Part 21
Then he took the cable and tied one end of it round his waist, and said:
“Now, I must go to the bottom, but when I give the cable a good tug, and want to come up again, mind you all hoist away with a will, or your lives will be lost as well as mine”; and with these words overboard he leapt, and dived down, so that the yellow waves rose round him in an eddy.
Well, he sank and sank, and at last he came to the bottom, and there he saw a great rock rising up with a door in it, so he opened the door and went in. When he got inside, he saw another Princess, who sat and sewed, but when she saw Shortshanks, she clasped her hands together and cried out:
“Now, God be thanked! you are the first Christian man I’ve set eyes on since I came here.”
“Very good”, said Shortshanks; “but do you know I’ve come to fetch you?”
“Oh!” she cried, “you’ll never fetch me; you’ll never have that luck, for if the Ogre sees you, he’ll kill you on the spot.”
“I’m glad you spoke of the Ogre”, said Shortshanks; “’twould be fine fun to see him; whereabouts is he?”
Then the Princess told him the Ogre was out looking for some one who could brew a hundred lasts of malt at one strike, for he was going to give a great feast, and less drink wouldn’t do.
“Well! I can do that”, said Shortshanks.
“Ah!” said the Princess, “if only the Ogre wasn’t so hasty, I might tell him about you; but he’s so cross; I’m afraid he’ll tear you to pieces as soon as he comes in, without waiting to hear my story. Let me see what is to be done. Oh! I have it; just hide yourself in the side-room yonder, and let us take our chance.”
Well! Shortshanks did as she told him, and he had scarce crept into the side-room before the Ogre came in.
“HUF!” said the Ogre; “what a horrid smell of Christian man’s blood!”
“Yes!” said the Princess, “I know there is, for a bird flew over the house with a Christian man’s bone in his bill, and let it fall down the chimney. I made all the haste I could to get it out again, but I dare say it’s that you smell.”
“Ah!” said the Ogre, “like enough.”
Then the Princess asked the Ogre if he had laid hold of any one who could brew a hundred lasts of malt at one strike?
“No”, said the Ogre, “I can’t hear of any one who can do it.”
“Well”, she said, “a while ago, there was a chap in here who said he could do it.”
“Just like you, with your wisdom!” said the Ogre; “why did you let him go away then, when you knew he was the very man I wanted?”
“Well then, I didn’t let him go”, said the Princess; “but father’s temper is a little hot, so I hid him away in the side-room yonder; but if father hasn’t hit upon any one, here he is.”
“Well”, said the Ogre, “let him come in then.”
So Shortshanks came in, and the Ogre asked him if it were true that he could brew a hundred lasts of malt at a strike?
“Yes it is”, said Shortshanks.
“Twas good luck then to lay hands on you”, said the Ogre, “and now fall to work this minute; but heaven help you if you don’t brew the ale strong enough.”
“Oh”, said Shortshanks, “never fear, it shall be stinging stuff”; and with that he began to brew without more fuss, but all at once he cried out:
“I must have more of you Ogres to help in the brewing, for these I have got a’nt half strong enough.”
Well, he got more—so many, that there was a whole swarm of them, and then the brewing went on bravely. Now when the sweet-wort was ready, they were all eager to taste it, you may guess; first of all the Ogre, and then all his kith and kin. But Shortshanks had brewed the wort so strong that they all fell down dead, one after another, like so many flies, as soon as they had tasted it. At last there wasn’t one of them left alive but one vile old hag, who lay bed-ridden in the chimney-corner.
“Oh you poor old wretch”, said Shortshanks, “you may just as well taste the wort along with the rest.”
So, he went and scooped up a little from the bottom of the copper in a scoop, and gave her a drink, and so he was rid of the whole pack of them.
As he stood there and looked about him, he cast his eye on a great chest, so he took it and filled it with gold and silver; then he tied the cable round himself and the Princess and the chest, and gave it a good tug, and his men pulled them all up, safe and sound. As soon as ever Shortshanks was well up, he said to the ship,
“Off and away, over fresh water and salt water, high hill and deep dale, and don’t stop till you come to the king’s palace”; and straightway the ship held on her course, so that the yellow billows foamed round her. When the people in the palace saw the ship sailing up, they were not slow in meeting them with songs and music, welcoming Shortshanks with great joy; but the gladdest of all was the king, who had now got his other daughter back again.
