🧚 Legends and Tales., part 5 · page 2

He had also learned the power of enchantment possessed by the dwellers of the caves in the Bodethal.48

A dwarf of one cave had often brought him a bundle of healing herbs for his sick mother, and he knew that he always laid healing plants ready for those who had entreated his help.49

But the angry cobold, who in the form of a green bottle-fly dwelt in another cave, had once nearly thrown him headlong from the rocks as he gathered plants, and he only saved himself by making the sign of the cross three times.50

He had also seen the blue flame in the garden of the Kloster estate in Thale, which marked the spot where treasures were hidden.51

While indulging in these reminiscences a low exclamation from his companion aroused him from his reverie.52

She grasped him by the arm, and pointed to the ruins.53 There, above the tower, rose amid the slender grass, in wonderful beauty, white as a lily and as graceful, the Flower of the Lauenburg, which had just been the subject of their conversation and their dreams.54

She seemed to bend her white corolla in greeting, and like a low melody to call down to them, "Pluck me! pluck me!"55

The lovers gazed a moment, surprised, at each other; and, as if the glance had filled him with enthusiasm, the youth then hastened forward, and raised his arm to gather the flower.56

At this moment the serpent head raised itself, terrible to behold; the scales of the coiled body seemed to bristle, and resembled a coat of mail; the vicious eyes burned in rage, and the sharp tongue pointed at them like a poisoned arrow.57

Terrified at the sight, he lost his courage, forgot to cross himself, and, seizing the hand of the maiden turned to flee.58

But she held him back; she stood lost in thought a moment; then pressing his hand warmly and glancing toward heaven, she approached fearlessly the tower, and stretched forth her hand firmly to pluck the flower.59

And see! the serpent, though hissing more furiously, drew slowly back its head, and as she plucked the flower fled, and at the same moment the whole scene changed.60

Where the flower grew, now stood, sweetly smiling, in swan-white garments, a graceful maiden, who looked kindly on the lovers, and, pointing to a vault at the base of the tower, in which glittered gold and silver vessels of all sorts, stooped and handed one piece after another to the astonished lovers, who took the costly gifts as in a dream.61

When they had all they could carry, she waved the hand in farewell, as bidding them to depart, and vanished.62

The White Stag.63

Long centuries ago a peculiar appearance attracted the attention of the inhabitants of Dorf Treseburg.64

Every morning stood, high on the summit of the Hagedornberg, which rises perpendicular to the banks of the Bode, a White Stag, and gazed fixedly below into the valley.65

He stood hours at a time, and had done so over a hundred years, without any variation or the faintest sign of age.66 Wonderful as this was, it was still more remarkable that no one had ever been able to come near him, although various sportsmen had attempted it, not even when they waited in the early morning on the spot where he was wont to appear.67

They waited in vain, and yet at the same time the villagers below had seen him as usual.68

So it had come that for a whole generation no one had sought to come near the White Stag.69 Hence every one shook the head doubtfully when one day an herb-gatherer of the village, named Weidemann, declared that he had not only been near the Stag, but that the animal had come close to him, leaned against him, eaten of the plants he carried, and finally had followed him part way down the declivity of the mountain.70

The herb-gatherer, however, was known to be a man of veracity, and they soon became convinced of the truth of his statement; for no sooner had he climbed the Hagedorn than the White Stag ran to him, and walked trustfully by his side, ate from his hand, and followed his steps.71

This excited all the more surprise inasmuch as the stag avoided everybody else.72 Weidemann was surprised himself at this confidence, which grew every day; and it seemed to him, when the stag gazed at him with its clear eyes so winningly, as if it would speak, and only language failed.73

At last, he said one day to his wife, "There is something the matter with the White Stag, and he longs to tell.74 If I only could know what it is!"75

"That is not so difficult," replied his wife. "76 Just ask old Fischersche, who will be able to tell thee."77

Fischersche was, according to some, a wise, good old woman, according to others a witch, who lived in a hut a little out of the village, never leaving it, alone and without friends, avoiding men and shunned by them in return--but only till they got into some trouble; when illness or some accident had befallen them, then they sought out old Fischersche, related their trouble, and found ever help and counsel, or herbs and healing draughts, before which every sickness fled.78

To her the herb-gatherer applied, told her what had happened, and begged for an explanation of the matter.79

Fischersche bent her ice-grey head and remained a while sunk in thought.80 At length she said: "It is a wonderful history of the White Stag; my aged grandmother told it me over a hundred years ago, but I cannot now remember it perfectly!81 I only know that it is an enchanted young noble, the son of an Earl, but how it all hangs together has escaped me.82 But we will soon learn.83 I will ask my ravens."84

So saying, she opened the windows of the hut, one towards the north, the other to the south, and murmured a few unintelligible words, and uttered one piercing whistle.85

Soon the beating of heavy wings was heard, and a hoarse croaking, and a pair of huge primeval ravens flew down, and sat, one on the north, one on the south window, and cried:86

"Kra!87 Kra!88 Kra--h!89 Wir sind da!"90

And Fishersche addressed them in a loud voice: "Ye good ravens, ye are as old as the Harz and the primeval forests, and ye know all things; hence ye shall tell me the history of the White Stag."91

Then one raven flapped his wings, nodded with his head, opened his bill and cried:92

"Kra! kra! kra--h!93 Ich weiss wie es geschah!"94

"The son of an Earl had fallen in love with the daughter of the Ritter who dwelt ages ago in Schloss Treseburg, and came every day and stood on the summit of the Hagedorn, and gazed across to the Treseburg, to see if he could catch a glimpse of the maiden, or a greeting from her.95

"It happened once that he met there a noble white stag, and being a passionate lover of the chase, he threw his spear, killing the animal on the spot.96

"Just as he was about to detach the splendid antlers, to hang up in his castle--for a pair of antlers was his coat of arms--the Waldfrau, the powerful queen of the forest and all game, suddenly broke forth from the underbrush with indignation and wrath, for the dead stag had been her favourite, and cursed the youth in words of fury:97