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The Marsh King’s Daughter 1 page

Hans Christian Andersen

Words, you might not know:


tapestry, cushion, pine-chip, croak, broad, sorcerer, contrary, lung, clang, cask, mead, soot, bard, refrain, proverb, pasture, wearisome, acacia, bloom, crescent, glitter, mosque, minaret, locust, swallowing, quarrel, pecked, passionate, tulip, limbs, swallow, wisp, straw, snapped, pinch, deceitful, saddle, dwarf, webbed, toll, beckoned, roundabout, bramle, berries, somnambulist, stamped, blossom, fans, sprinkled, anthill, ladybirds, winged, magpie, cock, hasten, eyelid, snail, foster-mother, finches, partridges, cranes, triangle, finches, ibis, stuffed, manes, slender, verandah.

 

CHAPTER ONE The storks tell their little ones many stories, and they are all about moors and reed banks, and suited to their age. The youngest of them are quite satisfied with "kribble, krabble," or such nonsense, and think it great. But the elder ones want something with a deeper meaning, or at least something about their own family.We know one of the longest and oldest stories which the storks tell. It has been repeated from mouth to mouth, from one stork-mother to another, for thousands of years. Each stork has told it better than the last. And now we plan to tell it better than all.The first stork pair who told it lived at the time it happened. They had their nest on the roof of the Viking's house, which stood near the wild moorlands of Wendsyssell. That is, to speak more correctly, the great moorland, high up in the north of Jutland. This moorland is still an immense area of marshy ground, about which we can read in the "Official Directory". It is said that in old times the place was a lake. Now the moorland extends for miles in every direction. It is surrounded by damp meadows, dangerous swamps, and marshy ground covered with turf, on which grow bilberry bushes and short trees. There are almost always thick fogs over this region, which, seventy years ago, was full of wolves. It may well be called the Wild Moor. One can easily imagine, with such great marsh and lake, how lonely and sad it was a thousand years ago.Many things may be noticed now that existed then. The reeds grow to the same height, and have the same kind of long, purple-brown leaves, with their feathery tips. There still stands the birch, with its white bark and its delicate, loosely hanging leaves. The flies still wear a thin dress of the same cut, and the favourite colours of the stork are white, with black and red for stockings. The people, certainly, in those days, wore very different dresses to those they now wear. But if any of them, be he a rich man or a poor one, master or servant, stepped on the marshy ground of the moor, they met with the same fate a thousand years ago as they do now. The poor fellow sank, and went down to the Marsh King, as he is called. The Marsh King rules in the waters of the great moorland empire. They also called him "Swamp King," but we like the name of "Marsh King" better, and we will give him that,name as the storks do. Very little is known of the Marsh King's rule, but that, perhaps, is a good thing.Near the moorlands, and not far from the North Sea, there was the castle of the Viking. It was built of wood, and it had three storeys. There was also a tower and stone cellars. On top of the roof the stork had built his nest. There the stork-mother sat on her eggs and felt sure her hatching would come to something.One evening, the stork-father stayed out rather late, and when he came home he seemed quite busy and important, "I have something awful to tell you," he said to the stork-mother, "Keep it to yourself then," she said. "Remember that I am hatching eggs. It may upset me, and will affect them.""You must know it at once," he said. "The daughter of our host in Egypt has arrived here. She has the courage to take this journey, and now she is lost.""She, who is from the race of the fairies, is it?" cried the stork-mother. "Oh, tell me all about it. You know I do not like to be kept waiting at a time when I am hatching eggs.""Well, you see, mother," he said, "she believed what the doctors said, that the moor - flowers which grow about here would heal her sick father. She has flown to the north in swan's plumage, in company with some other swan-princesses, who come to these parts every year to renew their youth. She came, and where is she now!""You enter into particulars too much," said the stork-mother, "and the eggs may take cold." "Well," he said, "this evening I went among the reeds, and while I was there three swans came. Something in their manner of flying seemed to say to me, 'Look carefully now. There is one not all swan, only swan's feathers. ' You know, mother, you have the same intuitive feeling that I have. You know whether a thing is right or not immediately.""Yes, of course," she said; "but tell me about the princess. I am tired of hearing about the swan's feathers.""Well, you know that in the middle of the moor there is something like a lake," said the stork-father. "You can see the edge of it if you raise yourself a little. Just there, by the reeds and the green banks, lay the stump of on old tree. On this stump the three swans stood flapping their wings, and looking about them. One of them threw off her plumage, and I immediately recognized her as one of the princesses of our home in Egypt. There she sat, without any clothes. Only her long, black hair covered her body. I heard her tell the two others to take great care of the swan's plumage, while she dipped down into the water to get the flowers which she thought she saw there. The others nodded, and picked up the feather dress. I wonder, what will become of it? I thought this, and she most likely asked herself the same question. If so, she received an answer, a very practical one. The two swans rose up and flew away with her swan's plumage. 'Dive down now!' they cried. 'You will never more fly in the swan's plumage. You will never again see Egypt. Here, on the moor, you will remain.' And with these words they tore the swan's plumage into a thousand pieces, and then the two deceitful princesses flew away.""Why, that is terrible," said the stork-mother. "I feel as if I could hardly bear to hear any more, but you must tell me what happened next.""The princess burst into tears. Her hot tears fell on the stump, which was really not a stump at all but the Marsh King himself, who lives and rules in marshy ground. I saw myself how the stump of the tree turned round, and was a tree no more. The long branches like arms were extended from it. Then the poor child was terribly frightened, and started to run away. She tried to cross the green, slippery ground. But it cannot bear any weight, much less hers. She fell into the water and quickly sank, and the stump dived immediately after her. In fact, it was he who drew her down. Great black bubbles rose up, and with these every trace of the two disappeared. And now the princess is buried in the wild marsh. And she will never now carry flowers to Egypt to cure her father.""It is too bad that you told me this," she said, "at such a time as this. The eggs may suffer. But