But now Shortshanks was rather down-hearted, for you must know that both the princesses wanted to have him, and he would have no other than the one he had first saved, and she was the youngest. So he walked up and down, and thought and thought what he should do to get her, and yet do something to please her sister. Well, one day as he was turning the thing over in his mind, it struck him if he only had his brother King Sturdy, who was so like him that no one could tell the one from the other, he would give up to him the other princess and half the kingdom, for he thought one-half was quite enough.
Well, as soon as ever this came into his mind, he went outside the palace and called on King Sturdy, but no one came. So he called a second time a little louder, but still no one came. Then he called out the third time “King Sturdy” with all his might, and there stood his brother before him. “Didn’t I say!” he said to Shortshanks, “didn’t I say you were not to call me except in your utmost need? and here there is not so much as a gnat to do you any harm”, and with that he gave him such a box on the ear that Shortshanks tumbled head over heels on the grass.
“Now shame on you to “hit so hard!” said Shortshanks. “First of all I won a princess and half the kingdom, and then I won another princess and the other half of the kingdom; and now I’m thinking to give you one of the princesses and half the kingdom. Is there any rhyme or reason in giving me such a box on the ear?”
When King Sturdy heard that, he begged his brother to forgive him, and they were soon as good friends as ever again.
“Now”, said Shortshanks, “you know, we are so much alike, that no one can tell the one from the other; so just change clothes with me and go into the palace; then the princesses will think it is I that am coming in, and the one that kisses you first you shall have for your wife, and I will have the other for mine.”
And he said this because he knew well enough that the elder king’s daughter was the stronger, and so he could very well guess how things would go. As for King Sturdy, he was willing enough, so he changed clothes with his brother and went into the palace. But when he came into the Princesses’ bower they thought it was Shortshanks, and both ran up to him to kiss him; but the elder, who was stronger and bigger, pushed her sister on one side, and threw her arms round King Sturdy’s neck, and gave him a kiss; and so he got her for his wife, and Shortshanks got the younger Princess. Then they made ready for the wedding, and you may fancy what a grand one it was, when I tell you, that the fame of it was noised abroad over seven kingdoms.
GUDBRAND ON THE HILL-SIDE
Once on a time there was a man whose name was Gudbrand; he had a farm which lay far, far away upon a hill-side, and so they called him Gudbrand on the Hill-side.
Now, you must know this man and his goodwife lived so happily together, and understood one another so well, that all the husband did the wife thought so well done there was nothing like it in the world, and she was always glad whatever he turned his hand to. The farm was their own land, and they had a hundred dollars lying at the bottom of their chest, and two cows tethered up in a stall in their farm-yard.
So one day his wife said to Gudbrand:
“Do you know, dear, I think we ought to take one of our cows into town, and sell it; that’s what I think; for then we shall have some money in hand, and such well-to-do people as we ought to have ready money like the rest of the world. As for the hundred dollars at the bottom of the chest yonder, we can’t make a hole in them, and I’m sure I don’t know what we want with more than one cow. Besides, we shall gain a little in another way, for then I shall get off with only looking after one cow, instead of having, as now, to feed and litter and water two.”
Well, Gudbrand thought his wife talked right good sense, so he set off at once with the cow on his way to town to sell her; but when he got to the town, there was no one who would buy his cow.
“Well! well! never mind”, said Gudbrand, “at the worst, I can only go back home again with my cow. I’ve both stable and tether for her, I should think, and the road is no farther out than in”; and with that he began to toddle home with his cow.
But when he had gone a bit of the way, a man met him who had a horse to sell, so Gudbrand thought ’twas better to have a horse than a cow, so he swopped with the man. A little farther on he met a man walking along and driving a fat pig before him, and he thought it better to have a fat pig than a horse, so he swopped with the man. After that he went a little farther, and a man met him with a goat; so he thought it better to have a goat than a pig, and he swopped with the man that owned the goat. Then he went on a good bit till he met a man who had a sheep, and he swopped with him too, for he thought it always better to have a sheep than a goat. After a while he met a man with a goose, and he swopped away the sheep for the goose; and when he had walked a long, long time, he met a man with a cock, and he swopped with him, for he thought in this wise, “’Tis surely better to have a cock than a goose.” Then he went on till the day was far spent, and he began to get very hungry, so he sold the cock for a shilling, and bought food with the money, for, thought Gudbrand on the Hill-side, “’Tis always better to save one’s life than to have a cock.”
