THE THREE PEASANT MAIDENS
HOW QUEEN HERTHA FELL FROM HER HIGH ESTATE.
In a distant island, long, long ago, there lived a wealthy peasant, who had three daughters called Alitea, Truda, and Hertha. Alitea and Truda were both fine handsome girls, but Hertha, the youngest, was by far the loveliest of the three.
Their house was not far from the king’s palace, and one day, when the three sisters were out walking, they met the king, attended by his secretary and his valet.
“Ah,” sighed Alitea, the eldest sister, “how happy I should be if I could only marry the king’s valet! I should then be able to see all the grand feasts that are held at the palace!”
“And I should like to marry his secretary,” murmured Truda, the second sister, “for then I should both hear and see all that was going on.”
“Oh, if I had to marry any one,” cried Hertha, the youngest sister, “I should like to marry King Leofric himself! See how young and handsome he is!”
The king, who had noticed the whispers and eager glances of the girls, said to his attendants—
“I wonder what those pretty maidens want? Let us go to them and find out what they are talking about; I thought I heard them mention my name.”
The secretary tried to dissuade the young king from speaking to the girls, saying he was sure their chatter was not worth listening to, and that his Majesty had better not attend to them. But King Leofric would not be put off, and it ended in their all three going up to the young maidens. Then the king asked them what they had been talking about when he and his attendants came in sight.
Now when the girls saw the king come up to them, they were rather frightened, but he spoke so kindly and pleasantly that their fears soon vanished, and when he insisted on hearing what they had said, they at last confessed the truth.
King Leofric was mightily amused when he heard their tale. He thought the girls very handsome, especially the youngest one, and after chatting with them for some little time, he found them so bright and clever, that he told them their wishes should be fulfilled.
The sisters were so surprised to think their idle words should speedily become real facts, that they were speechless with wonder and delight.
So the king and his two attendants escorted the girls back to their home, where the father’s pride may be imagined when he heard who the suitors were. Of course he threw no difficulties in the way, and as the king’s wishes were law, all three maidens were shortly married each to the man of her choice.
Now, although Alitea and Truda would have been quite satisfied with their choice had Hertha not become queen, no sooner did they realize how much grander was her lot than theirs, than they became very jealous of her, and though she did her best to be friends with them, giving them handsome presents, and taking them everywhere with her, their envy only grew stronger, till at last they determined that, no matter at what cost, she must be brought down from her high estate. So they plotted and planned for many a long hour, how they could best get her out of the way.
At the end of a year the queen had a little son. Then her sisters took away the baby in the night, and arranged that it should be cast into the deep ditch outside the city walls, where all the rubbish was thrown. But the old woman who had undertaken to do this, thought she would give the poor babe a chance for its life; so, instead of throwing it in the ditch, she placed it on the bank, hoping that some kind person passing might see it and take it away.
And this actually did happen, for Osric, a poor old woodcutter, on his way home, seeing the pretty babe lying there crying helplessly, took it up in his arms.
“This is a strange thing,” he said. “Some one surely must have put it here purposely. But I cannot leave the poor bairn crying here.”
So saying, he carefully wrapped it in his old coat and took it home, where he fed it as best he could.
When next morning it was found that the baby had disappeared, the sisters told the king they were sure that the queen must have put away or killed the child; but, though King Leofric was greatly grieved at the loss of his little son, he loved his wife too dearly to blame her for the child’s disappearance.
The next year the queen again had a baby boy, and the news caused great rejoicings all through the kingdom. But that same night this child also disappeared, and the two sisters again told the king that they were sure the queen had caused it to be killed.
But King Leofric, though startled and grieved at these strange disappearances of his children, still trusted his wife and would not hear a word against her.
The following year, greatly to the king’s delight, the queen had a baby girl.
“Surely,” she thought, “this time nothing shall come between me and my baby.” So she would not let the little creature out of her arms day or night.
But she was weak and ill, and the second night, seeing she would not lay down the child, the wicked sisters gave her a sleeping-draught, and as soon as her eyelids closed, they again took away the babe and gave it to the old woman to throw into the ditch.
When next morning the king heard that his little daughter, at whose birth he had so rejoiced, had also disappeared, his grief and anger knew no bounds. They quite overcame his former love for his wife. He would listen to no excuses, and ordered her to be thrown into the den of the big lion.