I think the princess will soon find help. Someone will try to help her.""I want to go to the marsh every day," he said, "to see if anything happens." And so he did.A long time passed, but at last he saw a green stalk growing out of the deep, marshy ground. As it reached the surface of the marsh, a leaf appeared, and then there was a bud.One morning, when the stork-father was flying over the stalk, he saw that the power of the sun's rays had made the bud open, and in the cup of the flower lay a charming child - a little girl, looking as if she had just come out of a bath. The little one was so like the Egyptian princess, that the stork, at the first moment, thought it was the princess herself. Then he decided that it was much more likely to be the daughter of the princess and the Marsh King. This explained also that she lay in the cup of a water-lily. "But she cannot be left to lie here," thought the stork, "and in my nest there are already so many. But stay,I have thought of something. The wife of the Viking has no children, and how often she has wished for a little one. People always say the stork brings the little ones. I will do so in earnest this time. I shall fly with the child to the Viking's wife. How glad she will be!"And then the stork took the little girl from the flower-cup, flew to the castle, and put the beautiful child on the bed of the Viking's wife. Then he flew back quickly to the stork-mother and told her what he had seen and done. The little storks listened to it all, because they were then quite old enough to do so. "So you see," he continued, "that the princess is not dead. She has sent her little one up here. And now I have found a home for her.""Ah, I said it would be so long ago," said the stork-mother. "But now think a little about your own family. Our travelling time is near, and I sometimes feel a little irritation already under the wings. The cuckoos and the nightingale are already gone, and the quails say they will go too as soon as the wind is favourable." CHAPTER TWO The Viking's wife was very happy when she awoke the next morning and found the beautiful little girl lying beside her. She kissed her, but she cried terribly, and struck her with its arms and legs. The child did not seem to be pleased at all. At last the girl cried herself to sleep. When she lay there so still and quiet, she was a most beautiful little girl. The Viking's wife was so happy, that her body and soul were full of joy. Her heart felt so light within her, that it seemed to her that her husband and his soldiers, who were absent, could come home as suddenly and unexpectedly as the little child had done. She and her servants spent much time preparing everything for the arrival of the Viking. They hung the long, coloured tapestry, on which she and her maids had worked pictures of their gods, Odin, Thor, and Friga. The servants polished the old shields which were used to decorate the walls of the hall. Cushions were placed on the seats, and dry wood was laid on the fireplace in the centre of the hall to make a quick fire. The Viking's wife herself helped with the work, so that at night she felt very tired, and quickly fell asleep. When she awoke, just before morning, she was terribly alarmed to find that the girl had disappeared. She sprang from her bed, lighted a pine-chip, and searched all round the room. Then, at last, in that part of the bed where her feet had been, lay not the child, but a big, ugly frog. The woman felt disgust when she saw this frog, and seized a heavy stick to kill it. But the creature looked at her with such strange, sad eyes, that she could not strike the blow. Once more she searched round the room. Then the frog gave a low, painful croak. She sprang from the bed and opened the window. At the same moment the sun rose, and threw its beams through the window. The sun's rays moved on, till they stopped on the bed where the great frog lay. Suddenly the frog's broad mouth became small and red. The limbs stretched out and extended themselves till they took a beautiful shape. There was the pretty child lying before her, and the ugly frog was gone. "How is this?" cried the Viking's wife. "Have I had a bad dream? Is it not my own lovely child that lies there?" Then she kissed her, but the girl struggled and fought, and bit as if she was a little wild cat.The Viking did not return on that day, nor the next. He was, however, on the way home, but the wind, so favourable to the storks, was against him. It blew towards the south. A wind in favour of one is often against another.After two or three days had passed, it became clear to the Viking's wife what the matter was with the child. It was under the influence of a powerful sorcerer. In the daytime it was charming. She looked like an angel, but with a temper bad and wild. At night, in the form of an ugly frog, it was quiet and sad, with eyes full of sorrow. Here were two natures, changing with the absence and return of sunlight. And so it happened that in the daytime the child, with the actual form of its mother, was wild as her father, the Marsh King. At night, on the contrary, she looked like her father, while she had the heart and mind of its mother. Who could remove the wicked spell of the sorcerer? The wife of the Viking lived in constant pain and sorrow about it. She liked the little creature, but she could not explain to her husband why she had come to live in the house. She expected him to return soon. She realized that if he knew that the girl had been enchanted he would order the servants to throw the poor child on the road, as was the custom at that time, and let anyone take it away. The good wife of the Viking could not let that happen. So she decided that the Viking should never see the child except in the daytime.One morning the Viking's wife and her servants heard a loud flapping of storks' wings over the roof. More than a hundred pairs of storks had stopped there during the night, to have rest after their excursion. Now they flew up, and prepared for the journey to the south."All the husbands are here, and ready!" they cried; "wives and children also!""How light we are!" screamed the young storks. "Something pleasant is coming to us. Ah, how nice it is to travel into foreign lands!""Hold yourselves properly in the line with us," cried fathers and mothers. "Do not use your beaks so much; it tries the lungs." And then the storks flew away.About the same time sounded the clang of the trumpets across the moors. The Viking had landed with his men. They were returning home with great treasure from the Gallic coast, where the people, as did also the people of Britain, often cried in alarm, "Save us from the north men."Life came with them into the castle of the Viking on the moorland. A great cask of mead was brought into the hall, roast meat was served up, so that they might have a huge celebration. The fire crackled, and the smoke went towards the roof. The soot fell on the men from the ceiling, but they were used to all these things. Many guests were invited. They received expensive presents. All wrongs were forgotten. They drank a lot, and threw in each other's faces the bones that were left. It was seen as a sign