

After a time the old man came back with a long trough on his
shoulder filled with clay, and a covered basket in his left
hand. He set them down on the ground, and took a piece of clay,
which he moulded into a doll. The body was hollow, and he put
three salt herrings and a bit of bread into it. Then he made a
hole in the breast of the doll, took a black snake a yard long
from the basket, and made it creep through. The snake hissed
and lashed its tail as if it resisted, but he forced it through
the hole. After the lady had carefully inspected the doll on
all sides, the old man said, "We want nothing more
[Pg 248]
now but a drop of the peasant girl's blood." Elsie turned pale
with terror when she heard this, for she thought that her soul
was sold to the Evil One. But the lady comforted her and said,
"Fear nothing. We don't want your blood for any evil purpose,
but for a good end, and for your future happiness." Then she
took a small gold needle, and pricked Elsie's arm, after which
she gave the needle to the old man, who thrust it into the
heart of the doll. Then he put the doll into the basket to
grow, and promised to show the lady the result of his work
next morning. Then they retired to rest, and a chambermaid
showed Elsie to a room where she found a soft bed ready for
her. When she opened her eyes next morning in the silken bed
with soft pillows, she found herself wearing a shift of fine
linen, and she saw rich garments lying on a chair near the
bed. Then a girl came into the room, and told Elsie to wash
herself and comb her hair, after which she dressed her from
head to foot in the fine new clothes, like the proudest Saxon
child.
[141] Nothing delighted Elsie so much as the
[Pg 249]

shoes,
[142] for until now she had always gone barefoot. Elsie thought
that no king's daughter could possess the like. She was so
delighted with the shoes that she had no time to admire the
rest of her outfit, although everything was beautiful. The poor
clothes which she had worn had been removed during the night,
for a purpose which she was afterwards to discover. They were
put on the doll, which was to be sent to the village in her
place. The doll had grown in its case during the night, and had
now become a perfect image of Elsie, and ran about like a
creature which God had made. Elsie was startled when she saw
the doll, which looked exactly like what she herself had been
yesterday. When the lady saw Elsie's alarm, she said, "Don't be
afraid, child. This clay image cannot do you any harm, and we
will send it to your stepmother, for her to beat. She may beat
it as much as she likes, for the image is as hard as stone, and
cannot feel pain. But if the wicked woman does not alter her
conduct, your image will some day punish her as she deserves."
[Pg 250]

After this, Elsie lived as happily as any spoiled Saxon child
which is rocked in a golden cradle. She had neither sorrow nor
weariness to suffer; her lessons became easier and easier every
day, and her hard life in the village seemed now no more than a
bad dream. But the more happiness she found in this new life,
the more wonderful everything appeared to her. It could not be
natural, and some mysterious power must rule over everything
here. A rock of granite stood in the enclosure about twenty
paces from the house. When meal-time approached, the old man
with the long beard went to the rock, drew a silver wand from
his bosom, and struck the rock three times, when it gave out a
clear sound. Then a large golden cock sprang out, and perched
upon the rock; and as often as he clapped his wings and crowed,
something came out of the rock. First came a long table with
covers ready laid for all the company, and the table moved into
the house of itself, as if on the wings of the wind. When the
cock crowed a second time, chairs went after the table,
followed by one dish after another. Everything leaped out of
the rock, and flew like the wind to the table. It was the same
with
[Pg 251]

