Part 5

“Look sharp! here they come!” said one of the brothers.

“See! They have stolen father’s horse!” said the other, as he brought his gun to his eye.

“Hold on!” whispered the first, “My gun is surer than yours. Let me take care of the thief.” These words were followed by a loud report, and the horseman tumbled from his seat.

Alarmed at the result, the two brothers retreated hastily to their support in the rear, and nothing further was heard of the enemy. The following day some of the bravest of the peasants set out to reconnoiter, but the freebooters had disappeared. They came, however, upon a heap of stones which the marauders had thrown up to mark the grave of their companion.

This pile of stones was ever after called the freebooter’s grave.

THE GIANT MAIDEN IN BORÅSERÖD MOUNTAIN.

In the mountain of Boråseröd, which is located in the parish of Svarteborg, there lived, in ancient days, a giant. As with all the giant people, he has disappeared since the coming in of Christianity. Some say that he died, but others believe that he moved to Dovre, in Norway, where giants betook themselves when disturbed by the church bells.

However, there is even to-day a hollow in the mountain which is called “the giant’s door,” and within the mountain, it is believed there are vaults filled with the giant’s gold. No one has, however, dared venture to search for this treasure, and luckily, for with property of giants, blessings do not go.

This giant had a daughter, so beautiful that he who once saw her could never drive thoughts of her from his mind. Among the few whose fortune it was to see her was a young peasant from the estate of Rom, adjacent to the mountain. When he was one day out searching for the horses, which had gone astray, he suddenly came upon the wonderfully beautiful maiden, sitting upon the side of the mountain, in the sunshine, playing on her harp.

The peasant at once understanding who it was, not of the kind to be easily frightened, knowing that her father had an abundance of riches, and thinking it was no worse for him than for many others to marry into the giant family, approached her, under cover of the shrubbery, until he was quite near, when he threw his knife between her and the mountain, and as “steel charms a Troll,” or others of the supernatural family, she was obliged, whether or not she would, to follow him to his home.

In the evening, when the giant missed his daughter, he started out in search of her, and in his search came to Rom.

Through the walls he heard the snores of two persons, and, when he had lifted the roof off the cottage, he saw his daughter sleeping in the arms of the young swain.

“Are you there, you whelp!” he hissed. “Has it come to this?” added he. “So be it, then; but I demand that the wedding shall take place before the next new moon. If you can then give me as much food and drink as I want all your offspring shall be made rich and powerful, otherwise I will have nothing to do with you.”

Preparations were hastily made by the young man’s parents for the wedding, and neighbors and relations came from far and near, laden with provisions. A great number likely to be present, it was determined to have the ceremony performed in the Church of Tosse; but the day before the wedding there came such a great freshet that it seemed impossible for the bridal carriage to cross the swollen creek between Duigle and Barby. The giant was equal to the emergency, and, with his wife, went to Holmasar, in Berffendalen, and fetched a large slab of stone and four boulders to the creek. The giant carried the slab under his arm, and his wife the boulders in her mitten. And thus they built the stone bridge which to this day spans the creek.

When the bridal pair came from the church to the banquet hall, the giant appeared and seated himself at the table with the rest of the guests.

Although the bridal couple did all possible to find him enough to eat, the giant declared when he left the table that he was only half satisfied, and therefore only half of the family should become great people. Wishing to give the bride a becoming bridal present, he cast a sack of gold and silver upon the floor, which the couple was to have if the son-in-law could carry it up to the loft. Stealthily, the bride gave her husband a drink which made him so strong that he threw the sack upon his back, and, to the surprise of all, carried it out of the room. Thus the newly wedded pair became possessors of an abundant treasure with which to begin life.

For some time the young couple lived in plenty and happiness, but soon the husband began to be irritable and abusive. It came, finally, to such a pass that the husband took a whip to his wife. She continued, nevertheless, to be mild and patient as before; but one day he was about to start on a long journey. When the horse was hitched to the wagon he observed that the shoe was gone from one of the hind feet. It would not do to venture on such a journey without first replacing the shoe. Here, however, was a difficulty. He had one shoe only, and that was too large; whereupon he began again to scold and swear.

The wife said nothing, but quietly taking the shoe between her hands, squeezed it together as if it were lead, reducing it to the required size. Her husband looked upon her in astonishment and alarm. Finally he addressed her:

“Why have you, who are so strong, submitted to abuse from me?”

“Because the wife should be submissive to her husband,” said the giantess, mildly and pleasantly.

From that hour the man was the most patient and indulgent in the region, and never again was heard a cross word from his mouth.