of good feeling among them. A bard, who was a kind of musician as well as soldier, and who had been with the Viking in his expedition, and knew what to sing about, gave them one of his best songs, in which he praised all their war deeds. The song had this refrain:"Gold and good things will fly away,Friends and enemies must die one day;Every man on earth must die,But a famous name will never die."And with that they beat on their shields, and hammered on the table with knives and bones, in a most shocking manner.The Viking's wife sat in the chair in the open hall. She wore a silk expensive dress, golden bracelets, and large amber beads. The bard named her in his song, and spoke of the treasure which she had brought to her husband. The Viking had already seen the wonderfully beautiful child in the daytime, and was pleased with her beauty. He liked even her wild ways. He said the little girl would grow up to be a heroine. She would be strong and brave, and she would have the character of a man.The full cask of mead soon became empty, and a fresh one was brought in the hall. These were people who liked to eat and drink much. The old proverb, which everyone knows, says that "the cattle know when to leave their pasture, but a foolish man does not know the measure of his own appetite." Yes, they all knew this, but men may know what is right, and yet often do wrong. They also knew that "even the welcome guest becomes wearisome when he sits too long in the house." But there they remained, because meat and mead are good things. And so at the Viking's house they stayed, and enjoyed themselves. Oh, it was a wonderful time! CHAPTER THREE Once more in the same year the Viking left the castle, though the storms of autumn had already begun. He went with his soldiers to the coast of Britain • He said that it was just an excursion of pleasure across the water, so his wife remained at home with the little girl. It is quite certain the foster-mother began to love the poor frog, with its gentle eyes and its deep sighs, even better than the little beauty, who bit and fought with all around her.Autumn rains, which destroy the leaves of the wood, had already fallen on the forest and moors. Feathers of birds, as they call the snow, flew about in thick showers, and winter was coming. The sparrows occupied the stork's nest, and talked about the absent owners in their own way. Where were staying now the stork pair and all their young ones?The storks were in the land of Egypt, where the sun was bright and warm, as it is here at midsummer. Acacias were in full bloom all over the country. The crescent glittered brightly from the cupolas of the mosques. And on the minarets sat many of the storks, resting after their long journey. Their nests lay close to each other on the columns and arches of temples in forgotten cities. The trees lifted themselves as sunshades over them. The gray pyramids looked like broken shadows in the clear air of the desert. The banks of the Nile were covered with frogs. It was a most acceptable prospect for the stork families. The young storks thought their eyes deceived them, everything around appeared so beautiful."It is always like this here, and this is how we live in our warm country," said the stork-mother. And the thought made the young ones almost beside themselves with pleasure."Is there anything more to see?" they asked. "Are we going into the country?""There is nothing more for us to see," answered the stork-mother. "Beyond this nice region there are thick forests, where only an elephant could force a passage for himself with his great feet. The snakes are too large, and the lizards too quick for us to catch. Then there is the desert. Your eyes will be full of sand there with the lightest wind. Here is the best place for you, where there are frogs and locusts. Here I shall remain, and so must you." And so they stayed.The parents sat in the nest on the minaret, and rested. Then they were busy cleaning their feathers, and sharpening their beaks against their red stockings. Then they stretched out their necks, saluted each other, and raised their heads with the high forehead and soft feathers. Their brown eyes shone with intelligence. The female young ones walked, looking at the other young storks, and swallowing a frog at every third step, or picking up a little snake with their beaks, in a way they considered very becoming, and besides it tasted very good. The young male storks soon began to quarrel. They struck at each other with their wings, and pecked with their beaks till the blood came. And in this manner many of the young ladies and gentlemen found mates. It was, of course, what they wanted, and indeed what they lived for. Then they returned to a nest, and there the quarrelling began again, because in hot countries almost all people are violent and passionate. But for all that it was pleasant, especially for the old people, who watched them with great joy: they liked all that their young ones did. It was wonderful to be there. Every day there was sunshine, plenty to eat, and nothing to think of but pleasure.But in the beautiful palace of their Egyptian host, as they called him, there was no pleasure at all. The rich and powerful lord of the palace lay on his bed, in the centre of the great hall, with its many-coloured walls looking like a great tulip. The king was weak and powerless in all his limbs, and lay like a mummy. His family and servants stood round him. He was not dead, but he was very sick. The wonderful moor-flower from the north, which was promised to him by her who loved him so much, had not arrived. His young and beautiful daughter who, in swan's plumage, had flown over land and seas to the distant north, had never returned. She is dead, so the two swans had said when they came home. They made up quite a story about her. This is what they told:"We three flew away together through the air," they said. "A hunter noticed us, and shot at us with an arrow. The arrow struck our young friend and sister, and slowly singing her last song, she fell, a dying swan, into the forest lake. On the shores of the lake, under a big birch, we laid her in the cold earth. We had our revenge. We saw the nest of a swallow, who lived on the roof of the hunter. We put a wisp of straw into the nest and set fire to it. The house of the hunter took fire too, and it burned to ashes. The fire was seen over the sea as far as the birch, under which we laid her. She will never return to the land of Egypt."And then they both cried. And the stork-father, who heard the story, snapped with his beak so loudly that it could be heard a long way off."All lies!" he cried. "I want to pinch them with my beak.""And perhaps break it off," said the stork-mother, "then what a sight you would be. Think first of yourself, and then of your family. All others are nothing to us.""Yes, I know," said the stork-father; "but tomorrow I can easily sit on the edge of the open cupola, when the learned and wise men get together to discuss the state of the sick man. Perhaps they may come a little nearer to the truth."And the learned and wise men got together, and talked a great deal on every point. But the stork could not