The Norwegian Fairy Book Part 17

"Brother Peter can sc.r.a.pe out his cook-pot when he has loaned it out, Brother Paul gets a crust of bread when he lends out his frying-pan; but of what use is this wretched cat to me!" he said, in spite of all. Yet he stroked the cat, and pressed her to his cheek, and scratched her, and this pleased the cat so very much that she purred more than on the other occasions, and stuck her tail up into the air as straight as a rod.

"Wait, wait, I will help you yet," said the cat, "wait, wait, I will help you yet!"

On the third day they set out again, the cat in the lead, and Ebe following. After a time it occurred to him to go back and let the mice out of the house, so that they would not be altogether starved in the old hut; and the cat tripped on alone. After she had gone her way, tipp, tapp, tipp, tapp, for a while, she came to a dense pine forest, and there she met a father bear, a mother bear and a baby bear. The cat crept softly up to them, and all at once she was hanging by her claws to the father bear's head.

"If you do not go where I want you to, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!" said the cat, and spit and arched her back. Then the father bear did not dare do anything save what the cat wished, and now they dashed past Ebe, who had just carried all the young mice over the threshold, like a storm, over stick and stone, from cliff to cliff, so that the earth trembled and shook. The king was just standing in the hallway, and was not a little surprised to see such guests arriving.

"I am to deliver a kind greeting from Ebe, and ask whether my lord king might not care to have this bear for a general or royal counselor," said the cat. The king was more than pleased to secure such a creature for his nearest adviser, who could doubt it.

"Tell him that I am much obliged, but that I do not at all know how to show my appreciation," said the king.

"Well, he would like to marry your youngest daughter!" said the cat.

"Yes, but that is asking a good deal," said the king. "He really ought to pay me a visit."

"Ebe does not enter such plain houses," said the cat.

"Has he a handsomer castle than this?" asked the king.

"Handsomer? Why, your castle seems like the shabbiest hut in comparison with his!" was the cat's reply.

"You dare come into my presence, and tell me that there is some one living in my kingdom who is more handsomely housed than I, the king!"

shouted the king, beside himself with rage. He came near wringing the cat's neck.

"You might wait until you see it," said the cat. And the king said yes, he would wait. "But if you have told me a falsehood, you shall die, and though you had seven lives," said he.

In the morning the king and the whole court set out to travel to Ebe Ashpeter's castle. The cat was in the little hut, and called for Ebe, thinking it would be best if both of them got underway an hour earlier.

After they had gone a while, they met some folk who were herding sheep; and the sheep were bleating and grazing over the whole plain. They were as large as full-grown calves, and their wool was so long that it dragged along the ground after them. "To whom do the sheep belong?"

asked the cat. "To Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill," said the shepherds.

"The court is coming past in a moment," said the cat, "and if then you do not at once say that they belong to Ebe, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!" said the cat, and spat and arched her back, and showed her teeth. Then the shepherds were so frightened that they at once promised to do as the cat had ordered.

"But to whom do all these sheep belong?" asked the king, when he came by with the court somewhat later. "They are every bit as handsome as my own!"

"They belong to Ebe," said the shepherds.

Then the cat and Ebe wandered on for a while, and came to a dense forest slope. There they met folk who were tending goats. The goats skipped and leaped about everywhere, and gave such fine milk that better could no where be found.

"To whom do the goats belong?" asked the cat.

"To Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill," said the herdsmen. Then the cat again went through her ferocious preparations, and the herdsmen were so frightened that they did not dare oppose her wishes.

"Now who in the world can be the owner of so many goats?" asked the king. "I myself have none finer!"

"They belong to Ebe," said the herdsmen.

Then they wandered on for a while, and met folk who were tending cows: wherever one looked the cows lowed and glistened, and each yielded milk enough for three. When the cat heard that these herdsmen were also in the service of Helge-Hal of the Blue Hill, she spat once more, and arched her back, and then all the herdsmen were ready that moment to say what she wished.

"But in heaven's name, to whom do all these beautiful cattle belong?"

asked the king. "There are no such cattle in my whole kingdom!"

"They belong to Lord Ebe," said the herdsmen.