bottles of mead and apples and pears; everything seemed alive,
so that no one needed to fetch and carry anything. When
everybody had eaten enough, the old man knocked on the rock a
second time with his silver wand, and then the golden cock
crowed, and the bottles, dishes, plates, chairs, and table went
back into the rock. But when the thirteenth dish came, from
which nothing was eaten, a great black cat ran after it, and
sat on the rock with the cock, till the old man carried them
away. He took the dish in his hand, the cat on his arm, and the
golden cock on his shoulder, and disappeared with them under
the rock. Not only food and drink, but everything else required
for the household, and even clothes, came out of the rock upon
the crowing of the cock. Although but little conversation was
carried on at table, and even that in a foreign language, the
lady and the governess talked and sang a great deal in the
house and garden. In time Elsie also learned to understand
almost everything, but years elapsed before she could attempt
to speak the strange language herself. One day Elsie asked
Kiisike why the thirteenth dish came to table every day,
although nobody ate anything from it; but Kiisike could not
tell her. However,
[Pg 252]
she must have asked her mother, who sent for Elsie a few days
afterwards, and talked to her very seriously. "Do not vex your
soul with useless curiosity. You would like to know why we
never eat from the thirteenth dish? Mark well, dear child;
this is the dish of hidden blessing. We dare not touch it, or
our happy life would come to an end. It would be much better,
too, for men in this world if they did not grasp avariciously
after all things without returning anything in gratitude to
the Heavenly Dispenser. Avarice is the worst fault of
mankind."
[143]

The years flew by with arrow-like swiftness, and Elsie had now
become a blooming maiden, and had learned many things which
would never have become known to her during her whole life, if
she had lived in the village. But Kiisike remained the same
little child as on the day when she first met Elsie in the
wood. The governess who lived
[Pg 253]
in the house with the lady instructed Kiisike and Elsie for
some hours daily in reading and writing, and in all kinds of
fine work. Elsie learned everything easily, but Kiisike had
more taste for childish games than for her lessons. When the
whim took her, she threw her work away, caught up her little
box, and ran out of doors to play on the lake, and nobody
scolded her. Sometimes she said to Elsie, "It's a pity you've
grown so big: you can't play with me any longer."

Nine years passed in this way, and one evening the lady sent
for Elsie to come to her room. This surprised Elsie, for the
lady had never sent for her before; and her heart beat almost
to bursting. When Elsie entered, she saw that the lady's cheeks
were red, and her eyes were filled with tears, which she
hastily wiped away as if to hide them. "My dear child," said
the lady, "the time has come when we must part." "Part!"
exclaimed Elsie, throwing herself at the lady's feet. "No, dear
lady, we must never part till death shall separate us. I have
always behaved well; don't drive me from you." But the lady
said soothingly, "Calm yourself, child. You do not yet know how
much it will increase your happiness. You are now grown up, and
I
[Pg 254]
must not keep you here any longer in confinement. You must go
back among mankind, where happiness awaits you." Elsie still
besought her, "Dear lady, don't send me away; I wish for no
other happiness than to live and die with you. Let me be your
chambermaid, or give me any other work to do that you like,
only don't send me out into the wide world again. It would
have been better for you to have left me with my stepmother in
the village than for me to have spent so many years in heaven
only to be thrust out again into hell." "Be still, dear
child," said the lady. "You cannot understand what it is my
duty to do for your good, hard as it is for me also. But
everything must be done as I direct. You are a child of mortal
man,
[144]
and your years must come at length to an end, and therefore you
cannot remain here any longer. I myself and those around me
possess human forms, but we are not human beings like you, but
beings of a higher order, whom you cannot comprehend. You will
find a beloved husband
[Pg 255]
far away from here, who is destined for you, and you will live
happily with him, until your days draw to a close. It is not
easy for me to part with you, but so it must be, and therefore
you must also submit quietly." Then she passed her golden comb
through Elsie's hair and told her to go to bed. But how should
poor Elsie sleep this unhappy night? Her life seemed like a
dark starless night-sky.