When the wicked sisters heard this, they thought they had now got rid of Queen Hertha. They were quite pleased to think they had at last succeeded in the wicked plot they had planned, without the king or any one else ever suspecting the part they had taken in it.
WHAT HAD BEFALLEN THE TWO LITTLE PRINCES AND THEIR SISTER.
But Queen Hertha was not dead; for the lion, so far from hurting her, laid himself quietly down at her feet, and when his food was brought to him, he would never touch it till the queen had taken her share.
So, while every one thought she was dead, Queen Hertha lived beside her powerful friend. At first she had been terribly frightened, but she speedily grew almost to love the huge beast, who, when the king and her sisters had been so cruel, had befriended her in her hour of need. Still it was at best but a dreary existence, and many times and often she wished she could but know what was happening outside the lion’s den.
As for the children, the same old man, Osric, who had picked up the first baby, had fortunately also found the other boy and the baby girl, and had taken them home to his own little cot, near the woods, where he brought them up as well as he could. He called the elder boy Wilhelm, the second one Sigurd, and the little baby girl Olga.
He had tried at first to find out whose children they could possibly be, but one night he dreamed that a beautiful fairy came to his bedside, and said—
“Osric, if you love the children, don’t ask any questions about them, but bring them up as your own—their enemies will else destroy them. Let them wait till they are grown up.”
So he had kept his own counsel, and did the best he could for them. Strangely enough, too, he found that his barrel of meal never ran short, and with his cow and his little patch of garden ground they always had a sufficiency of food.
So the children grew up strong and healthy, the boys helping the old man in his forest work, and fetching the wood and water that was wanted; and as for Olga, she soon became quite an expert little housekeeper. But, though they wore rough, home-spun garments, they were good to look at, for they all three inherited the marvellous beauty of their father and mother.
At last, when the young people were grown up, the old man, feeling his end draw near, called Olga and her brothers to his bedside. He then told them how and where he had found them, and also mentioned the strange vision he had had.
“But now that you are grown up,” he added, “I should advise you to make all inquiries, and not to rest till you have found out who and what you are, for I feel sure you are no ordinary children.” Thereupon he gave them his blessing and died.
Wilhelm, Sigurd, and Olga sorrowed deeply over the death of their kind foster-father, for they had loved him dearly. When they had buried him in the forest, they returned sadly to the empty hut and consulted together as to what they had best do in order to carry out his instructions.
While they were thus sitting and talking, the door of the hut opened, and an old man entered. He was dressed entirely in green; his hair was long and white, so also was his beard, and in his hand he carried a thick oaken staff.
“Good morrow, father,” said Wilhelm; “you are welcome, though we have not much to offer you. Pray take a seat and rest, for you look weary.”
“I have come a long way, my son,” answered the old man; “but though I am still hale and hearty, I shall not be sorry for a short rest. But you seem in sorrow or trouble,” he added, looking from one to the other. “Perhaps I might be able to help you, for I have travelled far, and seen many strange and wonderful things.”
“We shall indeed be glad of some advice,” said Sigurd, while Olga hastened to place a bowl of new milk and some oatcakes before the traveller. “Sir, we are sadly perplexed as to what we ought to do.” And the brothers then proceeded to tell the stranger their story, and the advice their foster-father had given them.
When he had heard their strange tale, the old man said—
“I fear I cannot help you myself, but I think I know some one who may be able to advise you. You must know that about three days’ journey from here, there lies a valley full of strangely shaped stones. In the middle of this valley there is a rock, on which a large bird sits, who is very wise, and understands and speaks the human language. Now, I think you should go and see this bird, though I will not conceal from you that there is very great danger attending such a visit. Many people have gone to consult him, but so far no one has ever returned. He is, however, so wise that he can both foretell the future, and also reveal the past. Many princes and others have gone for advice to this wonderful bird, but one and all have failed in carrying out the conditions, which can alone insure success. You must know that whoever mounts the rock on which the bird sits, must be so brave, and have such strength of will, that, no matter what he may see or hear, he must not turn round or look back; for if he does, even for only a second, he will at once be turned into stone. So far, no one yet has possessed the required purpose and unswerving staunchness,” continued the old man; “but it is not difficult to mount the rock, provided you have the necessary determination. Then, when you have mounted, you will have the power to restore to life all those who, through lack of will and strength of purpose, were turned into stone, for on the summit of the rock there is a huge jar filled with magic water, and he who safely reaches the summit may take some of this water, and sprinkle it over those who have been turned to stone; they will then awake to life, and regain their form and figure.”
