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Popular Tales from the Norse

S >> Sir George Webbe Dasent >> Popular Tales from the Norse




'I've got no meal', said the North Wind; 'but yonder you have a ram
which coins nothing but golden ducats as soon as you say to it:

"Rain, ram! make money!"

So the lad thought this a fine thing; but as it was too far to get
home that day, he turned in for the night to the same inn where he
had slept before.

Before he called for anything, he tried the truth of what the North
Wind had said of the ram, and found it all right; but, when the
landlord saw that, he thought it was a famous ram, and, when the lad
had fallen asleep, he took another which couldn't coin gold ducats,
and changed the two.

Next morning off went the lad; and when he got home to his mother, he
said:

'After all, the North Wind is a jolly fellow; for now he has given me
a ram which can coin golden ducats if I only say "Ram, ram! make
money."'

'All very true, I daresay', said his mother; 'but I shan't believe
any such stuff until I see the ducats made.'

'Ram, ram! make money!' said the lad; but if the Ram made anything,
it wasn't money.

So the lad went back again to the North Wind, and blew him up, and
said the ram was worth nothing, and he must have his rights for the
meal.

'Well!' said the North Wind; 'I've nothing else to give you but that
old stick in the corner yonder; but it's a stick of that kind that if
you say:

'"Stick, stick! lay on!" it lays on till you say: "Stick, stick! now
stop!"'

So, as the way was long, the lad turned in this night too to the
landlord; but as he could pretty well guess how things stood as to
the cloth and the ram, he lay down at once on the bench and began to
snore, as if he were asleep.

Now the landlord, who easily saw that the stick must be worth
something, hunted up one which was like it, and when he heard the lad
snore, was going to change the two; but, just as the landlord was
about to take it, the lad bawled out: 'Stick, stick! lay on!'

So the stick began to beat the landlord, till he jumped over chairs,
and tables, and benches, and yelled and roared:

'Oh my! oh my! bid the stick be still, else it will beat me to death,
and you shall have back both your cloth and our ram.'

When the lad thought the landlord had got enough, he said:

'Stick, stick! now stop!'

Then he took the cloth and put it into his pocket, and went home with
his stick in his hand, leading the ram by a cord round its horns; and
so he got his rights for the meal he had lost.




THE MASTER THIEF

Once upon a time there was a poor cottager who had three sons. He had
nothing to leave them when he died, and no money with which to put
them to any trade, so that he did not know what to make of them. At
last he said he would give them leave to take to anything each liked
best, and to go whithersoever they pleased, and he would go with them
a bit of the way; and so he did. He went with them till they came to
a place where three roads met, and there each of them chose a road,
and their father bade them good-bye, and went back home. I have never
heard tell what became of the two elder; but as for the youngest, he
went both far and long, as you shall hear.

So it fell out one night as he was going through a great wood that
such bad weather overtook him. It blew, and sleeted, and drove so
that he could scarce keep his eyes open; and in a trice, before he
knew how it was, he got bewildered, and could not find either road or
path. But as he went on and on, at last he saw a glimmering of light
far far off in the wood. So he thought he would try and get to the
light; and after a time he did reach it. There it was in a large
house, and the fire was blazing so brightly inside, that he could
tell the folk had not yet gone to bed; so he went in and saw an old
dame bustling about and minding the house.

'Good evening!' said the youth.

'Good evening!' said the old dame.

'Hutetu! it's such foul weather out of doors to-night', said he.

'So it is', said she.

'Can I get leave to have a bed and shelter here to-night?' asked the
youth.

'You'll get no good by sleeping here', said the old dame; 'for if the
folk come home and find you here, they'll kill both me and you.'

'What sort of folk, then, are they who live here?' asked the youth.

'Oh, robbers! And a bad lot of them too', said the old dame. 'They
stole me away when I was little, and have kept me as their
housekeeper ever since.'

'Well, for all that, I think I'll just go to bed', said the youth.
'Come what may, I'll not stir out at night in such weather.'

'Very well', said the old dame; 'but if you stay, it will be the
worse for you.'

With that the youth got into a bed which stood there, but he dared
not go to sleep, and very soon after in came the robbers; so the old
dame told them how a stranger fellow had come in whom she had not
been able to get out of the house again.

'Did you see if he had any money?' said the robbers.

