66

64

Pardon," cried the mountain spirit, "my ignorance of your customs! I only know that I love thee! Come with me, beauteous one, hence from this valley into purer regions—to reign over mightier beings-over me, the mightiest of all! Let me but see, in thy sweet eyes, that thou lovest me!"

Herewith his arm encircled the princess, and he soared with her to the summit of the mountain. Her companions, full of terror, ran back to the castle, and told all that had happened, to Prince Barzanuph, who was overwhelmed with grief for the loss of his daughter.

The mountain top, whither the spirit bore his fair prey, was sterile and desolate; but became a garden of beauty at his command, and a stately palace, furnished with more than eastern luxury, rose for the princess' dwelling

She had fallen into a swoon, according to the custom of frightened maidens; the mountain spirit, who knew naught of such things, believed that she slept, and laid her on a divan in the palace, kneeling beside her and kissing her white hand. At length Livia recovered her senses.

"Where am I?" was her bewildered question. She learned then that she was the bride of the king of gnomes. She threw herself in tears at the feet of her captor, and besought him to restore her to her father-protesting that she could never love one of another race than her

Three days she remained thus: the spirit still invisible, though hovering near her, and fulfilling her every wish-save one. At length, tired of weeping in solitude, Livia called him. He stood before her in an attitude of humility—and asked"What would my mistress?"

"Must I die here with ennui?" cried

the princess, sobbing. "Go bring me company-but none of your goblins-I want society of my own species!"

The spirit bowed low and vanished. Presently he returned with a small rod of gold, and a basket of fresh turnips. "Here is company for thee," he said, offering them to the lady.

64

Livia looked at him in suprise, and said: "It is well, to steal me first from my home, and then to mock me!" "Not so, fairest princess;" said the arch gnome. I do not mock thee. But may not bring into this enchanted place any of human race save thyself. Touch one of these turnips with the rod, however, and call up whatsoever form thou wilt."

I

Livia took the staff, and commanded the presence of a maiden. Instantly one of rare beauty stood before her. Again she bade her return to the state of a turnip, threw it from the window, and touching the others, summoned her lost companions. The vegetables instantly assumed their shape, and looked and spoke so like them, that the princess herself was half deceived. Her spirit lover made himself invisible, and watched with delight her sports and conversation with these mock damsels.

Several days this continued, till one morning, when Livia went into the hall of the palace, where her attendants were usually in waiting, she saw, instead of fair young girls, a group of withered old women, apparently in the last stages of feebleness and disease. Affrighted, she fled from the hall into the garden, and summoned her lover.

"False spirit" cried she, weeping, when he appeared; "thou hast changed my companions! Restore them to youth!"

"That is impossible!" answered the gnome king. "I cannot check the course of nature, though I may command her strength. Thy maidens continued young, so long as there was juice in the turnips; but must fade and die when that is gone. But thou mayest return them to their former state, and I will fetch thee fresh vegetables."

Livia was perforce content with this;

and returning to the hall, did as he requested. The spirit brought her a fresh basket of turnips; this time, however, scarcely half filled. The princess asked wherefore he had brought so few.

"These," replied he, "grow on a small spot of ground, on the highest point of the mountain. Thou hast been somewhat wasteful of them; and must wait some days, till those I have sown anew have time to grow."

"How many hast thou sown?" demanded Livia.

"There will be enough."

"I will know how many are sown!" "How can I know ?"

66

"Count them!" cried the haughty princess. • Go, and if I find none want ing, I shall know that thou truly lovest me, as thou sayest."

The spirit smiled, and disappeared, to fulfill the command of his capricious mistress. Livia smiled also; and the instant he was gone, took from the basket the largest turnip, and changed it into a winged horse, which at her bidding bore her, swifter than the eagle, back to the valley, and her father's castle. Loud huzzas from the people welcomed her, and she told Prince Barzanuph all that had happened.

Meanwhile the gnome king, having three times counted over his field, to make sure, returned to his magic palace, and sought his bride in vain. He caught a glimpse of her as on her winged steed she swept over the boundary of his domain; and in his anger he rolled up a heap of clouds, and sent thunder, stone and hail after her. But she was already beyond his power, and his bolts only shivered the old oaks that had stood a thousand years. When his first vexation was past, he resolved to win back his lost bride by entreaties. Taking the form of a beautiful youth, he went to the prince's castle, and mingled among the guests at the banquet given in honor of her return. Throwing himself at her feet-"Return, Livia!" he cried; "return! for I love thee, and without thee must in despair abjure the high nature that denies me thy love!"