Both brothers thought the task by no means a difficult one, and declared themselves quite ready and willing to undertake the journey. They thanked the old man heartily for all his information and advice, and then sped him on his journey.
Next morning Wilhelm said to Sigurd that he would start forth in search of the rock. But before he left, he said to his brother—
“If at any time you see three drops of blood on your knife when you are at dinner, you must get up and follow me, for you will then know that I have failed, and have been turned to stone, and that you must then try your best.”
So Wilhelm went forth, followed by the good wishes of Sigurd and Olga. But after three days, when the brother and sister sat down to dinner, behold three drops of blood were on the blade of Sigurd’s knife!
Hastily starting up, he told Olga he must be off at once in search of their brother.
“And remember, Olga, though I hope I may be successful, if at the end of three days you see three drops of blood, on your knife, you will know that I too have failed.”
He then bade her a loving farewell; and Olga saw him start on his way, with many fears and prayers in her heart for his safety.
OLGA’S COURAGE RESCUES HER BROTHERS, QUEEN HERTHA IS RESTORED TO HER HUSBAND, AND THE PARENTS RECOVER THEIR CHILDREN.
It seemed to Olga as if the time would never pass. Each day seemed longer than the last, and when the morning of the third day arrived, she had scarcely courage to look at her knife as she sat down to her breakfast.
But, oh joy! the blade was bright and clear, and with a light and happy heart, she went about her daily tasks.
When midday approached, she again glanced anxiously at the table, but, to her intense relief, the knife beside her plate was undimmed by either spot or stain, and feeling as if a great weight had been lifted off her, she sat down to her spinning-wheel, which she had not had the heart to do before, and hummed one of her favourite ballads, to drive away the feeling of loneliness that crept over her. And thus the hours passed; then, as the long, slanting rays of the sun warned her that the day was nearly over, Olga put away her spinning-wheel, and got ready her supper. She had placed her plate of porridge on the table, and, bringing a bowl of milk from the cupboard, had just seated herself, when, glancing down, she saw three bright crimson drops on the knife beside her plate!
With a cry of grief and horror, Olga sprang up. There was now no thought of food or rest. Not a second must be lost if she hoped to save her brothers!
Hastily putting on her cloak and hood, she hurried out into the forest, following the path she had seen her brothers take.
Evening was closing in, and the tall trees cast dark and weird shadows around her. But never for a moment did Olga hesitate or rest. Strange, uncouth sounds seemed to fill the air, and she could almost fancy that the clinging brushwood which often crossed her path, seemed like long arms trying to hold her back. But she had only one thought, one resolve—the rescue of her brothers; so she kept bravely on, putting aside every obstacle that obstructed her way.
At length, after a long and weary journey, Olga arrived at the valley in which stood the great rock. As she came near, she saw that the whole ground was covered with innumerable stones of quaint and varied forms. Some looked like people, some like animals, and one tall figure had several square stones at his feet, like chests or boxes.
“OLGA WENT BRAVELY UP THE ROCK.”
But Olga, though her heart almost jumped into her mouth at the wild, weird scene, walked courageously forward, turning neither to the right nor left till she reached the rock on which sat the bird, his crest raised fiercely, while angry flashes of light from his eyes almost blinded her. No sooner, however, had her foot touched it, than a loud rumbling noise arose, wild cries and screams filled the air, thunder pealed, and flash after flash of lightning filled the valley with a lurid light, strong arms caught hold of her and tried to keep her back, while entreaties for help sounded on every side. Once, indeed, she distinctly heard her brothers’ voices, praying her to look round if she loved them. Steadfastly, however, with a prayer on her lips for strength and guidance, Olga went bravely up the rock.
No sooner had she reached the summit, than immediately the thunder and lightning ceased, the weird cries and screams were silent, and, as she approached the great bird, he lowered his angry crest, and in a soft voice, praised her for her courage and steadfastness.
“I can now tell you whatever you desire, and will gladly help you in any way you wish,” he added.
Then Olga asked that she might first of all be allowed to restore to life all those who had been turned to stone.
This the bird readily granted, and, filling the lid of the stone jar with some of the life-restoring water, Olga lost no time in sprinkling all the strangely shaped stones with the magic water.