We will leave Elsie in her trouble, and go to the village to
see what is taking place at her father's house, to which the
clay image was sent for the stepmother to beat in Elsie's
stead. It is well known that a wicked woman does not improve
with age. It sometimes happens that a wild youth becomes a
quiet lamb in his old age; but if a girl whose heart is bad
assumes the matron's cap, she becomes like a raging wolf in her
old days. The stepmother tortured the clay image like a
firebrand from hell both day and night, but she could not hurt
the impassive creature, whose body was impervious to pain. If
the husband endeavoured to protect his child, she beat him too,
as a reward for his attempts at peace-making. One day the
stepmother had again
[Pg 256]
beaten her clay daughter terribly, and threatened to kill her.
In her fury she seized the clay image by the throat with both
hands, and was going to strangle it, when a black snake glided
hissing from the child's mouth and bit the stepmother in the
tongue, so that she fell dead without uttering a sound. When
the husband returned home in the evening, he found the dead
and swollen body of his wife lying on the floor, but his
daughter was nowhere to be found. He cried out, and some of
the villagers assembled. They had heard a great noise in the
house about noon, but as this was an almost daily occurrence,
no one had gone in. In the afternoon all was quiet, but no one
had seen the daughter. The body of the dead woman was washed
and shrouded, and peas were boiled in salt for those who
should watch the dead during the night.
[145] The weary man went to his room to rest, and sincerely
thanked his stars that he was rid of this firebrand from hell.
He found three salt herrings and a piece of bread on the table,
which he ate, and then went to bed. Next morning he was found
dead in bed, with his body swollen up like that of the woman. A
few days
[Pg 257]
afterwards they were carried to the grave, where they could do
each other no more harm. The peasants troubled themselves no
further concerning the vanished daughter.

Elsie did not close her eyes all night. She wept and lamented
the necessity of parting with her happiness so soon and so
unexpectedly. In the morning the lady placed a gold seal-ring
on Elsie's finger, and hung a small golden casket round her
neck. Then she called the old man, pointed to Elsie with her
hand, and took leave of her in the same gesture. Elsie was just
going to thank her for her kindness, when the old man touched
her head gently three times with his silver wand. Elsie felt
immediately that she was changed into a bird. Her arms became
wings, and her legs became eagle's legs with long claws, and
her nose became a curved beak, while feathers covered her whole
body. Then she rose up suddenly into the air, and soared away
below the clouds like an eagle hatched from the egg. She flew
southwards thus for several days, and would gladly have rested
sometimes when her wings grew weary, but she felt no hunger. It
came to pass one day that she was flying above a low wood where
dogs were
[Pg 258]
barking, which could not harm the bird, for they had no wings.
All at once she felt her feathers pierced through with a sharp
arrow, and she fell to the ground and fainted with terror.

When Elsie awoke from her swoon and opened her eyes wide, she
found herself lying under a bush in her human shape. How she
came there, and all the other strange events which had happened
to her, lay behind her like a dream. Presently a handsome young
prince rode up, sprang from his horse, and gave his hand kindly
to Elsie, saying, "By good fortune I rode here this morning. I
have dreamed, dear lady, every night for the last half-year
that I should find you here in the wood. Although I have ridden
this way to no purpose more than a hundred times, my longing
and my hopes were not extinguished. I shot a great eagle
to-day, which must have fallen here, and I went to seek the
game, and instead of the eagle I found—you!" Then he helped
Elsie to mount the horse, and rode with her to the town, where
the old king gave her a friendly reception. A few days
afterwards they prepared a splendid wedding; and on the wedding
morning fifty loads of treasure arrived, which had been sent by
Elsie's dear foster-mother.
[Pg 259]
After the old king's death, Elsie became queen, and in her old
age she herself related the adventures of her youth. But since
that time no one has ever seen or heard any more of the Wood
of Tontla.

The King of the Misty Hill (Kreutzwald) is a somewhat similar,
but very inferior story. A girl who is out in a wood all night
sees a fire on a hill, and finds an old man standing by it. He
had a long grey beard, and only one eye, and wore an iron
helmet. He threw it on the ground, when two girls appeared, and
the village child stayed with them till morning, when a young
woman gave her a brooch which would enable her to return to the
Misty Hill whenever she pleased. On reaching home, she found
she had been absent seven years. On the first opportunity she
returned to the hill by night, and her friend who had given her
the brooch told her that the old man was the King of the Misty
Hill, and the consort of the Meadow Queen, and she was their
daughter. The girl continued her nightly visits to the Misty
Hill; but after her mar
[Pg 260]
riage, her husband discovered her disappearance, and taking her
for a were-wolf, tried to burn her; but the King of the Misty
Hill carried her away to his dwelling uninjured.