The beautiful princess only laughed scornfully, and answered "Fool, I would never love thee, even wert thou in fairer form than that thou wearest now! I despise thee! Away! and hide thyself in thy mountain's deepest pit," Rübenzähler!" (turnip counter.)

And all the assembled guests burst in

Such is the story of the first appearance of Rübezahl, told in the nursery tales of the region about the giant mountains. Many a boy has climbed to the summit, and shouted the popular name given to the spirit, in curiosity or defiance; and tradition reports that he has sometimes revealed himself. An anecdote is given of him that serves as a continuation of the first.

After the lapse of centuries, it was the pleasure of the mountain spirit to resume his studies of human life. But he determined never again to yield to the power of love, and to abjure sensibility forever. His capricious humor alone should govern his actions.

As he again looked forth from the mountain crest, he saw the whole scene changed. Numerous dwellings were built on the slope; the woods had been cleared away, villages were thickly scattered; and here and there appeared the towers of a city. The castle of Prince Barzanuph had been destroyed, and his princedom was extinct.

They have planted themselves on my ground," murmured the spirit, " as if they and not I were lords of the soil! Perchance they know not of my existence. I will observe some of their doings."

He descended to the valley, in the form of a stout peasant, and hired himself as a laborer to a countryman. So valuable were his services that his employer treated Hans--so he called him-with great consideration, and he liked his abode well enough, till an accident changed his mind. The farmer one day bade him go of an errand over the mountain, to a distant village. He was ready for the journeyhis knapsack on his shoulders, and his stick in his hand, before the door-when the farmer's pretty wife came out and said kindly: Be careful, Hans, to be over the mountain before night, so that Rübezahl does not molest you."

66

Hans stood astonished, to hear the nickname given him by the Princess Livia three hundred years before, thus repeated by the handsome countrywoman. "Rūbezahl!" he muttered between his teeth, "who is he?"

"You know not who Rübezahl is!"

exclaimed the farmer's wife; and she called to her husband and the boys and girls in her employ, who came toward them that here was a lad who did not know who Rübezahl was. They all burst out a laughing, repeating the name. Hans grew angry, and asked again: "Who is the fellow, then ?"

"Do not call Rübezahl fellow!" cried the young woman, in alarm: " He may do you a mischief! I will tell you all about him, that you may be on your guard!" And she told him the whole story, and ended by saying that the ugly giant Rübezahl now plied his works at night on the crest of the mountain, where he frightened people, and sometimes pushed them over the precipice.

Poor Hans was much disturbed at hearing this mixture of truth and falsehood. He ventured to say it could not be that the spirit of the mountains would seek to injure harmless wanderers; it was more probable they had ventured too near the precipice in stormy weather, and perished from their own heedlessness. The woman insisted, however, that the evil gnome had done it. Nay, the foreman was bold enough to assert that he had met Rübezahl in the shape of a sooty coalman, with fiery eyes, a tail like a cow's, a horn on his head, and a long red beard. By good luck, he (the foreman) had a rosary with him, and had put the evil one to flight.

Hans laughed aloud. "You are a shameless liar!" cried he to the foreman, "You have never seen Rübezahl !"

The man's face flushed, and he answered furiously: "Liar yourself-how dare you say that to me?"

66

Well," said Hans, “would you not know Rübezähl again, if you had seen him once?"

“That would 1," cried the foreman, "but he knows better than to appear to me again, I have taught him manners!" "I will teach you, then," exclaimed Hans, and gave him a cuff on either side of his head, where there instantly appeared a pair of asses' ears.

The foreman stood petrified with fear: the others screamed, when they saw the miracle.

"Now you can say truly," said the mountain spirit, with a scornful laugh, "that you have seen Rübezahl, and you may swear by your ears, if they will not believe you. Thank my good humor that you come off so well! As for you," to the others," the spirit will wring the

neck of any who dare call him by his nickname!" So saying, he walked away, leaving all who heard him speechless with amazement and dread. The unfortunate foreman kept his asses' ears as long as he lived; for as often as he cut them, they would grow again.