They all immediately regained their natural forms; the still and silent valley soon re-echoed with the sound of voices, and as the girl stood there between her two rescued brothers, all the others came up to thank the fair and brave maiden whose courage and steadfastness had rescued them from their stony prison and restored them to life.
“And now,” said Olga, turning again to the wonderful bird, “can you tell us whose children we are?”
“You are the children of the king of this country,” he replied; and then proceeded to tell them how the two wicked aunts, through jealousy, had caused them to be carried away, and had then accused their mother of destroying them, for which supposed misdeed she had been thrown into the lion’s den.
“But,” he added, seeing the grief and horror of the young people, “the lion’s mouth was closed, so that, instead of killing her, he not only shares his food with her, but has so guarded the cage that no one dares enter; she is still alive, therefore, though almost at death’s door through grief and all the anxiety she has endured.”
Then one of the strange figures who had been restored to life, and whom Olga had especially noticed as being taller and fairer than most of the others, and also because he was surrounded with several quaintly shaped chests, now came forward. He was a handsome young fellow, and stated that he was called Odo, and was the son of a neighbouring king, and that, having gone forth in search of treasure and adventures, he had succeeded in amassing a large quantity of gold and precious stones, and was on his way home, when he heard of the wonderful bird, who could foretell the future. He had gained the valley and was almost close to the bird, when he incautiously looked back, hearing wild cries for help, and in that moment he had been turned to stone, and his were the quaintly shaped chests Olga had noticed.
The bird, being in a gracious mood, allowed the prince to carry away his treasure; so, followed by his servants, he accompanied Olga and her brothers to their home.
As soon as they arrived, they at once went to the lion’s den and liberated the poor queen—the lion offering no resistance—and took her back to their hut. Poor Hertha was almost dead with grief and anxiety; but loving care quickly restored her to health, and the delight of seeing her dear children, whom she had thought dead, alive and well before her, did more than anything to restore her and make her strong and well.
They then procured her some rich and fitting garments, and leaving her in the hut, they repaired to the king’s court and demanded an audience.
After some little delay, this was granted, for after the loss of his wife and children the king had grown sad and listless, often blaming himself for condemning his queen so hurriedly; for, when he had time to think it all over, he could not, despite her sisters’ repeated representations, believe that the queen had really killed her children.
When the sister and brothers were ushered into the royal presence, the king was at once struck by their noble appearance, especially with Olga, whose likeness to her mother was marvellous.
They then told him who they were and how they had been saved, and also that they had just freed their mother, who was not dead, as he had been told.
King Leofric could scarcely believe he heard aright as they related their wonderful tale, the particulars of which they had received from the magic bird, and it is impossible to describe his delight and thankfulness to find that his wife, whom he had loved so dearly, was not only proved innocent, but was alive and well.
He immediately sent for her two wicked sisters, and when questioned as to what they had done, they began first to prevaricate, and then each accused the other of having done the wicked deed. But the truth was clearly proved against them, they were therefore both thrown into the lion’s den, where the poor queen had so long lingered; this time, however, the lion never hesitated, but eat them both up at once.
The king then eagerly went to fetch his queen, who returned to the palace with all due honours and splendour.
A great feast was immediately prepared to celebrate the happy restoration of the lost queen and her three children.
This feast lasted many days, for all who chose to come were welcome; indeed, it seemed as if the king could not do enough to show how thankful he was.
He remitted the sentences of many state prisoners, and all the poor in the kingdom received rich gifts.
When at length the feast came to an end, Prince Odo asked the king for the hand of his daughter, the fair princess Olga.
Thereupon a fresh feast was arranged to celebrate the marriage of the prince and princess, and this was carried out with still greater splendour, such as had never been seen before.
Not only was the big hall of the palace prepared for the invited guests, but endless tables were spread in the great courtyard for all the poor and homeless, to whom abundant good fare was generously dispensed, for, Princess Olga said, as they had been poor themselves they must never forget their less fortunate subjects.
Then, when it was over, Prince Odo returned to his own kingdom with his wife, where they reigned in peace and happiness for many years.
Wilhelm married a beautiful cousin, and succeeded to the throne at his father’s death, Sigurd also married a lovely princess in a neighbouring state, and came to the throne on the death of his father-in-law.
Thus Olga and her brothers, after all their trials, lived long and happily, their children and children’s children reigning after them for many generations.