In the story of "The Orphan's Handmill" (Kreutzwald), a compassionate magician from Finland in the guise of a beggar enables an ill-used and overworked orphan girl to obtain a wonderful handmill in a chest, which he forbids her to open, but which grinds all the corn poured into it, without any labour on her part. Her mistress sends her to church, intending to discover the secret of the chest, and then to drive her away and keep the chest; but when she raises the lid, a bright flame bursts from the chest which burns her to ashes. Shortly afterwards, the girl's master marries the orphan, when the chest, having done its work, vanishes, leaving no trace, it having been carried away to the underground kingdom from which the girl had brought it in a vision, with the aid of the white horse (or mare), which always figures as an inhabitant of Põrgu.

[Pg 261]

THE ORPHAN BOY AND THE HELL-HOUNDS.
[146]

( Kreutzwald .)

Once upon a time there lived a poor labourer and his wife, who
dragged on a wretched existence from day to day. They had three
children, but only the youngest survived. He was a boy of nine
years old when he buried first his father and then his mother,
and he had no other resource than to beg his bread from door to
door. A year afterwards he happened to come to the house of a
rich farmer just when they wanted a herdboy. The farmer himself
was not such a bad man to deal with, but his wife had control
of everything, and she was a regular brute. It may easily be
imagined how much the poor orphan boy suffered. The blows that
he received daily were three times more than sufficient, but he
never got enough bread to eat. But as the orphan had nothing
[Pg 262]
better to look forward to, he was forced to endure his misery.

One day the poor boy had the misfortune to lose a cow from the
herd. He ran about the forest till sundown from one place to
another, but could not find the lost cow; and although he well
knew what awaited him when he reached home, he was at last
obliged to gather the herd together without the missing cow.
The sun had not set long when he already heard the voice of his
mistress shouting, "You lazy dog, where are you dawdling with
the herd?" He could not wait longer, but was forced to hurry
home to the stick. It was already growing dusk when the herd
arrived at the gate, but the sharp eyes of the mistress had
already discovered that one cow was missing. Without saying a
word, she snatched the first stake from the fence, and began to
belabour the boy, as if she would beat him to a jelly. She was
in such a rage that she would certainly have beaten him to
death, or made him a cripple for life, if the farmer, hearing
his cries and sobs, had not compassionately come to his aid.
But as he knew the temper of the furious woman, he would not
venture to interfere directly, but sought to
[Pg 263]
soften her, and said beseechingly, "Don't beat the boy quite
to pieces, or he won't be able to look for the lost cow. We
shall get more profit out of him if you don't quite kill him."
"True enough," said the woman, "his carrion won't be worth as
much as the good beef." Then she gave him a few more good
whacks, and packed him off to look for the cow, saying, "If
you come back without the cow, I'll beat you to death." The
boy ran from the door sobbing and crying, and went back to the
forest where he had been with the herd in the daytime, and
searched all night, but could not find a trace of the cow
anywhere. But when the sun rose next morning, he made up his
mind what to do. "Whatever may happen to me," he said, "I
won't go back again." Then he made a start, and ran straight
forward at one stretch, till he had left the house far behind
him. He himself could not tell how far he ran before his
strength failed, and he sank down half dead when it was
already almost noon. When at length he awoke from a long heavy
sleep, he felt something cool in his mouth, and on opening his
eyes, he saw a little old man with a long grey beard putting
[Pg 264]
the ladle back into a milk-can. "Please give me a little more
to drink," said the boy. "You have had enough for to-day,"
answered the old man. "If I had not been passing this way by
accident, you would have slept your last sleep, for you were
already half dead when I found you." Then the old man asked
the boy whence he came and whither he was going. The boy
related everything that had happened to him, as far back as he
could remember, down to last night's beating. The old man
listened attentively to the story, but without interrupting,
and after a while he remarked, "My dear child, you have fared
neither better nor worse than many others whose dear friends
and protectors lie beneath the sod. As you have run away, you
must seek your fortune elsewhere in the world. But as I have
neither house nor farm, nor wife nor child, I cannot do
anything to help you but give you good advice gratis. Sleep
here quietly through the night, and to-morrow morning note
carefully the exact spot where the sun rises. You must proceed
in that direction, so that the sun shines in your face every
morning, and on your back every evening. Every day you will
feel stronger, and after seven years you will see a
[Pg 265]
great mountain before you, so high that its summit reaches to
the clouds. There you will find your future fortune. Take my
wallet and my flask, and you will find as much food and drink
in them as you require each day. But take care always to leave
a crumb of bread and a drop of liquid untouched, or else your
store of food will fail you.
[147] You may give freely to a hungry bird or to a thirsty
animal, for God is pleased when one of His creatures is kind to
another. You will find a folded plantain-leaf at the bottom of
the wallet, which you must take the greatest care of. When you
come to a river or lake on your journey, spread the leaf on the
water, and it will immediately change into a boat which will
carry you over to the other side. Then fold the leaf together
again, and put it into your wallet." After thus speaking, he
gave the wallet and the flask to the boy, and said, "God bless
[Pg 266]
you!" The next moment he had vanished from the boy's eyes.