'Such a one as he money!' said the old dame, 'the tramper! Why, if he
had clothes to his back, it was as much as he had.'

Then the robbers began to talk among themselves what they should do
with him; if they should kill him outright, or what else they should
do. Meantime the youth got up and began to talk to them, and to ask
if they didn't want a servant, for it might be that he would be glad
to enter their service.

'Oh', said they, 'if you have a mind to follow the trade that we
follow, you can very well get a place here.'

'It's all one to me what trade I follow', said the youth; 'for when I
left home, father gave me leave to take to any trade I chose.'

'Well, have you a mind to steal?' asked the robbers.

'I don't care', said the youth, for he thought it would not take long
to learn that trade.

Now there lived a man a little way off who had three oxen. One of
these he was to take to the town to sell, and the robbers had heard
what he was going to do, so they said to the youth, if he were good
to steal the ox from the man by the way without his knowing it, and
without doing him any harm, they would give him leave to be their
serving-man.

Well! the youth set off, and took with him a pretty shoe, with a
silver buckle on it, which lay about the house; and he put the shoe
in the road along which the man was going with his ox; and when he
had done that, he went into the wood and hid himself under a bush. So
when the man came by he saw the shoe at once.

'That's a nice shoe', said he. 'If I only had the fellow to it, I'd
take it home with me, and perhaps I'd put my old dame in a good
humour for once.' For you must know he had an old wife, so cross and
snappish, it was not long between each time that she boxed his ears.
But then he bethought him that he could do nothing with the odd shoe
unless he had the fellow to it; so he went on his way and let the
shoe lie on the road.

Then the youth took up the shoe, and made all the haste he could to
get before the man by a short cut through the wood, and laid it down
before him in the road again. When the man came along with his ox, he
got quite angry with himself for being so dull as to leave the fellow
to the shoe lying in the road instead of taking it with him; so he
tied the ox to the fence, and said to himself, 'I may just as well
run back and pick up the other, and then I'll have a pair of good
shoes for my old dame, and so, perhaps, I'll get a kind word from her
for once.'

So he set off, and hunted and hunted up and down for the shoe, but no
shoe did he find; and at length he had to go back with the one he
had. But, meanwhile the youth had taken the ox and gone off with it;
and when the man came and saw his ox gone, he began to cry and
bewail, for he was afraid his old dame would kill him outright when
she came to know that the ox was lost. But just then it came across
his mind that he would go home and take the second ox, and drive it
to the town, and not let his old dame know anything about the matter.
So he did this, and went home and took the ox without his dame's
knowing it, and set off with it to the town. But the robbers knew all
about it, and they said to the youth, if he could get this ox too,
without the man's knowing it, and without his doing him any harm, he
should be as good as any one of them. If that were all, the youth
said, he did not think it a very hard thing.

This time he took with him a rope, and hung himself up under the arm-
pits to a tree right in the man's way. So the man came along with his
ox, and when he saw such a sight hanging there he began to feel a
little queer.

'Well', said he, 'whatever heavy thoughts you had who have hanged
yourself up there, it can't be helped; you may hang for what I care!
I can't breathe life into you again'; and with that he went on his
way with his ox. Down slipped the youth from the tree, and ran by a
footpath, and got before the man, and hung himself up right in his
way again.

'Bless me!' said the man, 'were you really so heavy at heart that you
hanged yourself up there--or is it only a piece of witchcraft that I
see before me? Aye, aye! you may hang for all I care, whether you are
a ghost or whatever you are.' So he passed on with his ox.

Now the youth did just as he had done twice before; he jumped down
from the tree, ran through the wood by a footpath, and hung himself
up right in the man's way again. But when the man saw this sight for
the third time, he said to himself:

'Well! this is an ugly business! Is it likely now that they should
have been so heavy at heart as to hang themselves, all these three?
No! I cannot think it is anything else than a piece of witchcraft
that I see. But now I'll soon know for certain; if the other two are
still hanging there, it must be really so; but if they are not, then
it can be nothing but witchcraft that I see.'

So he tied up his ox, and ran back to see if the others were still
really hanging there. But while he went and peered up into all the
trees, the youth jumped down and took his ox and ran off with it.
When the man came back and found his ox gone, he was in a sad plight,
and, as any one might know without being told, he began to cry and
bemoan; but at last he came to take it easier, and so he thought:

'There's no other help for it than to go home and take the third ox
without my dame's knowing it, and to try and drive a good bargain
with it, so that I may get a good sum of money for it.'