GLOSHED’S ALTAR. [16]

South of Thorsby Church, among the mountains, lies a shattered rock called Gloshed’s Altar, concerning which there is an old tradition still living upon the lips of the people, as follows:

A long time ago a man from the parish of Säfve went upon a Hollandish ship, on a whaling cruise. After the vessel had been tossed about the sea for some time, land was one day sighted, and upon the land was seen a fire which continued to burn many days.

It was determined that some of the ship’s crew should go ashore, in the hope that shelter might be found, and among those who went ashore was our hero. When the strand was reached they found there an old man sitting by a fire of logs, endeavoring to warm himself.

“Where did you come from?” asked the old man.

“From Holland!” answered the sailors.

“But where were you born?” to our hero.

“In Hisingen, in the parish of Säfve,” he answered.

“Are you acquainted in Thorsby?”

“Yes, indeed!”

“Do you know where Ulfve Mountain lies?”

“I have often passed it, as the road from Göteborg to Marstrand over Hisingen and through Thorsby goes past there.”

“Do the large stones and hills remain undisturbed?” asked the old man.

“Yes, except one stone, which, if I remember correctly, is toppling over,” said the Hisinger.

“That is too bad! But do you know where Gloshed’s Altar is, and does it remain sound?”

“Upon that point,” said the sailor, “I have no knowledge.”

Finally the old man continued: “If you will say to those who now live in Thorsby and Torrebräcka that they shall not destroy the stones and elevations at the foot of Ulfve Mount, and, above all, to take care of Gloshed’s Altar, you shall have fair winds for the rest of your voyage.”

The Hisinger promised to deliver the message when he arrived home, whereupon he asked the old man his name, and how he, living so far from Thorsby, was so well acquainted with matters there.

“I’ll tell you,” said he, “my name is Thore Brock, and I at one time lived there, but was banished. All my relations are buried at Ulfve Mountain, and at Gloshed’s Altar we were wont to do homage to our gods and to make our offerings.”

Hereupon they separated.

When the man from Hisinger returned home he went about the fulfillment of his promise, and, without knowing how, he soon became one of the principal farmers in the parish.

THE BRIDAL PRESENT.

In the parish of Näsinge, two poor sisters once found service with a rich farmer. All through the summer they herded their master’s flocks on the mountain sides, whiling away their time in relating legends of kings and abducted princesses.

“If only some prince would carry me away to his gilded palace,” said the younger, one day.

“Hush! Do not talk so wickedly,” remonstrated the elder. “The Trolls might hear you, when it would go hard with you.”

“Oh! there is not much danger of that,” replied the first speaker, and continued her story.

Some days later the younger sister disappeared. No one knew where she had gone, and careful search did not reveal. Time went on without the least trace of her whereabouts being discovered. Finally the remaining sister found a sweetheart, but equally poor with herself, wherefore they could not think of marrying yet for many years.

One night in her sleep she dreamed that her absent sister stood at her bedside, and said:

“Make your bed to-morrow night in the barn, past which the Trolls and I shall pass, and I will give you a handsome dower.”

The next night when the girl drove her flocks home she made her bed, as her sister had directed, in her master’s barn. The barn door she left open, and, laying herself down, she looked out into the night, endeavoring to keep awake until her sister should come. Soon after midnight she heard the sound of hoofs, and saw her sister, accompanied by a Troll, ride up the road at such a speed that the sparks glistened around the horses’ feet. When they reached the front of the barn the lost girl threw a purse in at the door, which fell with a ring into the watcher’s lap. Hastily the treasure was deposited under her head, and she was soon asleep, wearied with her day’s work and night of watching.

The next day, upon examining her strangely acquired gift, what was her astonishment to find it filled with pure gold coins. Before the sun had set she had purchased a splendid farm, and, as may be presumed, the bans were published and a wedding immediately celebrated.

HÅLDE HAT. [17]

At the extremity of the beautiful valley of Espelund, in the parish of Mo, there rises a wood-covered mountain known as Bergåsa Mountain, from the distance looking like a giant cone; three sides presenting frowning precipices, the fourth (and southern) fortified by a large wall of boulders, which is said to have surrounded, in former times, a king’s castle, called Grimslott.

Here, in times gone by, lived a mountain king named Grim. He was, like the rest of his kind, ugly and crafty, and robbed mankind of whatever fell in his way.

For this purpose he had two hats, one of which was called the Dulde hat, and was so endowed that when the king put it on his head both he and his companions became invisible; and the other was called the Hålde hat, which possessed a power making all things plainly visible to the wearer that were before invisible.