The boy would have supposed it to be all a dream, if he had not
held the wallet and flask in his hand to convince him that it
was a reality. He then looked into the wallet, where he found
half a loaf, a small case of salt herrings, another of butter,
and a nice piece of bacon. When the boy had eaten enough, he
lay down to sleep, with the wallet and flask under his head, so
that no thief should be able to take them from him. Next
morning at sunrise he awoke, refreshed himself with food and
drink, and then set out on his journey. It was strange that he
felt no weariness, and only hunger made him aware that it was
nearly noon. He ate the good fare with relish, took a nap, and
travelled on. He found that he had taken the right course when
the sun set behind his back. He travelled for many days in the
same direction, when he arrived on the bank of a small lake.
Now he had an opportunity of testing the properties of the
leaf. All befell as the old man had foretold, for a small boat
with oars lay before him on the water. He stepped in, and a few
good strokes of the oars
[Pg 267]
landed him on the other side. Then the boat changed back into
a leaf, and he put it into his wallet.

Thus the boy travelled for several years, without the
provisions in his flask and wallet failing. Seven years may
well have passed, for he had now become a strong youth, when
one day he beheld afar off a lofty mountain which seemed to
reach the clouds. But a whole week more passed before he could
reach its foot. Then he sat down to rest, and to see whether
the predictions of the old man would be accomplished. He had
not sat there very long when a strange hissing fell upon his
ear, and immediately afterwards an enormous serpent appeared,
at least twelve fathoms long, which came quite close to the
young man. Horror seized him, and he was unable to move, but
the serpent passed by him in a moment. Then all was still
awhile, but afterwards it seemed to him as if something heavy
was moving along in sudden leaps. This proved to be a great
toad,
[148] as large as a foal of two years old. This ugly creature
also passed by without taking any notice of the youth. Then he
heard a rushing
[Pg 268]
noise above him, as if a great storm had arisen, and when he
looked up, he saw a great eagle flying over his head in the
direction which the serpent and the toad had taken. "These are
queer things to bring me good fortune," thought the youth.
Suddenly he beheld a man on a black horse riding towards him.
The horse seemed to have wings to his feet, for he flew like
the wind. When the man saw the youth sitting at the foot of
the mountain, he reined in his horse and asked, "Who has
passed by here?" The youth answered, "First of all a great
serpent, perhaps twelve fathoms long, then a toad as large as
a two-year-old foal, and lastly a great eagle high above my
head. I could not guess at his size, but the sound of his
wings was like that of a tempest." "You have seen well,"
answered the stranger. "These are my worst enemies, and I am
now in pursuit of them. I might take you into my service, if
you have nothing better in view. Climb over the mountain, and
you will come straight to my house. I shall be there as soon
as you, if not sooner." The young man promised to come, and
the stranger rode away like the wind.
[Pg 269]