After that he went on home till he reached his nearest neighbour’s house, where he turned in.
“Well”, said the owner of the house, “how did things go with you in town?”
“Rather so so”, said Gudbrand, “I can’t praise my luck, nor do I blame it either”, and with that he told the whole story from first to last.
“Ah!” said his friend, “you’ll get nicely called over the coals, that one can see, when you get home to your wife. Heaven help you, I wouldn’t stand in your shoes for something.”
“Well!” said Gudbrand on the Hill-side, “I think things might have gone much worse with me; but now, whether I have done wrong or not, I have so kind a goodwife, she never has a word to say against anything that I do.”
“Oh!” answered his neighbour, “I hear what you say, but I don’t believe it for all that.”
“Shall we lay a bet upon it?” asked Gudbrand on the Hill-side. “I have a hundred dollars at the bottom of my chest at home; will you lay as many against them?”
Yes! the friend was ready to bet; so Gudbrand stayed there till evening, when it began to get dark, and then they went together to his house, and the neighbour was to stand outside the door and listen, while the man went in to see his wife.
“Good evening!” said Gudbrand on the Hill-side.
“Good evening!” said the goodwife. “Oh! is that you? now God be praised.”
Yes! it was he. So the wife asked how things had gone with him in town?
“Oh! only so so”, answered Gudbrand; “not much to brag of. When I got to the town there was no one who would buy the cow, so you must know I swopped it away for a horse.”
“For a horse”, said his wife; “well that is good of you; thanks with all my heart. We are so well to do that we may drive to church, just as well as other people; and if we choose to keep a horse we have a right to get one, I should think. So run out, child, and put up the horse.”
“Ah!” said Gudbrand, “but you see I’ve not got the horse after all; for when I got a bit farther on the road, I swopped it away for a pig.”
“Think of that, now!” said the wife; “you did just as I should have done myself; a thousand thanks! Now I can have a bit of bacon in the house to set before people when they come to see me, that I can. What do we want with a horse? People would only say we had got so proud that we couldn’t walk to church. Go out, child, and put up the pig in the sty.”
“But I’ve not got the pig either”, said Gudbrand; “for when I got a little farther on, I swopped it away for a milch goat.”
“Bless us!” cried his wife, “how well you manage everything! Now I think it over, what should I do with a pig? People would only point at us and say, ‘Yonder they eat up all they have got.’ No! now I have got a goat, and I shall have milk and cheese, and keep the goat too. Run out, child, and put up the goat.”
“Nay, but I haven’t got the goat either”, said Gudbrand, “for a little farther on I swopped it away, and got a fine sheep instead.”
“You don’t say so!” cried his wife; “why, you do everything to please me, just as if I had been with you; what do we want with a goat? If I had it I should lose half my time in climbing up the hills to get it down. No! if I have a sheep, I shall have both wool and clothing, and fresh meat in the house. Run out, child, and put up the sheep.”
“But I haven’t got the sheep any more than the rest”, said Gudbrand; “for when I had gone a bit farther, I swopped it away for a goose.”
“Thank you! thank you! with all my heart”, cried his wife; “what should I do with a sheep? I have no spinning-wheel, nor carding-comb, nor should I care to worry myself with cutting, and shaping, and sewing clothes. We can buy clothes now, as we have always done; and now I shall have roast goose, which I have longed for so often; and, besides, down to stuff my little pillow with. Run out, child, and put up the goose.”
“Ah!” said Gudbrand, “but I haven’t the goose either; for when I had gone a bit farther I swopped it away for a cock.”
“Dear me!” cried his wife, “how you think of everything! just as I should have done myself. A cock! think of that! why it’s as good as an eight-day clock, for every morning the cock crows at four o’clock, and we shall be able to stir our stumps in good time. What should we do with a goose? I don’t know how to cook it; and as for my pillow, I can stuff it with cotton-grass. Run out, child, and put up the cock.”