understand anything they said. There were no good results from their consultations, either for the sick man, or for his daughter in the marshy land. When we listen to what people say in this world, we hear a lot, but it is an advantage to know what has been said and done before, when we listen to a conversation. The stork did, and we know at least as much as he, the stork."Love is a life-giver. The highest love produces the highest life. Only through love can the sick man be cured." This had been said by many, and even the learned men agreed that those were wise words."What a beautiful thought!" exclaimed the stork-father immediately."I don't quite understand it," said the stork-mother, when her husband repeated it; "however, it is not my fault, but the fault of the thought. Whatever it may be, I have something else to think of."The learned men had spoken also of love between this one and that one; of the difference of the love which we have for our friends, to the love that exists between parents and children; of the love of the plant for the light. All these things were so learnedly explained, that it was impossible for the stork-father to follow it, much less to talk about it. He stood the whole of the following day on one leg, with half-closed eyes, thinking deeply about the subject. So much learning was quite a heavy weight for him to carry. One thing, however, the stork-father could understand. Every one, high and low, had from their hearts expressed their opinion that the king's illness was a serious problem for so many thousands of people - the whole country indeed - to have this man so sick, with no hope of his recovery. If only he could be cured! But where could be found the cure that could bring him good health? They had tried to find it everywhere: in learned writings, in the shining stars, in the weather and wind, until at last the wise and learned men said, as we already know, that "love, the life-giver, could alone give new life to a father." And in saying this, they said more than they understood themselves. They repeated it, and wrote it down as a recipe, "Love is a life-giver." But how could such a recipe be prepared - that was a problem they could not solve. At last it was decided that help could only come from the princess herself, who loved her father so much, especially as she thought of a plan to get the cure.More than a year had passed since the princess had left the house late at night. She had gone to the marble sphinx in the desert, shaking the sand from her sandals. Then she passed through the long passage, which leads to the centre of one of the great pyramids, where the powerful ancient kings, surrounded with golden treasure, lie in the form of mummies. The learned and wise men asked her to lay her head on one of them, and then she would know where to find the cure for her father. She had done all this, and in a dream had learnt that she should bring home to her father the lotus flower, which grows in the deep sea, near the moors in the Danish land. The very place had been pointed to her. She was told that the flower would bring her father health and strength. And she had left the land of Egypt, flying over to the open marsh and the Wild Moor in the plumage of a swan. The father and mother storks knew all this, and we also know it now. We know, too, that the Marsh King has drawn her down to himself, and that to the loved ones at home she is forever dead. One of the wisest of them said, as the stork-mother also said, "In some way she will, after all, manage to succeed". At last they comforted themselves with this hope, and decided to wait patiently. In fact, they could do nothing better."I should like to get away the swan's feathers from those two deceitful princesses," said the stork-father. "Then, at least, they would not be able to fly over again to the Wild Moor and do more wrong. I can hide the two suits of feathers over there, till we find some use for them.""But where will you put them?" asked the stork-mother."In our nest on the moors. I and the young ones will carry them by turns during our flight. And as we return, if they are too heavy for us, we shall be sure to find plenty of places on the way, where we can hide them till our next journey. Certainly one suit of swan's feathers would be enough for the princess, but two are always better. In those northern countries no one can have too many travelling clothes.""No one will thank you for it," said the stork-mother; "but you are master. And, except the time I sit on the eggs, I have nothing to say." CHAPTER FOURIn the Viking's castle on the moorland, to which the storks directed their flight in the following spring, the little girl still remained. They had named her Helga, which was a soft name for a child with a temper like hers, although her form was still beautiful. In the course of years, while the storks still made the same journeys in autumn to Egypt, and in spring to the moors, the child grew to be almost a woman. Before any one seemed to realize that, she was a wonderfully beautiful girl of sixteen. Helga was strong and brave, but she was cruel. She was cruel even for those hard times.The Viking was, like everyone else, charmed with her beauty, and knew nothing of the change in the form and temper of Helga at night. Without a saddle, she sat on a horse as if she were a part of it, while it ran at full speed. She never got off from its back, even when it quarrelled with other horses and bit them. She jumped from the high shore into the sea with all her clothes on, and swam to meet the Viking, when his boat was coming home towards the shore. Helga was fond of hunting and spent much time in the woods. She once cut off a long lock of her beautiful hair, and turned it into a string for her bow. "If a thing must be done well," said she, "I must do it myself."The Viking's wife was, for the time in which she lived, a woman of strong character and will. But, compared to her daughter, she was a gentle woman, and she knew that a wicked sorcerer had the poor child in his power. It was sometimes as if Helga wanted to be cruel. When her mother stood at the door, or stepped into the yard, Helga often sat on the edge of the well. First she waved her arms and legs in the air, and suddenly fell right into the well. Here she was able, from her frog nature, to dive in the water of the deep well many times. At last she climbed out of it like a cat, and came back into the hall so wet, so that the green leaves on the floor were carried away by the river of water that flowed from her.But there was one time of the day which placed a check upon Helga: it was evening. When this hour arrived she became quiet and thoughtful, and a secret feeling seemed to bring her close to her mother. And as usual, when the sun set, the transformation took place, both in body and mind. She remained quiet and sad, and her form was changed into the shape of a frog. Her body was much larger than those animals ever are, and because of this it was much more horrible in appearance. She looked like an ugly dwarf, with a frog's head and webbed fingers. Her eyes had a very sad expression. She made only weak croaking sounds, like the sobs of a dreaming