The youth did not find it easy to climb the mountain. It was
three days before he could reach the summit, and three days
more before he reached the foot of the mountain on the opposite
side. His new acquaintance was standing in front of his house,
and he informed him that he had succeeded in killing the
serpent and the toad, but that he had not been able to reach
the eagle. Then he asked the young man if he was willing to
engage himself as his servant. "You can have as much good food
as you want every day, and I will give you liberal wages too,
if you will do your duty faithfully." The bargain was struck,
and the master took his new servant into the house, and showed
him what he had to do. A cellar was hewn in the rock, and
closed with threefold doors of iron. "My savage dogs are
chained in this cellar," said the master, "and you must take
care that they do not dig their way out under the door with
their paws. For know that if one of these savage dogs got
loose, it would no longer be possible to restrain the others,
for each would follow the other and destroy everything which
lives upon the earth. If the last dog should break out, the end
of the world would come, and the
[Pg 270]
sun would have shone for the last time." Then he led his
servant to a hill which was not created by God, but heaped
together by human hands from immense blocks of stone.

"These stones," said the master, "have been heaped together so that a fresh stone can always be rolled up as often as the dogs dig out a hole. I will show you the oxen which drag the stones, in the stall, and instruct you about everything else which you have to attend to."

In the stall were a hundred black oxen, each of which had seven
horns, and they were fully as large as the largest oxen of the
Ukraine.
[149]
"Six yoke of oxen harnessed before the waggon will drag a stone
easily away. I will give you a crowbar, and when you touch the
stone with it, it will roll into the waggon of itself. You see
that your work is not very laborious, but your vigilance must
be great in proportion. You must look to the door three times
during the day, and once at night, lest any misfortune should
happen, for the mischief might be much greater than you would
be able to answer for to me."
[Pg 271]

Our friend soon comprehended his duties, and his new occupation was just to his taste. Each day he had the best of everything to eat and drink that a man could wish for. After two or three months the dogs had scratched a hole under the door large enough to put their tails out; but a stone was immediately rolled against the breach, and the dogs were forced to begin their work afresh.

Many years passed by, and the young man had accumulated a good store of money. Then the desire awoke in him to mingle with other men again, for it was so long since he had seen any human face except his master's. Although his master was kind, the young man found the time terribly long, especially when his master took the fancy to have a long sleep. At such times he slept for seven weeks at a stretch, without interruption, and without showing himself.

It chanced that the master had fallen into one of his deep
slumbers, when one day a great eagle descended on the hill of
stones and began to speak. "Are you not a great fool to
sacrifice your pleasant life to good living? The money which
you have saved is quite useless to you, for
[Pg 272]

there are no men here who require it. Take your master's swift
horse from the stable, bind your bag of money to his neck, leap
on his back, and ride away in the direction in which the sun
sets, and after some weeks you will again find yourself among
men. But you must bind the horse fast with an iron chain, so
that he cannot run away, or he would return to his usual
haunts, and your master would come to fight with you; but if he
is without the horse, he cannot leave the place." "But who will
watch the dogs here, if I go away while my master sleeps?"
asked the young man. "A fool you are, and a fool you will
remain," replied the eagle. "Are you not yet aware that God has
created him for the express purpose of guarding the
hell-hounds? It is from sheer laziness that he sleeps for seven
weeks at a stretch. When he has no stranger as a servant, he
will be obliged to rouse himself and do his own work himself."

This advice delighted the young man. He followed the counsel of
the eagle, took the horse, bound the bag of gold on his neck,
leaped on his back, and rode away. He had not ridden very far
from the mountain when he heard his master
[Pg 273]
calling after him, "Stop, stop! Take your money and begone in
God's name, but leave me my horse!" The youth paid no heed,
but rode away, and after some weeks he found himself once more
among mortal men. Then he built himself a nice house, married
a young wife, and lived happily as a rich man. If he is not
dead, he must be still living, but the wind-swift horse died
long ago.

Of the next story we give only an abstract. It will be remembered that Linda was hatched from an egg, while the later adventures of the princess in the following tale resemble those of Cinderella.

THE EGG-BORN PRINCESS.

( Kreutzwald .)