It happened, during these days, that a farmer of Grimland, preparing a wedding for his daughter, invited guests from near and far to the festivities. Pretending, however, not to know the mountain king, he did not invite him. The latter apparently took no offense at this, but, on the wedding day, putting his Dulde hat upon his head, set out to the wedding feast, followed by all his people, except the queen, who was left at home to watch the castle.

When the wedding guests sat themselves at table everything that was brought in vanished, both food and drink, to the great astonishment of all, as they could not understand where it disappeared; but a young peasant suspected the Trolls were at the bottom of it, and, springing upon a horse, rode straightway to Borgåsa Mountain. On the steps stood the mountain queen, so beautiful and fine, who inquired of the rider how things were going at the wedding feast in Grimland.

“The food is salt and the oil is sour,” answered he. “That stingy farmer has hidden the wine and meat in the cellar where no one can find it. Now, your husband sends greeting, and requests that you give me the Hålde hat, that he may be able to find its hiding-place.”

Without mistrust the queen gave him the enchanted hat, whereupon the young peasant hastened back to the festivities. Entering the hall, he donned the hat and saw at once the mountain king and his followers sitting among the guests, seizing upon everything as fast as brought in. The peasant drew his sword, and commanded the others to do likewise.

“Stab as I stab and cut as I cut,” cried he, and began to slash around the table. The other guests followed his example and slew the mountain king and all his followers. From that time, so says the story, the castle upon Borgåsa Mountain has been untenanted.

THE GOLDEN CRADLE.

One stormy autumn night, a few years after the death of Charles XII., a ship containing a valuable cargo was wrecked on the island of Tjorn, one of the group of islands on the coast of Bohuslän. Among other things of value in the ship’s cargo were many articles of costly jewelry, belonging to King Frederick I., which were being brought to him from Hessia. The most costly, however, was a jewel inclosed in a cradle made of pure gold and richly embellished with pearls and precious stones, sent by a German princess to the king’s spouse.

The islanders, as was not unusual in those days, murdered the ship’s crew, and, after it had been plundered of its cargo, scuttled and sunk her, so that she was safely out of sight.

Among the priests upon the island was one named Michael Koch, pastor in Klofvedal. He had a hint of the great crime that had been committed, but, fearing the half-barbarous inhabitants, did not dare betray the secret.

Some time after the ship had disappeared a fisherman came one day to the parsonage and presented to the priest a walking stick of great beauty of workmanship and value, which was a part of the cargo of the plundered vessel. Koch accepted the gift, and whether he did not know or did not care where it came from, took it with him, often displaying it upon the streets. When, two years later, he went to Stockholm, as representative to the Diet, King Frederick one day accidentally saw and recognized it as his property. The priest, however, asserted that it was his, and rightfully acquired. But the king could not be deceived, and opening a heretofore concealed hollow in the cane, took therefrom a roll of gold coins. This action attracted attention and aroused suspicion anew that the ship had been plundered. It was not thought that Koch had a hand in it, but, on the assumption that he knew something about it which he ought to have revealed, and that he was trying to conceal the deed, he was escorted from Stockholm.

Meantime further discoveries were made, until they led to finding that the gold cradle was in possession of a peasant in Stordal. At the king’s command, soldiers were at once dispatched to Tjorn to arrest the criminals and, possibly, find the jewel. But the command was not kept so secret that the peasant did not get an intimation of what was coming, whereupon he hastened to bury the cradle in Stordal Heath. Under guidance of a police officer the search was prosecuted in all directions, but when the soldiers could not discover the object of their search, they left the island and the offenders escaped.

Some years later the possessor of the cradle became sick. When he found that his case was serious he sent for the priest, and confided to him the whereabouts of his booty, and requested that as soon as he was dead the priest should dig the cradle up and restore it to the king. Hardly had the priest taken his departure when the sick man regretted his simplicity. Gathering his little remaining strength, he rose from his bed, and, with unsteady steps, crept out into the field and concealed his buried treasure in another place. As soon as the man was dead, the priest set out about fulfilling his commission. His digging was in vain, the hidden treasure was not to be found. In his dying hour the peasant had, apparently, endeavored to reveal the new hiding place, but his strength was so near exhausted that his utterances could not be understood.

To this day many of the dwellers on the island are fully persuaded that Queen Elenor’s golden cradle may be found somewhere in the Stordal cow pastures, and many have wasted much time and labor in the hope of bringing it to light.

THE CHILD PHANTOM.

Many years ago there died, on the estate of Sundshult, in the parish of Nafverstad, a child of illegitimate birth, which, because of this, was not christened and could not be accorded Christian burial, or a place in heaven, and whose spirit, therefore, was left to wander the earth, disturbing the rest and making night uncomfortable for the people of the neighborhood.