So he went home and set off with the ox, and his old dame knew never
a word about the matter. But the robbers, they knew all about it, and
they said to the youth, that if he could steal this ox as he had
stolen the other two, then he should be master over the whole band.
Well, the youth set off, and ran into the wood; and as the man came
by with his ox he set up a dreadful bellowing, just like a great ox
in the wood. When the man heard that, you can't think how glad he
was, for it seemed to him that he knew the voice of his big bullock,
and he thought that now he should find both of them again; so he tied
up the third ox, and ran off from the road to look for them in the
wood; but meantime the youth went off with the third ox. Now, when
the man came back and found he had lost this ox too, he was so wild
that there was no end to his grief. He cried and roared and beat his
breast, and, to tell the truth, it was many days before he dared go
home; for he was afraid lest his old dame should kill him outright on
the spot.

As for the robbers, they were not very well pleased either, when they
had to own that the youth was master over the whole band. So one day
they thought they would try their hands at something which he was not
man enough to do; and they set off all together, every man Jack of
them, and left him alone at home. Now, the first thing that he did
when they were all well clear of the house, was to drive the oxen out
to the road, so that they might run back to the man from whom he had
stolen them; and right glad he was to see them, as you may fancy.
Next he took all the horses which the robbers had, and loaded them
with the best things he could lay his hands on-gold and silver, and
clothes and other fine things; and then he bade the old dame to greet
the robbers when they came back, and to thank them for him, and to
say that now he was setting off on his travels, and they would have
hard work to find him again; and with that, off he started.

After a good bit he came to the road along which he was going when he
fell among the robbers, and when he got near home, and could see his
father's cottage, he put on a uniform which he had found among the
clothes he had taken from the robbers, and which was made just like a
general's. So he drove up to the door as if he were any other great
man. After that he went in and asked if he could have a lodging? No;
that he couldn't at any price.

'How ever should I be able', said the man, 'to make room in my house
for such a fine gentleman--I who scarce have a rag to lie upon, and
miserable rags too?'

'You always were a stingy old hunks', said the youth, 'and so you are
still, when you won't take your own son in.'

'What, you my son!' said the man.

'Don't you know me again?' said the youth. Well, after a little while
he did know him again.

'But what have you been turning your hand to, that you have made
yourself so great a man in such haste?' asked the man.

'Oh! I'll soon tell you', said the youth. 'You said I might take to
any trade I chose, and so I bound myself apprentice to a pack of
thieves and robbers, and now I've served my time out, and am become a
Master Thief.'

Now there lived a Squire close by to his father's cottage, and he had
such a great house, and such heaps of money, he could not tell how
much he had. He had a daughter too, and a smart and pretty girl she
was. So the Master Thief set his heart upon having her to wife, and
he told his father to go to the Squire and ask for his daughter for
him.

'If he asks by what trade I get my living, you can say I'm a Master
Thief.'

'I think you've lost your wits', said the man, 'for you can't be in
your right mind when you think of such stuff.'

No! he had not lost his wits, his father must and should go to the
Squire, and ask for his daughter.

'Nay, but I tell you, I daren't go to the Squire and be your
spokesman; he who is so rich, and has so much money', said the man.

Yes, there was no help for it, said the Master Thief; he should go
whether he would or no; and if he did not go by fair means, he would
soon make him go by foul. But the man was still loath to go; so he
stepped after him, and rubbed him down with a good birch cudgel, and
kept on till the man came crying and sobbing inside the Squire's
door.

'How now, my man! what ails you?' said the Squire. So he told him the
whole story; how he had three sons who set off one day, and how he
had given them leave to go whithersoever they would, and to follow
whatever calling they chose. 'And here now is the youngest come home,
and has thrashed me till he has made me come to you and ask for your
daughter for him to wife; and he bids me say, besides, that he's a
Master Thief.' And so he fell to crying and sobbing again.

'Never mind, my man', said the Squire, laughing; 'just go back and
tell him from me, he must prove his skill first. If he can steal the
roast from the spit in the kitchen on Sunday, while all the household
are looking after it, he shall have my daughter. Just go and tell him
that.'