Like many others, this story begins with a childless queen
whose husband is absent at the wars. She is visited by an old
woman on crutches, who gives her a little box of birch-bark
containing a bird's egg, and tells her to foster it in her
bosom for three months, till a live doll like a human infant is
hatched from it. This was to be kept in
[Pg 274]
a woollen basket till it had grown to the size of a new-born
child. It would not require food or drink, but the basket must
be kept in a warm place. Nine months after the doll's birth,
the queen herself would give birth to a son, and the king was
to proclaim that God had sent the royal parents a son and
daughter. The queen was to suckle the prince herself, but to
procure a nurse for the princess; and when the children were
christened, the old woman wished to be their godmother, and
gave the queen a bird's feather with which to summon her. The
matter was to be kept secret. Then the old woman departed, but
as she went, she grew suddenly young, and seemed to fly rather
than to walk.

A fortnight afterwards the king returned victorious, and the queen was encouraged to hope for the best. In three months' time, a doll, half a finger long, was hatched from the egg, and all came to pass as the old woman had foretold. On the christening day, the queen opened one of the windows and cast out the feather.

When all the guests were assembled, a grand carriage drove up,
drawn by six yolk-coloured horses, and a young lady stepped out
in rose-
[Pg 275]
coloured gold-embroidered silken robes, which shone with
sunlike radiance, though the face of the lady was concealed by
a fine veil. She removed it on entering, when all agreed that
she was the fairest maiden they had ever seen in their lives.
She took the princess in her arms, and named her Rebuliina,
[150] which puzzled everybody. A noble lord stood sponsor for
the prince, who was named Villem. The godmother then gave the
queen many instructions concerning the rearing of the children,
and told her to keep the box with the eggshells always beside
them in the cradle, to ward off evil from them. Then she took
her leave, and the queen gave out that she was a great princess
from a foreign country.

The children throve, and the nurse observed that a strange lady
sometimes came to gaze on the princess by night. Two years
afterwards the queen fell sick, and gave over the princess to
the charge of the nurse, directing her, under oath of secrecy,
to fasten the talisman round the neck of the child when she was
ten years old. She then sent for the king, and begged him to
let the nurse
[Pg 276]
remain with the princess as long as the princess herself
wished it, and after this she expired.

The king then brought home the inevitable cruel stepmother, who
could not endure the sight of the children. When the princess
was ten years old, her nurse put the talisman round her neck,
but the thoughtless girl stowed it away with some other relics
of her mother, and forgot it till a year or two afterwards,
when the king was absent, and her stepmother cruelly beat her.
She ran crying into the house, and looked in the box, but
rinding only a handful of wool and two empty eggshells in the
box, threw them out of the window, along with a small feather
which was under the wool. Immediately her godmother stood
before her, and soothed and comforted her. She charged her to
submit to her stepmother's tyranny, but always to carry the
talisman in her bosom, for then no one could injure her, and
when she was grown up, her stepmother would have no further
power over her. The feather, too, would summon her godmother
whenever she needed her. The lady then took the girl into the
garden, pronounced a spell over the little box, and fetched out
supper from it, teaching
[Pg 277]
the princess the spell by which she could obtain what she
needed from it. But after this time her stepmother grew much
more friendly to her.

The princess grew up a peerless maiden; but at length war broke
out, and the royal city, and even the palace, were in such
straits that Rebuliina summoned her godmother to her aid; but
she told her that though she could rescue her, the rest must
abide their fate. She then led her invisibly out of the city
through the besieging army, and next day the city was taken.
The prince escaped, but the king and his household were made
prisoners, and the queen was slain by a hostile spear. The
princess was changed by her godmother into a peasant maiden,
and instructed to wait for better times, when she could resume
her former appearance with the aid of the casket. After
wandering alone for some days, the princess reached a district
unravaged by war, and engaged herself as maid at a farm-house.
She did her work admirably with the aid of the casket, and
after a time attracted the notice of a noble lady who was
passing through the village, who asked her to enter her
service. Six months afterwards came news that the prince had
driven out the enemy with the aid of an army from abroad,
[Pg 278]
and had been proclaimed king, the old king having died in
prison in the meantime.