After this time, it was Rübezahl's fancy to play off jokes of his own upon men, little heeding whether for their good or their harm. As he had been represented among them as a black coalman, with red beard and fiery eyes, he frequently assumed that disguise, without the addition, however, of the horn and tail, except when they were necessary to produce the greater effect. It was soon known that it was not so safe to venture upon the mountain. Till now stories had been told of the spirit and his wild doings, but they had been witnessed by no one; and the few, who, like Michel the foreman, declared they had seen him, pretended to possess the pow er of driving him away. Nobody now ventured, as far as his domain extended, to boast at his expense; and mindful of his warning, the peasants called him no longer by his nickname, but by the more respectful title, "The Lord of the Mountains."

Rübezahl was a good-humored spirit, and his pranks were like those of a willful child, who knows no law but his own caprice. He played all manner of tricks on many who came into his power, adapting them to the persons and their occupations. He was particularly mischievous towards the peasant girls, who talked continually of him, and stood in great fear of his wayward humors. Whenever a young girl ventured to cross the mountain, he would cause the wind to make sad disorder in her dress, while his company of gnomes stood round, and enjoyed her embarrassment. If a pair of lovers came, and ventured to seat themselves on the green moss by the wayside, Rübezahl changed the moss into a bog and shrieked with laughter as they fell backwards into it, and struggled out covered with mud. He would frighten the old women by showing them hideous faces; in short he assumed as many different shapes as there were dif ferent sorts of people, on whom be practiced his pranks, and could not be recognized by reason of the variety of his disguises. At one time, as a guide, he led a learned professor, who was surveying the land, round and round the moun

tain, while he believed himself going straight to the top, and put down in his book a very erroneous account of its height. Again, in the semblance of a woodcutter he encountered a botanist and showed him a great variety of rare plants, to which the botanist gave learn. ed Latin names, that sounded strange in Rübezahl's ears. Impatient at this scientific display, after an unusually tedious lecture, he suddenly said:

"You are a very learned gentleman, sir, and know almost everything; tell me to whom belongs the ground we are treading on."

"As far as I know," replied the professor, "this is Silesian ground; Silesia is a province of the Prussian crown: ergo, or consequently, it belongs to our gracious sovereign, the reigning king of Prussia."

"It is false!" cried the pseudo-woodcutter, it belongs to the Spirit of the Mountains vulgarly called Rübezahl !"

The botanist shook his head incredulously: "You should, as a reasonable man, pay no heed to such idle fables. They may do for old women at their distaffs. The Rübezahl people talk of, has never really existed, but is a sickly creation of fantasy-a nonentity-that is, a nothing."

Scarce had the man of science uttered the last words, than Rübezahl, towering like a giant, stood before him and, angry ly snatching away his book of plants, slapped him in the face, and then chased him through bush and bog, sending a shower of stones after him, down the mountain. He reached a place of shelter half dead with fear and his bruises, and swore he never again would go up. on the Riesengebirge, the abode of all the kobolds, dwarfs, trolds, and gnomes in existence !

The following tradition is preserved in the collection of Musäus :

On the spot, in the Riesengebirge, where now stands a celebrated watering place, there once lived a poor peasant named Peter. He was very poor, and found it hard, by the labor of his bands, to give bread to a sick wife and five hungry children. He toiled day and night, but could barely supply their most press. ing wants, while privation and hardship were fast destroying the life of his help

mate.

"If I had only a hundred dollars," sighed the heart-broken man, “that I

might buy a piece of ground and a. pair of oxen. Could I not find among so many rich people one who would give me that sum as a loan and save us all? I would be so thankful—and pay it back in a year."

Try it," said the feeble voice of his wife; "I have often begged you to go to my relations beyond the mountain, and tell them of our need."

"They have no heart," said Peter bitterly, "or they would have inquired after you, knowing us to be in such poverty."

"Rich people," answered the wife, "like to be applied to; you must try them."

Peter resolved to do so, and rising, took up his hat and stick.

"I will go this very night," said he, " and to-morrow be home betimes. Should I fail, God have mercy on you, Anna, and the children, for I know not who will help us!" So saying, he embraced his wife and little ones, and set off on his way to her kindred.

He arrived the next morning, weak and weary at the village where his wealthy cousins lived, and stopped first to rest himself at the inn, and dry his clothes, for it had stormed during the night. He had no money, and could not ask for any other refreshment.

