Part 31

“Oh! but it might be done, perhaps”, said Dapplegrim. “I’ll help you through; but you must first have me well shod. You must go and ask for ten pound of iron and twelve pound of steel for the shoes, and one smith to hammer and another to hold.”

Yes, the lad did that, and got for answer “Yes!” He got both the iron and the steel, and the smiths, and so Dapplegrim was shod both strong and well, and off went the lad from the court-yard in a cloud of dust.

But when he came to the hill into which the Princess had been carried, the pinch was how to get up the steep wall of rock where the Troll’s cave was, in which the Princess had been hid. For you must know the hill stood straight up and down right on end, as upright as a house-wall, and as smooth as a sheet of glass.

The first time the lad went at it he got a little way up; but then Dapple’s fore-legs slipped, and down they went again, with a sound like thunder on the hill.

The second time he rode at it he got some way further up; but then one fore-leg slipped, and down they went with a crash like a landslip.

But the third time Dapple said:

“Now we must show our mettle”; and went at it again till the stones flew heaven-high about them, and so they got up.

Then the lad rode right into the cave at full speed, and caught up the Princess, and threw her over his saddle-bow and out and down again before the Troll had time even to get on his legs; and so the Princess was freed.

When the lad came back to the palace, the king was both happy and glad to get his daughter back; that you may well believe; but somehow or other, though I don’t know how, the others about the court had so brought it about that the king was angry with the lad after all.

“Thanks you shall have for freeing my Princess”, said he to the lad, when he brought the Princess into the hall, and made his bow.

“She ought to be mine as well as yours; for you’re a word-fast man, I hope”, said the lad.

“Aye, aye!” said the king, “have her you shall, since I said it; but first of all, you must make the sun shine into my palace hall.”

Now, you must know there was a high steep ridge of rock close outside the windows, which threw such a shade over the hall that never a sunbeam shone into it.

“That wasn’t in our bargain”, answered the lad; “but I see this is past praying against; I must e’en go and try my luck, for the Princess I must and will have.”

So down he went to Dapple, and told him what the king wanted, and Dapplegrim thought it might easily be done, but first of all he must be new shod; and for that ten pound of iron, and twelve pound of steel besides, were needed, and two smiths, one to hammer and the other to hold, and then they’d soon get the sun to shine into the palace hall.

So when the lad asked for all these things, he got them at once—the king couldn’t say nay for very shame; and so Dapplegrim got new shoes, and such shoes! Then the lad jumped upon his back, and off they went again; and for every leap that Dapplegrim gave, down sank the ridge fifteen ells into the earth, and so they went on till there was nothing left of the ridge for the king to see.

When the lad got back to the king’s palace, he asked the king if the Princess were not his now; for now no one could say that the sun didn’t shine into the hall. But then the others set the king’s back up again, and he answered the lad should have her of course, he had never thought of anything else; but first of all he must get as grand a horse for the bride to ride on to church as the bridegroom had himself.

The lad said the king hadn’t spoken a word about this before, and that he thought he had now fairly earned the Princess; but the king held to his own; and more, if the lad couldn’t do that he should lose his life; that was what the king said. So the lad went down to the stable in doleful dumps, as you may well fancy, and there he told Dapplegrim all about it; how the king had laid that task on him, to find the bride as good a horse as the bridegroom had himself, else he would lose his life.

“But that’s not so easy”, he said, “for your match isn’t to be found in the wide world.”

“Oh yes, I have a match”, said Dapplegrim; “but ’tisn’t so easy to find him, for he abides in Hell. Still we’ll try. And now you must go up to the king and ask for new shoes for me, ten pound of iron, and twelve pound of steel; and two smiths, one to hammer and one to hold; and mind you see that the points and ends of these shoes are sharp; and twelve sacks of rye, and twelve sacks of barley, and twelve slaughtered oxen, we must have with us; and mind, we must have the twelve ox-hides, with twelve hundred spikes driven into each; and, let me see, a big tar-barrel—that’s all we want.”

So the lad went up to the king and asked for all that Dapplegrim had said, and the king again thought he couldn’t say nay, for shame’s sake, and so the lad got all he wanted.

Well, he jumped up on Dapplegrim’s back, and rode away from the palace, and when he had ridden far far over hill and heath, Dapple asked:

“Do you hear anything?”

“Yes, I hear an awful hissing and rustling up in the air,” said the lad; “I think I’m getting afraid.”