child.Then the Viking's wife took her on her lap. She forgot the ugly form, as she looked into the sad eyes, and often said, "If only you could always remain my frog child! You are too cruel when you have the form of a beauty," And the woman wrote Runic characters against sorcery and spells of sickness, and threw them over the child. But they did no good."One cannot really believe that she was ever small enough to lie in the cup of the water-lily," said the stork-father; "Now she is grown up, and the image of her Egyptian mother, especially about the eyes. Ah, we shall never see her again. Perhaps she has not discovered how to help herself, as you and the wise men said she would. Year after year I have flown across and across the moor, but there was no sign of her being still alive. Yes, and I may as well tell you that each year, when I arrived a few days before you to repair the nest, and put everything in its place, I have spent a whole night flying here and there over the marshy lake, but all to no purpose. The two suits of swan's plumage, which I and the young ones dragged over here from the land of the Nile, are of no use. Trouble enough it was to us to bring them here in three journeys, and now they are lying at the bottom of the nest. And if a fire breaks out, the wooden house will be burnt down, and they will be destroyed.""And our good nest will be destroyed, too," said the stork-mother; "but you think less of that than of your plumage and your moor-princess. Go and stay with her in the marsh if you like. You are a bad father to your own children, as I have told you already, when I hatched my first eggs. I only hope neither we nor our children may have an arrow sent through our wings by that bad girl. Helga has no idea what she is going to do next. We have lived in this house longer than she has, she must think of that, and we have never forgotten our duty. We have paid every year our toll of a feather, an egg, and a young one, as it is only right we should do it. You don't suppose I can fly about the courtyard, or go everywhere as I used to do in old times. I can do it in Egypt, where I can be a companion of the people, without forgetting myself. But here I cannot go and look into the pots and kettles as I do there. No, I can only sit up here and feel angry with that wild little girl. And I am angry with you, too for taking her from that water-lily.""You are far better than your conversation," said the stork-father; "I know you better than you know yourself."And with that he gave a hop, and flapped his wings twice, proudly. Then he stretched his neck and flew without moving his outspread wings. He went on for some distance, and then he flapped his wings again and flew fast away, his head and neck bending proudly before him. And the sun's rays fell on his shining plumage."He is the handsomest of them all," said the stork-mother, as she watched him; "but I won't tell him so."Early in the autumn, the Viking again returned home with a lot of treasure, and bringing prisoners with him. Among them was the youngest son of King Arthur of Britain.In the deep stone cellars of the castle the young prince was kept, and his hands and feet were tied together with pieces of rope. The Viking's wife thought that he was as beautiful as Baldur, and his suffering made her feel sympathy for him."I would let the dogs run after him over the moors," said Helga. "Hurrah! That would be a great sight, and better still to follow him myself."The Viking's wife looked at the cruel, violent girl with great sadness. When night ñàme, and her daughter's beautiful form and temper were changed, she spoke in many words to Helga of the deep sorrow that was in her heart. The ugly frog, in its horrible shape, stood before her, and raised its brown sad eyes to her face, listening to her words. She seemed to understand them with the intelligence of a human being."Never once I told my husband what I suffer through you. My heart is full of pain about you," said the Viking's wife. "The love of a mother is greater and more powerful than I ever imagined. But love never entered your heart; it is cold like the plants on the moor."Then the ugly frog trembled. It was as if these words had touched an invisible bond between body and soul. Great tears stood in the eyes."A hard time will come to you at last," continued the Viking's wife; "and it will be awful for me too."And the eyes of the Viking's wife filled with tears, and she went away in anger and pain, passing under the curtain of furs, which hung from the ceiling and divided the hall. CHAPTER FIVE The young prince was alone in his dark cellar, finally asleep. He was having a strange dream. It seemed to him that he was at home, in Britain. He was standing at the window of his father's castle together with Merlin - one of the great and powerful magicians. Merlin and King Arthur were old friends. The magician knew well and loved the king's son."I know you're a prisoner now," said Merlin to the prince, "but there's somebody, who needs your help. Be prepared for surprises but have no fear. You will have to find the spring with magic water. Don't be frightened, but do as I tell you. I shall guide you." And he disappeared.The frog still sat in the corner alone. In the silence of the night, at intervals, deep sighs were heard from its soul. It was the soul of Helga. It seemed in pain, as if there was something new in her heart. She took a step forward and listened. Then she stepped forward again, and seized with her clumsy hands the heavy bar which was laid across the door. Gently, and with much trouble, she pushed back the bar, silently opened the door, and then took up the lamp which stood in the hall. It seemed as if a stronger will than her own gave her strength. She removed the iron bolt from the closed cellar-door, and slipped in to the sleeping prisoner. She touched him with her cold, moist hand. The man awoke and saw the ugly form, and started to tremble as if there was a wicked ghost in front of him. She cut the ropes on his hands and feet with her sharp knife, and beckoned to him to follow her."Who are you?" he asked. Why do you help me?"The frog-figure beckoned to him to follow her, and led him through a long gallery hidden by the curtains to the stable, and then pointed to a horse. It was a quick white horse. He got on it, and she jumped also before him. The prisoner understood her, and they rode fast, by a roundabout road which was not known to him, across the open moors.The prince thought of the wonderful miracle that had happened to him. He remembered the dream and Merlin's words about somebody whom he should help. Was she the one who needed his help? How could he help this huge frog?Helga raised herself up, and wanted to stop the horse and get off it, but the young prisoner held her back with all his strength. Besides, he could not let her go before he thanked her.The horse galloped on more wildly than before. The sky painted itself red, the first rays of the sun got through the clouds, and in the clear sunlight the frog became changed. It was Helga again, young and beautiful, but with a wicked temper. The young man was holding now a beautiful young woman in his