One time, just before Christmas, the parish shoemaker, on his rounds, was detained at the house of a patron, and, having much work before him, he was still sewing late into the night, when he was unexpectedly startled from his employment by a little child appearing before him, which said:

“Why do you sit there? Move aside.”

“For what?” asked the shoemaker.

“Because I wish to dance,” said the spectre.

“Dance away, then!” said the shoemaker.

When the child had danced some time it disappeared, but returned soon and said:

“I will dance again, and I’ll dance your light out for you.”

“No,” said the shoemaker, “let the light alone. But who are you that you are here in this manner?”

“I live under the lower stone of the steps to the porch.”

“Who put you there?” asked the shoemaker.

“Watch when it dawns, and you will see my mother coming, wearing a red cap. But help me out of this, and I’ll never dance again.”

This the shoemaker promised to do, and the spectre vanished.

The next day a servant girl from the neighboring estate came, who wore upon her head a red handkerchief.

Digging was begun under the designated step, and in time the skeleton of a child was found, incased in a wooden tub. The body was that day taken to the churchyard, and the mother, who had destroyed her child, turned over to the authorities. Since then the child spectre has danced no more.

KING RANE AND QUEEN HUDTA.

Upon the height where Svarteborg’s Church is now situated, rose, in former times, a castle, occupied at the date of our story by a king named Rane, after whom the fortification took the name of Ranesborg. As late as a few years ago traces of a wall were to be seen in the so-called bell-tower, near the church path, which were said to be the remains of the once stately fortress.

At the time King Rane resided in Ranesborg, there lived not far from there, upon the Hudt estate, in the parish of Tanum, a Queen Hudta, widely known for her wealth and beauty, also for her rare bravery and sour temper.

Enraptured by the king’s fame for bravery, though well along in years, she sent an embassador to the king offering him her hand, which he accepted. After a time he fell in love with another and regretted his previous betrothal, but said nothing to Queen Hudta, who, upon the appointed day, betook herself, arrayed in queenly garb and glittering crown, to Ranesborg.

When the bridal car arrived at the castle it was found that the king had gone on a hunt, and had left word that the queen might return to her home again. Stung by this bitter affront, the queen commanded her people to storm the castle and raze it to the ground. Returning to her horse, when the destruction had been completed, and viewing the black and smoking ruins of the castle, she thus vented herself:

“Up to the present you have been called Ranesborg, but hereafter you shall be known as Svarteborg”—Black Castle—and, putting spurs to her horse, she galloped away from the spot.

When the queen came to the so-called Köpstadbäcken, on her way to Tanum, she halted at a spring, dismounted and laid her crown and equipments upon a stone. She then requested a drink, and, the water being good, the spring was named Godtakällan—good spring.

Meantime Rane, during the chase, had observed the smoke and flames from his burning castle and set out hastily homeward. At Köpstadbäcken he came upon the bridal car of the malevolent queen, when he understood what had taken place, and drawing his sword, he clove the head of his intended bride. At sight of this her followers at once took to flight, but they were overtaken and hewn down at Stenehed, where one of the finest monuments on Bohuslän marks the incident. The murdered queen’s body was carried to her castle at Hudt, where a large prostrate stone near the wagon road is said to mark her grave.

THE KNIGHTS OF ÅLLABERG.

One time a peasant, en route to Jönköping with a load of rye, came just at dusk to Ållaberg, where he discovered a grand mansion by the way. “Maybe I can sell my rye here,” thought he, “and so be spared the journey to Jönköping,” and, approaching the door, he knocked for admittance.

The door was at once opened by some unseen power, and the peasant entered.

Upon entering, he found himself in a grand hall. In the middle of the floor stood a large table and upon the table lay twelve golden helmets, grand beyond the power of description, and scattered around the room, deep in slumber, were twelve knights in glittering armor.

The peasant contemplated his beautiful surroundings, but, concluding he could not sell his rye here, went on, coming finally to a large stable, where he found standing twelve most magnificent steeds, bedecked with golden trappings and silver shoes on their hoofs, stamping in their stalls.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he took hold of the bridle of one of the horses in order to learn by what art it was made. Hardly had he touched it when he heard a voice call out, “Is it time now?” and another answer, “No, not yet!”

The peasant had now seen and heard as much as he desired, and, thoroughly frightened, hastened away. When he came out he found that he had been into the mountain instead of into a mansion, and that he had seen the twelve knights who sleep there until the country shall be in some great danger, when they will awake and help Sweden to defend herself against her foreign enemies.

THE COUNTESS OF HÖJENTORP. [18]