“That’s all the wild birds that fly through the wood. They are sent to stop us; but just cut a hole in the corn-sacks, and then they’ll have so much to do with the corn, they’ll forget us quite.”

Yes! the lad did that; he cut holes in the corn-sacks, so that the rye and barley ran out on all sides. Then all the wild birds that were in the wood came flying round them so thick that the sunbeams grew dark; but as soon as they saw the corn, they couldn’t keep to their purpose, but flew down and began to pick and scratch at the rye and barley, and after that they began to fight among themselves. As for Dapplegrim and the lad, they forgot all about them, and did them no harm.

So the lad rode on and on—far far over mountain and dale, over sand-hills and moor. Then Dapplegrim began to prick up his ears again, and at last he asked the lad if he heard anything?

“Yes! now I hear such an ugly roaring and howling in the wood all round, it makes me quite afraid.”

“Ah!” said Dapplegrim, “that’s all the wild beasts that range through the wood, and they’re sent out to stop us. But just cast out the twelve carcasses of the oxen, that will give them enough to do, and so they’ll forget us outright.”

Yes! the lad cast out the carcasses, and then all the wild beasts in the wood, both bears, and wolves, and lions—all fell beasts of all kinds—came after them. But when they saw the carcasses, they began to fight for them among themselves till blood flowed in streams; but Dapplegrim and the lad they quite forgot.

So the lad rode far away, and they changed the landscape many many times, for Dapplegrim didn’t let the grass grow under him, as you may fancy. At last Dapple gave a great neigh.

“Do you hear anything?” he said.

“Yes, I hear something like a colt neighing loud, a long long way off”, answered the lad.

“That’s a full-grown colt then”, said Dapplegrim, “if we hear him neigh so loud such a long way off.”

After that they travelled a good bit, changing the landscape once or twice, maybe. Then Dapplegrim gave another neigh.

“Now listen, and tell me if you hear anything”, he said.

“Yes, now I hear a neigh like a full-grown horse”, answered the lad.

“Aye! aye!” said Dapplegrim, “you’ll hear him once again soon, and then you’ll hear he’s got a voice of his own.”

So they travelled on and on, and changed the landscape once or twice, perhaps, and then Dapplegrim neighed the third time; but before he could ask the lad if he heard anything, something gave such a neigh across the heathy hill-side, the lad thought hill and rock would surely be rent asunder.

“Now, he’s here!” said Dapplegrim; “make haste, now, and throw the ox hides, with the spikes in them, over me, and throw down the tar-barrel on the plain; then climb up into that great spruce-fir yonder. When it comes fire will flash out of both nostrils, and then the tar-barrel will catch fire. Now, mind what I say. If the flame rises, I win; if it falls, I lose; but if you see me winning take and cast the bridle—you must take it off me—over its head, and then it will be tame enough.”

So just as the lad had done throwing the ox hides, with the spikes, over Dapplegrim, and had cast down the tar-barrel on the plain, and had got well up into the spruce-fir, up galloped a horse, with fire flashing out of his nostrils, and the flame caught the tar-barrel at once. Then Dapplegrim and the strange horse began to fight till the stones flew heaven high. They fought and bit, and kicked, both with fore-feet and hind-feet, and sometimes the lad could see them, and sometimes he couldn’t; but at last the flame began to rise; for wherever the strange horse kicked or bit, he met the spiked hides, and at last he had to yield. When the lad saw that, he wasn’t long in getting down from the tree, and in throwing the bridle over its head, and then it was so tame you could hold it with a pack-thread.

And what do you think? that horse was dappled too, and so like Dapplegrim, you couldn’t tell which was which. Then the lad bestrode the new Dapple he had broken, and rode home to the palace, and old Dapplegrim ran loose by his side. So when he got home, there stood the king out in the yard.

“Can you tell me now”, said the lad, “which is the horse I have caught and broken, and which is the one I had before. If you can’t, I think your daughter is fairly mine.”

Then the king went and looked at both Dapples, high and low, before and behind, but there wasn’t a hair on one which wasn’t on the other as well. “No”, said the king, “that I can’t; and since you’ve got my daughter such a grand horse for her wedding, you shall have her with all my heart. But still, we’ll have one trial more, just to see whether you’re fated to have her. First, she shall hide herself twice, and then you shall hide yourself twice. If you can find out her hiding-place, and she can’t find out yours, why then you’re fated to have her, and so you shall have her.”