arms. It was a real shock for him. The prisoner stopped the horse, and sprang from its back. He finally realized that some powerful sorcery was at work.Helga also got off the horse and stood on the ground. The girl's short dress reached only to her knee. Suddenly she snatched the sharp knife and rushed like lightning at the amazed prince."Let me get at you!" she cried; "let me get at you. You are pale as death, you beardless slave. Are you afraid of a girl?"The prince already knew that the poor girl was under the influence of a magician. He spoke to her, in gentle words, of what a wonderful thing she had done for him during the night, when she had come to him in the form of an ugly frog. She had led him out of the dark cellar to life and light.Suddenly it was as if an invisible power had been given to the prince. It was Merlin who was helping him. The young man took the knife from Helga and held her in her hands. She stopped struggling, looked at him surprised. She was very pale at that moment. His action seemed to overpower her. He seemed to her a magician skilled in secret arts.And then the prince told her about his family and the great Merlin, who wanted to help her. He explained that she was in the power of a wicked sorcerer, and they would have to find the magic spring so that the wicked spell of the sorcerer could be broken."Your magic beauty has a very strong power which comes from a wicked sorcerer," said the prince. "But I am still sure that we can overcome it."Meanwhile, the horse, that had carried them, stood quietly by, eating the leaves of the tall bramble, till the young berries fell down upon Helga's hands, as if inviting her to eat. Patiently she allowed herself to be lifted on the horse, and sat there like a somnambulist - as one who walked in his sleep. They rode through the forest. The forest grew thicker and thicker. Bushes here and there blocked up the way, so that they had to ride over them. They also had to guide the horses round a marsh formed by the river. How far would they need to go? Where could they find the magic spring?It is said that rain-drops can make a hole in the hardest stone, and the waves of the sea can smooth and round the rough edges of the rocks. And in this way the magic of Merlin and sympathy of the prince started to change Helga, making soft what was hard, and smoothing what was rough in her character. These changes did not yet appear. She did not herself feel them, as the plant does not know, when the rain and the warm sunlight fall upon it, that it has inside the powers which will make it grow.It was late in the evening when Helga and the young prince left the thick forest, crossed the moor, and again entered the wood. Suddenly the horse stamped on the ground; the ground burst open at once, and drops of cold water flew into the air in all directions. As they touched the ground, the plants burst into blossom. It was finally the magic spring they needed. It was so powerful, that new stalks started to come from the deep ground: all life raised itself.At that moment the sun went down, and as its last ray disappeared, Helga was changed into the form of a frog. A pale green mouth spread half over her face. Her arms became thin and slimy. Her broad hands, with webbed fingers, spread themselves out like fans. She looked at the prisoner with eyes that seemed to cry, and from the frog's head came a croaking sound, as when a child bursts into tears. The young man brought some water from the magic spring, and sprinkled Helga's head and arms with the water.The transformation began. The wicked spell was very powerful and could not be removed at once. Helga stood in the form of an ugly frog, with the webbed skin on her hands, but her eyes were already different. They were more beautiful than they had ever been in her most beautiful form of a girl. They were now pure, gentle eyes in the face of a frog. They showed the deep feeling and a human heart.The full moon had already risen, and was shining over the earth, when Helga came up to the magic spring and washed her hands in the water. The web skin fell from them like a torn glove, and her hands became white. Helga sprinkled the magic water all over herself, and the frog skin fell from her whole body. She was once more a beautiful girl. Her body needed rest, and then she slept. CHAPTER SIX As the sun rose, Helga opened her eyes. She looked around her as if she had just awoke from a painful dream. Butterflies flew around her, and close by were several anthills, each with its hundreds of busy little creatures moving quickly in all directions. In the air there were troops of flies, ladybirds and dragon-flies with golden wings, and other little winged creatures. None noticed Helga but the magpies, which flew around the girl surprised. These birds hopped close to her with curiosity. Suddenly she heard the noise, and saw the prince. He was back from a walk in the woods. Helga could see now that he was beautiful. He was even more beautiful than Baldur, as the Viking's wife had said. His large, gentle eyes seemed to reach every corner of her heart. Helga remembered what he had done for her. She remembered every kind word that she had heard from him.The prince came up to Helga. "I saw Merlin in my dream again," he said. "The great magician told me everything about you. You are the daughter of the moorland. You have been enchanted by your own father, the Marsh King, because he did not want you to leave the marsh. The spell is finally removed. But now we must go to the Wild Moor and save from the marsh the one who gave you life, your mother."Then the prince helped her to get on the horse and gave her a bottle of water from the magic spring. And they rode through the trees to the Wild Moor. The power of magic, which had transformed Helga was so strong, that they could see magic creatures as they rode. They passed the hills where dead soldiers lay buried in their graves each with his dead war-horse. And the ghosts rose up and galloped, and stopped on the top of the hills. The dragon, that guarded buried treasure, lifted his head and looked after them. The dwarves came out from the hills to the fields, waving blue, red, and green torches. They passed the woods and moor, rivers and marshes, till they reached the Wild moor. The prince sprinkled magic water over the marsh, and minutes later wonderful water-lilies covered the swamp like a carpet of flowers, and upon them lay a sleeping woman, young and beautiful. Helga thought that it was her own image she saw in the water. But it was her mother she saw, the wife of the Marsh King, the princess from the land of the Nile.The prince put the sleeping woman on the horse, and then the three rode away from the marsh to firm ground.The cock sang in the Viking's castle. The princess awoke and looked at her daughter."Am I looking at my own image?" said the mother."Is it myself that I see?" cried the daughter.Then they came nearer to each other. The mother's heart beat quickly, and she understood why she was so excited. "My child!" she exclaimed, "the flower of my heart - my lotus-flower of the deep water!" and she kissed her child again and cried, and the tears came as a beginning of new