So he went back and told the youth, who thought it would be an easy
job. So he set about and caught three hares alive, and put them into
a bag, and dressed himself in some old rags, until he looked so poor
and filthy that it made one's heart bleed to see; and then he stole
into the passage at the back-door of the Squire's house on the Sunday
forenoon, with his bag, just like any other beggar-boy. But the
Squire himself and all his household were in the kitchen watching the
roast. Just as they were doing this, the youth let one hare go, and
it set off and ran round and round the yard in front of the house.

'Oh, just look at that hare!' said the folk in the kitchen, and were
all for running out to catch it.

Yes, the Squire saw it running too. 'Oh, let it run', said he;
'there's no use in thinking to catch a hare on the spring.'

A little while after, the youth let the second hare go, and they saw
it in the kitchen, and thought it was the same they had seen before,
and still wanted to run out and catch it; but the Squire said again
it was no use. It was not long before the youth let the third hare
go, and it set off and ran round and round the yard as the others
before it. Now, they saw it from the kitchen, and still thought it
was the same hare that kept on running about, and were all eager to
be out after it.

'Well, it is a fine hare', said the Squire; 'come let's see if we
can't lay our hands on it.'

So out he ran, and the rest with him--away they all went, the hare
before, and they after; so that it was rare fun to see. But meantime
the youth took the roast and ran off with it; and where the Squire
got a roast for his dinner that day I don't know; but one thing I
know, and that is, that he had no roast hare, though he ran after it
till he was both warm and weary.

Now it chanced that the Priest came to dinner that day, and when the
Squire told him what a trick the Master Thief had played him, he made
such game of him that there was no end of it.

'For my part', said the Priest, 'I can't think how it could ever
happen to me to be made such a fool of by a fellow like that.'

'Very well--only keep a sharp look-out', said the Squire; 'maybe
he'll come to see you before you know a word of it.' But the Priest
stuck to his text--that he did, and made game of the Squire because
he had been so taken in.

Later in the afternoon came the Master Thief, and wanted to have the
Squire's daughter, as he had given his word. But the Squire began to
talk him over, and said, 'Oh, you must first prove your skill a
little more; for what you did to-day was no great thing, after all.
Couldn't you now play off a good trick on the Priest, who is sitting
in there, and making game of me for letting such a fellow as you
twist me round his thumb.'

'Well, as for that, it wouldn't be hard', said the Master Thief. So
he dressed himself up like a bird, threw a great white sheet over his
body, took the wings of a goose and tied them to his back, and so
climbed up into a great maple which stood in the Priest's garden. And
when the Priest came home in the evening, the youth began to bawl
out:

'Father Laurence! Father Laurence!'--for that was the Priest's name.

'Who is that calling me?' said the Priest.

'I am an angel', said the Master Thief, 'sent from God to let you
know that you shall be taken up alive into heaven for your piety's
sake. Next Monday night you must hold yourself ready for the journey,
for I shall come then to fetch you in a sack; and all your gold and
your silver, and all that you have of this world's goods, you must
lay together in a heap in your dining-room.'

Well, Father Laurence fell on his knees before the angel, and thanked
him; and the very next day he preached a farewell sermon, and gave it
out how there had come down an angel unto the big maple in his
garden, who had told him that he was to be taken up alive into heaven
for his piety's sake; and he preached and made such a touching
discourse, that all who were at church wept, both young and old.

So the next Monday night came the Master Thief like an angel again,
and the Priest fell on his knees and thanked him before he was put
into the sack; but when he had got him well in, the Master Thief drew
and dragged him over stocks and stones.

'OW! OW!' groaned the Priest inside the sack, 'wherever are we
going?'

'This is the narrow way which leadeth unto the kingdom of heaven',
said the Master Thief, who went on dragging him along till he had
nearly broken every bone in his body. At last he tumbled him into a
goose-house that belonged to the Squire, and the geese began pecking
and pinching him with their bills, so that he was more dead than
alive.

'Now you are in the flames of purgatory, to be cleansed and purified
for life everlasting', said the Master Thief; and with that he went
his way, and took all the gold which the Priest had laid together in
his dining-room. The next morning, when the goose-girl came to let
the geese out, she heard how the Priest lay in the sack, and bemoaned
himself in the goose-house.

'In heaven's name, who's there, and what ails you?' she cried.

'Oh!' said the Priest, 'if you are an angel from heaven, do let me
out, and let me return again to earth, for it is worse here than in
hell. The little fiends keep on pinching me with tongs.'