“But, after all, I haven’t got the cock”, said Gudbrand; “for when I had gone a bit farther, I got as hungry as a hunter, so I was forced to sell the cock for a shilling, for fear I should starve.”
“Now, God be praised that you did so!” cried his wife; “whatever you do, you do it always just after my own heart. What should we do with the cock? We are our own masters, I should think, and can lie a-bed in the morning as long as we like. Heaven be thanked that I have got you safe back again; you who do everything so well that I want neither cock nor goose; neither pigs nor kine.”
Then Gudbrand opened the door and said; “Well, what do you say now? Have I won the hundred dollars?” and his neighbour was forced to allow that he had.
THE BLUE BELT
Once on a time there was an old beggar-woman, who had gone out to beg. She had a little lad with her, and when she had got her bag full, she struck across the hills towards her own home. So when they had gone a bit up the hill-side, they came upon a little blue belt, which lay where two paths met, and the lad asked his mother’s leave to pick it up.
“No”, said she, “maybe there’s witchcraft in it”; and so with threats she forced him to follow her. But when they had gone a bit further, the lad said he must turn aside a moment out of the road, and meanwhile his mother sat down on a tree-stump. But the lad was a long time gone, for as soon as he got so far into the wood, that the old dame could not see him, he ran off to where the belt lay, took it up, tied it round his waist, and lo! he felt as strong as if he could lift the whole hill. When he got back, the old dame was in a great rage, and wanted to know what he had been doing all that while. “You don’t care how much time you waste, and yet you know the night is drawing on, and we must cross the hill before it is dark!” So on they tramped; but when they had got about half-way, the old dame grew weary, and said she must rest under a bush.
“Dear mother”, said the lad, “mayn’t I just go up to the top of this high crag while you rest, and try if I can’t see some sign of folk hereabouts?”
Yes! he might do that; so when he had got to the top, he saw a light shining from the north. So he ran down and told his mother.
“We must get on, mother; we are near a house, for I see a bright light shining quite close to us in the north.” Then she rose and shouldered her bag, and set off to see; but they hadn’t gone far, before there stood a steep spur of the hill, right across their path.
“Just as I thought!” said the old dame; “now we can’t go a step farther; a pretty bed we shall have here!”
But the lad took the bag under one arm, and his mother under the other, and ran straight up the steep crag with them.
“Now, don’t you see! don’t you see that we are close to a house! don’t you see the bright light?”
But the old dame said those were no Christian folk, but Trolls, for she was at home in all that forest far and near, and knew there was not a living soul in it, until you were well over the ridge, and had come down on the other side. But they went on, and in a little while they came to a great house which was all painted red.
“What’s the good?” said the old dame, “we daren’t go in, for here the Trolls live.”
“Don’t say so; we must go in. There must be men where the lights shine so”, said the lad. So in he went, and his mother after him, but he had scarce opened the door before she swooned away, for there she saw a great stout man, at least twenty feet high, sitting on the bench.
“Good evening, grandfather!” said the lad.
“Well, here I’ve sat three hundred years”, said the man who sat on the bench, “and no one has ever come and called me grandfather before.” Then the lad sat down by the man’s side, and began to talk to him as if they had been old friends.
“But what’s come over your mother?” said the man, after they had chattered a while. “I think she swooned away; you had better look after her.”
So the lad went and took hold of the old dame; and dragged her up the hall along the floor. That brought her to herself, and she kicked, and scratched, and flung herself about, and at last sat down upon a heap of firewood in the corner; but she was so frightened that she scarce dared to look one in the face.
After a while, the lad asked if they could spend the night there.
“Yes, to be sure”, said the man.
So they went on talking again, but the lad soon got hungry, and wanted to know if they could get food as well as lodging.
“Of course”, said the man, “that might be got too.” And after he had sat a while longer, he rose up and threw six loads of dry pitch-pine on the fire. This made the old hag still more afraid.
“Oh! now he’s going to roast us alive”, she said, in the corner where she sat.
And when the wood had burned down to glowing embers, up got the man and strode out of his house.
“Heaven bless and help us! what a stout heart you have got”, said the old dame; “don’t you see we have got amongst Trolls?”
“Stuff and nonsense!” said the lad; “no harm if we have.”