life and love for Helga.The prince came up to Helga when her mother stopped crying."Now we must part. I leave you with your mother. She'll tell what you should do. I must go to Britain. I need to tell my parents that I am alive, but be sure that my heart belongs to you," said the young man."I can never thank you enough for helping me. Please find me. I will wait for you even it takes forever," said Helga, looking into his eyes with love.The prince sprang on the horse and hastened away. The mother and daughter flew into each other's arms again."I came here in swan's plumage," said the mother, "and here I threw off my feather dress. Then I sank down through the soft ground, deep into the marsh, which closed like a wall around me. A few minutes later I found myself in fresher water. Still a power drew me down deeper and deeper. I felt the weight of sleep upon my eyelids. Then I slept, and had very strange dreams. It seemed to me that I was again in the pyramids of Egypt, and yet the stump of the tree, which had frightened me on the moor stood before me. I could see the cracks and wrinkles in the tree. They shone in strange colours, and took the form of hieroglyphics. It was the mummy case that I saw. At last it burst, and out of it came a king. He was thousand years old. He looked very much like a mummy form, black as ink and shining as a snail, or the slimy mud of the swamp. I did not know if it was really the mummy or the Marsh King himself. He seized me in his arms, and I felt I could die. When I came to, I found a little bird in my lap. It was flapping its wings and singing. The bird flew away from my lap, moving to the dark ceiling, but a long, green band kept it tied to me. I heard and understood her wish. Freedom! Sunlight! To my father! Then I thought of my father, and the sunny land of my birth, my life, and my love. Then I untied the band, and let the bird fly away to its home - to a father. Since that hour I had no more dreams. My sleep was long and heavy, till in this very hour, you saved me and set me free."Where was the green band which kept the wings of the bird tied to the mother's heart? The stork only had seen it. The band was the green stalk, and the cup of the flower was the bed for the child who was a beautiful girl now.When Helga and her mother stayed in each other's arms, the old stork flew round and round them in circles. Then he flew away to his nest, and found the two suits of swan's feathers, which he had preserved there for many years. Then he returned to the mother and daughter, and threw the swan's plumage to them. The feathers immediately closed around them, and they rose up from the earth in the form of two white swans."And now we can talk with pleasure," said the stork-father. "We can understand one another, although the beaks of birds are so different in shape. It is very good that you came tonight. Tomorrow we shall be gone. My wife, myself and the little ones, we will fly to the south. Look at me now. I am an old friend from the Nile, and my wife is kinder than she seems. She always said that the princess would know how to help herself. I and the young ones carried the swan's feathers over here, and I am glad of it now, and how lucky it is that I am here still. When the sun rises we shall start with a great company of other storks. We'll fly first, and you can follow us. You do not miss your way then. I and the young ones will have an eye upon you.""And I will take with me the lotus-flower which I needed," said the Egyptian princess. "It is flying here by my side, in swan's feathers. The flower of my heart will travel with me. And so the riddle is solved. Now for home! Now for home!"But Helga said she could not leave the Danish land without seeing her foster-mother once more, the loving wife of the Viking. She remembered each good moment, each kind word, every tear from the heart of her foster-mother. She felt that she loved that mother."Yes, we must go to the Viking's castle," said the stork; "my wife and the young ones are waiting for me there. How they will open their eyes and flap their wings! My wife, you see, does not say much. She is short and abrupt in her manner, but she means well, for all that. I will flap my wings at once. They will hear us coming."Then the stork-father flapped his wings as hard as he could, and he and the swans flew away to the Viking's castle. CHAPTER SEVEN In the castle everyone was in a deep sleep. The Viking's wife had gone to sleep late in the evening. She worried about Helga, who, three days before, had disappeared with the prisoner. She thought that it was Helga who had helped him to get out of the cellar and leave the castle. Her horse was not in the stable too. But how could she do it?The Viking's wife thoughts formed themselves into a dream. It seemed to her that she was still lying awake on her bed. And, close to the frightened woman, Helga seemed to be seated on the floor, in the form of an ugly frog, trembling. Her foster-mother took her on her lap. Suddenly she saw a beautiful young man. The Viking's wife first thought that he was Baldur, but then she looked at him again and recognized his face. It was the prisoner who disappeared together with Helga. Then she kissed her ugly frog-child on the forehead. The frog-skin fell off, and Helga stood before her in all her beauty, more lovely and gentle-looking, and with eyes full of love. She kissed the hands of her foster-mother, thanked her for all her kindness and love she had seen during the days of her life in the castle. Then beautiful Helga flew up as a white swan and spread her wings in the air.The Viking's wife awoke. She heard the sounds of many wings outside. She knew it was the time for the storks to leave, and that it must be the flapping of their wings, which she heard. She felt she wanted to see them once more, and wish them a good journey. She got up from her bed, looked out of the window, and there, on the roof, she saw a great number of storks. Groups of the birds were flying in circles over the castle and the highest trees. But just before her, near the well, where Helga had so often sat and alarmed her with her wildness, now stood two swans, looking at her with intelligent eyes. At that moment she remembered her dream, which seemed real to her. She realized that it was Helga in the form of a swan, and she had come to say good-bye.The swans flapped their wings to say good-bye to her, and the Viking's wife smiled through her tears. Then all the storks flew up in the air, and started their journey to the south."We will not wait for the swans," said the stork-mother. "If they want to go with us, let them come now. We can't sit here till the swallows start. It is a fine thing after all to travel in families. We are not finches and the partridges. Their males and the females fly in separate groups, which, to tell the truth, I do not like at all. Why are those swans flapping their wings?""Well, everyone flies how he likes," said the stork-father. "The swans fly in a line. The cranes form a triangle. And the finches fly in a line like a snake.""Don't talk about snakes while we are flying up here," said the stork-mother. "The children can feel very hungry, and