Then they wandered on for a long, long time. At last they came to a great plain, and there they met horse-herders; and horses whinnied and disported themselves over the whole plain, and their coats were so fine that they glistened as though gilded, and each horse was worth a whole castle.

"For whom do you herd these horses?" asked the cat.

"For Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill," the herders replied.

"Well, the court will come by here in a little while," said the cat, "and if you do not say you are herding them for Ebe, I will scratch out your eyes, and drive you over rock and precipice!" said the cat, and she spat, and showed her teeth and claws, and grew so angry her hair stood up all along her back. Then the herders were terribly frightened, and did not dare do anything but what the cat wished.

"But in the name of heaven, to whom do all these horses belong?" asked the king, when he came by with his court.

"They belong to Ebe," said the herders.

"I never have seen or heard anything like it in all my life!" cried the king. "This Ebe is such a distinguished lord that it is past my understanding!"

The cat and Ebe had long since gone on their way, and had wandered far and ever farther over hill and rock. In the evening, at dusk, they came to a royal castle that glittered and s.h.i.+mmered as though it were of the purest silver and gold--which it was. Yet it was gloomy and depressing, and lonely and barren there, and nowhere was there a sign of life.

Here they went in, and the cat stood with a cake of rye meal just below the door. Suddenly there came a thundering and a thumping so that the earth trembled, and the whole castle shook, and that was the troll who was coming home. And suddenly all was quiet again, and before they knew it, Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill had thrust his three great horrible heads in at the door.

"Let me in! Let me in!" he cried, so that every one s.h.i.+vered. "Wait, wait a bit while I tell you what the rye had to go through before he was made into this cake," said the cat, and spoke to him in the sweetest way. "First he was threshed, and then he was beaten, and then he was pounded, and then he was thumped, and then he was thrown from one wall to another, and then he was sifted through a sieve...."

"Let me in! Let me in, you chatterbox!" cried the troll, and he was so furious that the sparks flew from him.

"Wait a bit, wait a bit. I will tell you what the rye had to go through before he was made into this cake!" said the cat, and he spoke to him still more sweetly.

"First he was threshed, and then he was beaten, and then he was pounded, and then he was thumped, and then he was thrown from one wall to another, and then he was sifted through a sieve, and shaken here and there, and then he was put on the drying-board, and then in the stove, until it grew so hot that he puffed up more and more, and wanted to get out, but could not," said the cat, and took her time.

"Get out of the way and let me in!" cried the troll once more, and nearly burst with rage; but the cat acted as though she did not hear him, and talked down the blue from the sky, and went up and down the while, and whenever the troll tried to come in, she met him beneath the door with the cake.

"O, but do take a look at the s.h.i.+ning maiden coming up there behind the mountain!" said the cat, after she had talked at length about the sufferings of the rye. And Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill turned his three heads around in order to see the beautiful maiden, too. Then the sun rose, and the troll stiffened into stone. Now Ebe obtained all the riches that the troll had possessed, the sheep and goats, the cows and all the spirited horses, and the handsome golden castle, and some big bags of money besides.

"Here come the king and all his court," said the cat. "Just go out before the door and receive them!" So Ebe got up and went to meet them.

"You are indeed a very distinguished lord!" said the king to him. "So far as I am concerned you may have the youngest princess!"

Then they started brewing and baking on a large scale in the greatest haste, and everything was made ready for the wedding. On the first day of the feast the cat came and begged the bridegroom to cut off her head. This he did not at all want to do; but the cat spat and showed her teeth, and then Ebe did not dare disobey her. But when the head fell to the ground, the cat turned into a most handsome prince. He married the second princess, and as the wedding procession was on its way to church, they met a third prince who was looking for a wife, and he took the oldest princess. Then they all three celebrated their weddings so that the story went the rounds in twelve kingdoms.

"Spin, span, spun, Now our tale is done!"

NOTE

The tale of "Helge-Hal in the Blue Hill" (Bergh, No. 2, p. 19) is delightfully told. There is the timid, abidingly helpless nit-wit, and the wise and energetic cat, who is quite at home in the ancient wisdom that enables her to render trolls harmless. Their attention must be held through the night by means of some pretext, a meaningless tale, for instance, until the first ray of the rising sun falls on them, when they turn to stone, or have to burst. In the Edda this is what happens to the dwarf Alvis, so full of sinister lore.