'Heaven help us, I am no angel at all', said the girl, as she helped
the Priest out of the sack; 'I only look after the Squire's geese,
and like enough they are the little fiends which have pinched your
reverence.'

'Oh!' groaned the Priest, 'this is all that Master Thief's doing. Ah!
my gold and my silver, and my fine clothes.' And he beat his breast,
and hobbled home at such a rate that the girl thought he had lost his
wits all at once.

Now when the Squire came to hear how it had gone with the Priest, and
how he had been along the narrow way, and into purgatory, he laughed
till he well-nigh split his sides. But when the Master Thief came and
asked for his daughter as he had promised, the Squire put him off
again, and said:

'You must do one masterpiece better still, that I may see plainly
what you are fit for. Now, I have twelve horses in my stable, and on
them I will put twelve grooms, one on each. If you are so good a
thief as to steal the horses from under them, I'll see what I can do
for you.'

'Very well, I daresay I can do it', said the Master Thief; 'but shall
I really have your daughter if I can?'

'Yes, if you can, I'll do my best for you', said the Squire. So the
Master Thief set off to a shop, and bought brandy enough to fill two
pocket-flasks, and into one of them he put a sleepy drink, but into
the other only brandy. After that he hired eleven men to lie in wait
at night, behind the Squire's stable-yard; and last of all, for fair
words and a good bit of money, he borrowed a ragged gown and cloak
from an old woman; and so, with a staff in his hand, and a bundle at
his back, he limped off, as evening drew on, towards the Squire's
stable. Just as he got there they were watering the horses for the
night, and had their hands full of work. 'What the devil do you
want?' said one of the grooms to the old woman.

'Oh, oh! hutetu! it is so bitter cold', said she, and shivered and
shook, and made wry faces. 'Hutetu! it is so cold, a poor wretch may
easily freeze to death'; and with that she fell to shivering and
shaking again.

'Oh! for the love of heaven, can I get leave to stay here a while,
and sit inside the stable door?'

'To the devil with your leave', said one. 'Pack yourself off this
minute, for if the Squire sets his eye on you, he'll lead us a pretty
dance.'

'Oh! the poor old bag-of-bones', said another, whose heart took pity
on her, 'the old hag may sit inside and welcome; such a one as she
can do no harm.'

And the rest said, some she should stay, and some she shouldn't; but
while they were quarrelling and minding the horses, she crept further
and further into the stable, till at last she sat herself down behind
the door; and when she had got so far, no one gave any more heed to
her.

As the night wore on, the men found it rather cold work to sit so
still and quiet on horseback.

'Hutetu! it is so devilish cold', said one, and beat his arms
crosswise.

'That it is', said another; 'I freeze so, that my teeth chatter.'

'If one only had a quid to chew', said a third.

Well! there was one who had an ounce or two; so they shared it
between them, though it wasn't much, after all, that each got; and so
they chewed and spat, and spat and chewed. This helped them somewhat;
but in a little while they were just as bad as ever.

'Hutetu!' said one, and shivered and shook.

'Hutetu!' said the old woman, and shivered so, that every tooth in
her head chattered. Then she pulled out the flask with brandy in it,
and her hand shook so that the spirit splashed about in the flask,
and then she took such a gulp, that it went 'bop' in her throat.

'What's that you've got in your flask, old girl?' said one of the
grooms.

'Oh! it's only a drop of brandy, old man', said she.

'Brandy! Well, I never! Do let me have a drop', screamed the whole
twelve, one after another.

'Oh! but it is such a little drop', mumbled the old woman, 'it will
not even wet your mouths round.' But they must and would have it;
there was no help for it; and so she pulled out the flask with the
sleepy drink in it, and put it to the first man's lips; then she
shook no more, but guided the flask so that each of them got what he
wanted, and the twelfth had not done drinking before the first sat
and snored. Then the Master Thief threw off his beggar's rags, and
took one groom after the other so softly off their horses, and set
them astride on the beams between the stalls; and so he called his
eleven men, and rode off with the Squire's twelve horses. But when
the Squire got up in the morning, and went to look after his grooms,
they had just begun to come to; and some of them fell to spurring the
beams with their spurs, till the splinters flew again, and some fell
off, and some still hung on and sat there looking like fools.

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