there is nothing to eat now.""Are those high mountains?" asked Helga, in the swan's plumage."They are storm-clouds," replied her mother,"What are those white clouds that are so high?" asked Helga again later."Those are mountains always covered with snow, that you see there," said her mother. And then they flew across the Alps towards the blue Mediterranean Sea."Africa! Egypt!" sang the daughter of the Nile, in her swan's plumage, as she saw her native land, the waters of the Nile. The other birds also saw Egypt and flew faster."I can smell the Nile mud and the wet frogs," told the stork-mother her children, "and I begin to feel quite hungry. Yes, now you will eat something nice, and you will see the ibis, and the crane. They all belong to our family, but they are not as handsome as we are. They give themselves great airs, especially the ibises. The Egyptians spoil the ibises too much. They make mummies of them, and stuff them with spices. I'd better be stuffed with live frogs. Better have something inside you while you are alive, than to be put at the museum after you are dead. That is my opinion, and I am always right.""The storks have come," everyone said in the palace on the banks of the Nile, where the king lay in the hall, covered with a leopard skin. He was very sick, but yet not dead. He was still waiting and hoping for the lotus-flower from the deep moorland in the far north. Relatives and servants were standing by his bed, when the two beautiful swans, who had come with the storks, flew into the hall. They threw off their soft white plumage, and two lovely women came up to the pale, sick old man. They threw back their long hair. When Helga bent over her grandfather, redness came back to his cheeks, his eyes became bright, and life returned to his weak body. The old man got up, healthy and full of energy. Daughter and granddaughter welcomed him happily.The happiness came to the palace, as well as to the stork's nest, though the main reason for the storks was really the good food, especially a large number of frogs.Then the learned and wise men went to put down the story of the two princesses, and spoke of the arrival of the health-giving flower as a miracle. The stork-father told the story to his family in his own way, but only after they had eaten their dinner and could listen to his stories."Well," said the stork-mother, when she had heard it, "you will receive a reward. I am sure they can do nothing less.""What reward?" said the stork-father, "what have I done? Nothing.""You have done more than the rest of them," she replied. "You helped the two princesses come to Egypt and cure the king. You will become something. They must certainly give you a doctor's degree, and our young ones will inherit it, and their children after them, and so on. You already look like an Egyptian doctor, at least in my eyes.""I cannot quite remember the words I heard when I listened to their discussions on the roof," said the stork-father, when he was telling the story to his family. "All I know is, that what the wise men said was so learned, they received not only degrees, but presents. Even the head cook in the palace received a reward, most likely for the soup.""And what did you receive?" said the stork-mother. "They cannot forget the most important person in the affair, as you really are. The learned men have done nothing at all but talk. Surely they will not overlook you."Late in the night, while the people in the palace were asleep, there was still one person who could not sleep. It was not the stork-father, who, though he stood on guard on one leg, slept soundly. Helga alone was awake. She came out on the balcony, looking at the bright stars. They shone clearer and brighter than they had done in the north, and yet they were the same stars. She remembered the Viking's wife in the wild moorland, her loving eyes and kind words. Her poor frog-child now lived in a beautiful palace by the waters of the Nile, where the air was sweet as spring. She thought of the love that her foster-mother had shown to her, wicked as a girl, and ugly when in the form of an animal.Early in the spring, when the storks were ready again to fly to the north, beautiful Helga took off her golden bracelet, scratched her name on it, and called the stork-father. He came to her, and she put the golden bracelet round his neck, and asked him to get it to the Viking's wife. Then she would know that her foster-daughter was still alive, and happy, and had not forgotten her."It is rather heavy to carry," thought the stork-father, when he had it on his neck; "but the gold and honour are very important things. The stork brings good fortune. People will always say that.""You lay gold, and I lay eggs," said the stork-mother; "with you it is only once, and I lay eggs every year. But no one thanks us for what we do. I think it is not fair.""But then we know about our importance ourselves, mother," answered the stork-father."What good will that do you?" said the stork-mother; "it will neither bring you a fair wind, nor a good meal." CHAPTER EIGTH In the autumn an eagle, standing on a pyramid, saw a long line of horses and carriages. The skins of the horses shone like the sun, and their thick manes came almost to their slender legs. King Arthur of Britain was on his way to the palace, on the roof of which the storks' empty nests might be seen. He had with him his youngest son. The prince was handsome as a prince should be. The storks were away now in the far north, but they were expected to return very soon. And, indeed, they returned on a day that was very happy for everyone.On that day Helga, wearing a beautiful silk dress and jewels, married the young British prince. The happy bride and bridegroom sat at the upper end of the table, between the bride's mother and grandfather. Helga and the prince were very glad that they could be together now. King Arthur and Merlin, his old friend and powerful magician, sat at the other end of the table. The magician was the guest of honour at the wedding.The music started to play, and the guests began dancing. At that moment everybody heard the sound of wings. The storks were coming home. The old stork pair were tired with the journey and needed rest. But they flew down to the verandah at once, because they knew already about the wedding. They had heard of it far away, in the north. They also knew that Helga had ordered to paint their figures on the walls, because they belonged to her history."I think it is very wise and pretty," said the stork-father."Yes, but it is very little," said the stork-mother; "they should do more for you."But, when Helga saw them, she got up and went out into the verandah to stroke the backs of the storks. The old stork pair bowed their heads in return, and even the youngest among the young ones felt happy to see this."That is a nice end of the story," said the stork-father; "I really never expected it would end in this way, but it seems a very good end.""And what will the young ones say to it, I wonder?" said the stork-mother. "Ah, that is a very important question," answered the stork.

 




Date: 2015-12-18; view: 1211


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