“That’s not in the bargain either”, said the lad; “but we must just try, since it must be so”; and so the Princess went off to hide herself first.

So she turned herself into a duck, and lay swimming on a pond that was close to the palace. But the lad only ran down to the stable, and asked Dapplegrim what she had done with herself.

“Oh, you only need to take your gun”, said Dapplegrim, “and go down to the brink of the pond, and aim at the duck which lies swimming about there, and she’ll soon show herself.”

So the lad snatched up his gun and ran off to the pond. “I’ll just take a pop at this duck”, he said, and began to aim at it.

“Nay, nay, dear friend, don’t shoot. It’s I”, said the Princess.

So he had found her once.

The second time the Princess turned herself into a loaf of bread, and laid herself on the table among four other loaves; and so like was she to the others, no one could say which was which.

But the lad went again down to the stable to Dapplegrim, and said how the Princess had hidden herself again, and he couldn’t tell at all what had become of her.

“Oh, just take and sharpen a good bread-knife”, said Dapplegrim,” and do as if you were going to cut in two the third loaf on the left hand of those four loaves which are lying on the dresser in the king’s kitchen, and you’ll find her soon enough.”

Yes! the was down in the kitchen in no time, and began to sharpen the biggest bread-knife he could lay hands on; then he caught hold of the third loaf on the left hand, and put the knife to it, as though he was going to cut it in two. I’ll just have a slice off this loaf”, he said,

Nay, dear friend”, said the Princess, “don’t cut. It’s I” So he had found her twice.

Then he was to go and hide; but he and Dapplegrim had settled it all so well beforehand, it wasn’t easy to find him. First he turned himself into a tick, and hid himself in Dapplegrim’s left nostril; and the Princess went about hunting him everywhere, high and low; at last she wanted to go into Dapplegrim’s stall, but he began to bite and kick, so that she daren’t go near him, and so she couldn’t find the lad.

“Well”, she said, “since I can’t find you, you must show where you are yourself”; and in a trice the lad stood there on the stable floor.

The second time Dapplegrim told him again what to do; and then he turned himself into a clod of earth, and stuck himself between Dapple’s hoof and shoe on the near forefoot. So the Princess hunted up and down, out and in, everywhere; at last she came into the stable, and wanted to go into Dapplegrim’s loose-box. This time he let her come up to him, and she pried high and low, but under his hoofs she couldn’t come, for he stood firm as a rock on his feet, and so she couldn’t find the lad.

“Well; you must just show yourself, for I’m sure I can’t find you”, said the Princess, and as she spoke the lad stood by her side on the stable floor.

“Now you are mine indeed”, said the lad; “for now you can see I’m fated to have you.” This he said both to the father and daughter.

“Yes; it is so fated”, said the king; “so it must be.” Then they got ready the wedding in right down earnest, and lost no time about it; and the lad got on Dapplegrim, and the Princess on Dapplegrim’s match, and then you may fancy they were not long on their way to the church.

FARMER WEATHERSKY

Once on a time there was a man and his wife, who had an only son, and his name was Jack. The old dame thought it high time for her son to go out into the world to learn a trade, and bade her husband be off with him.

“But all you do”, she said, “mind you bind him to some one who can teach him to be master above all masters”; and with that she put some food and a roll of tobacco into a bag, and packed them off.

Well! they went to many masters; but one and all said they could make the lad as good as themselves, but better they couldn’t make him. So when the man came home again to his wife with that answer, she said:

“I don’t care what you make of him; but this I say and stick to, you must bind him to some one where he can learn to be master above all masters”; and with that she packed up more food and another roll of tobacco, and father and son had to be off again.

Now when they had walked a while they got upon the ice, and there they met a man who came whisking along in a sledge, and drove a black horse.

“Whither away?” said the man.

“Well!” said the father, “I’m going to bind my son to some one who is good to teach him a trade; but my old dame comes of such fine folk, she will have him taught to be master above all masters.”

“Well met then”, said the driver; “I’m just the man for your money, for I’m looking out for such an apprentice. Up with you behind!” he added to the lad, and whisk! off they went, both of them, and sledge and horse, right up into the air.

“Nay, nay!” cried the lad’s father, “you haven’t told me your name, nor where you live.”

“Oh!” said the master, “I’m at home alike north and south, and east and west, and my name’s _Farmer Weathersky_. In a year and a day you may come here again, and then I’ll tell you if I like him.” So away they went through the air, and were soon out of sight.