It fell out as he had feared. Nobody would help him! Some made frivolous excuses, some treated him rudely, and abused him for being in such want. The last at whose house he applied bade him begone, with threats and execrations. Peter turned away in despair; but a poorly-dressed man took him by the arm and said: "Come away, these are bad people. I cannot help you, indeed, but your wretched looks tell me you need food and rest, and you shall find both at my hut."

Peter followed the herdsman to his hut, took a piece of bread and a cup of brandy and water, and started on his homeward journey without stopping to repose. When he reached the crest of the mountain, just half-way, he could go no further from exhaustion, and sank, half swooning, under a fir tree. After a few moments' rest, the horrors of his condition rose vividly before him. To return to his starving wife and children, and tell them there was no hope! He would have fed them with his heart's blood!

Suddenly he started from a gloomy

reverie. "There is one means yet!" cried he. "Rich men have no mercy; but a mountain spirit reigns here! often capricious and mischievous, it is true, but goodhumored and generous!"

He stood up, and removing his hat, called as loud as he could, trembling as he did so: " Master Rübezahl! be so good as to show yourself!"

There was a powerful rush of wind that threw poor Peter to the ground, and when with difficulty he got up, he saw Rübezahl, in his well-known form of a coalman, standing before him.

"Miserable peasant!" said the spirit in a voice like low thunder, "knowest thou not that he must die who dares to call me by that hateful name? Choose now, whether I shall wring thy neck or break thy fool's skull with my club!"

Peter's teeth chattered, but despair gave him courage. "Do. what you please, master spirit," answered he, "though my fault was from ignorance only. But before I die, I have a peti. tion."

Fool!" growled Rübezahl, “am I a Jew, that thou talkest to me of interest? I will give thee nothing!"

"Nay," said Peter, pleadingly, "you know, good sir, how wretched we are; you give me life; you will give me also the means of living."

"Thou art a fool," answered the spirit; but he smiled. "Well, be it so; I will lend thee a hundred dollars; but mark me it must be repaid in a year!" "Be assured of that!" said Peter. "Follow me!" commanded Rübezahl. The poor man followed, with a beating heart, for they plunged into the deepest recesses of the wood. At length Rübezahl stopped by a steep rock, before which stood a gigantic fir tree blasted with the lightning. This he pointed out to Peter that he might know the spot again. Then he stamped on the ground, and the wall cleaving, discovered the entrance to a large cavern. They descended into it, and having at last reached the bottom, Peter found himself in an immense rocky vault, lighted by a

huge lamp suspended from the lofty ceiling, whose light was gleamed back from thousands of precious stones, imbedded in the walls. In the centre stood a monstrous caldron, filled with shining Wildman's dollars, and all around stood smaller vessels holding ducats of gold.

"Take what you want," said Rübezahl, "and I will write out the note of hand!"

He turned away for paper, pen and ink, not once looking at Peter, who, however, was too honest to be tempted to take more than the hundred dollars, which he counted, and then told the spirit he was ready.

"Read and sign!" said Rübezahl; and he signed the note promising to pay in a year and a day, with heart-felt thanks. Then they ascended to the earth's surface, and Peter ran homewards as if borne by the wind, only stopping at the next village to purchase medicine for his wife, and a few articles of food. He arrived at his home about noon.

66

Bring you help?" asked the sick woman; and the children asked, " Bring you bread, father?"

Peter laid a bag full of bread on the table, and showed his wife the money, the sight of which gave her new strength. She thought her relations had lent it, and Peter allowed her to remain in that belief.

The poor man speedily purchased a piece of ground, with stock and implements of husbandry, and seed to sow it, and worked hard from morning till night. The wife soon recovered, and labored also within doors, while the children did their part. Their industry met with due reward. The ground produced abundantly; their wares sold well; in short, a blessing seemed to have come upon the house with the money so mysteriously obtained. When winter came, Peter owned a cow and three goats, besides his oxen; and in the spring the cow had a calf, and the grain he had sown looked as flourishing as possible.

The time now arrived for payment, and Peter found that the produce of his harvesting, Anna's spinning, and the children's labor, had yielded one hundred and twenty dollars. It would have been basely ungrateful in him not to prove honest, when such blessings had followed him.

Early in the morning of the day on which the money was due, he awakened his wife and children, and bade them put on their holiday clothes, to go and thank