So when the man got home, his old dame asked what had become of her son.

“Well”, said the man, “Heaven knows, I’m sure I don’t. They went up aloft”; and so he told her what had happened. But when the old dame heard that her husband couldn’t tell at all when her son’s apprenticeship would be out, nor whither he had gone, she packed him off again, and gave him another bag of food and another roll of tobacco.

So, when he had walked a bit, he came to a great wood, which stretched on and on all day as he walked through it. When it got dark he saw a great light, and he went towards it. After a long, long time he came to a little but under a rock, and outside stood an old hag drawing water out of a well with her nose, so long was it.

“Good evening, mother!” said the man.

“The same to you”, said the old hag. “It’s hundreds of years since any one called me mother.”

“Can I have lodging here to-night?” asked the man.

“No! that you can’t”, said she.

But then the man pulled out his roll of tobacco, lighted his pipe, and gave the old dame a whiff, and a pinch of snuff. Then she was so happy she began to dance for joy, and the end was, she gave the man leave to stop the night.

So next morning he began to ask after Farmer Weathersky. “No! she never heard tell of him, but she ruled over all the four-footed beasts; perhaps some of them might know him.” So she played them all home with a pipe she had, and asked them all, but there wasn’t one of them who knew anything about Farmer Weathersky.

“Well!” said the old hag, “there are three sisters of us; maybe one of the other two know where he lives. I’ll lend you my horse and sledge, and then you’ll be at her house by night; but it’s at least three hundred miles off, the nearest way.”

Then the man started off, and at night reached the house, and when he came there, there stood another old hag before the door, drawing water out of the well with her nose.

“Good evening, mother!” said the man.

“The same to you”, said she; “it’s hundreds of years since any one called me mother.”

“Can I lodge here to-night?” asked the man.

“No!” said the old hag.

But he took out his roll of tobacco, lighted his pipe, and gave the old dame a whiff, and a good pinch of snuff besides, on the back of her hand. Then she was so happy that she began to jump and dance for joy, and so the man got leave to stay the night. When that was over, he began to ask after Farmer Weathersky. “No! she had never heard tell of him; but she ruled all the fish in the sea; perhaps some of them might know something about him.” So she played them all home with a pipe she had, and asked them, but there wasn’t one of them who knew anything about Farmer Weathersky.

“Well, well!” said the old hag, “there’s one sister of us left; maybe she knows something about him. She lives six hundred miles off, but I’ll lend you my horse and sledge, and then you’ll get there by nightfall.”

Then the man started off, and reached the house by nightfall, and there he found another old hag who stood before the grate, and stirred the fire with her nose, so long and tough it was.

“Good evening, mother!” said the man.

“The same to you”, said the old hag; “it’s hundreds of years since any one called me mother.”

“Can I lodge here to-night?” asked the man.

“No”, said the old hag.

Then the man pulled out his roll of tobacco again, and lighted his pipe, and gave the old hag such a pinch of snuff it covered the whole back of her hand. Then she got so happy she began to dance for joy, and so the man got leave to stay. But when the night was over, he began to ask after Farmer Weathersky. She never heard tell of him she said; but she ruled over all the birds of the air, and so she played them all home with a pipe she had, and when she had mustered them all, the Eagle was missing. But a little while after he came flying home, and when she asked him, he said he had just come straight from Farmer Weathersky. Then the old hag said he must guide the man thither; but the eagle said he must have something to eat first, and besides he must rest till the next day; he was so tired with flying that long way, he could scarce rise from the earth.

So when he had eaten his fill and taken a good rest, the old hag pulled a feather out of the Eagle’s tail, and put the man there in its stead; so the Eagle flew off with the man, and flew, and flew, but they didn’t reach Farmer Weathersky’s house before midnight.

So when they got there, the Eagle said

“There are heaps of dead bodies lying about outside but you mustn’t mind them. Inside the house every man Jack of them are so sound asleep, “t will be hard work to wake them; but you must go straight to the table drawer, and take out of it three crumbs of bread, and when you hear some one snoring loud, pull three feathers out of his head; he won’t wake for all that.”

So the man did as he was told, and after he had taken the crumbs of bread, he pulled out the first feather.

“OOF!” growled Farmer Weathersky, for it was he who snored.

So the man pulled out another feather.

“OOF!” he growled again.