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"That is the thousand bears who are coming after us to eat us," answered the reindeer. "But don't be afraid; I am the mountain king's own magic reindeer, and no bear has ever gnawed my heels."
When they had ridden a while longer, Sampo asked: "What can that be that breathes and moans so strangely behind us?"
The reindeer answered: "That is the hundred thousand wolves who are coming after us at full gallop to tear you and me to pieces. But don't be afraid; no wolf has ever beaten me in a race here in the wilderness."
They rode on a while longer; then Sampo asked: "Is it thundering in the mountains there behind us?"
"No," said the reindeer, and began to shake in all his limbs. "That is Hiisi, the mountain king himself, who is coming with giant steps after us; and now it is all over with both of us, for him it is impossible to escape."
"Is there no help?" asked Sampo.
"No," said the reindeer, "there is nothing to do now but to try to get to the parsonage off there near Enare Lake. If we get there we are saved, for the mountain king has no power over Christians."
"Oh," said Sampo, "run now, my brave reindeer, over mountain and valley, and I will give you golden oats in a silver manger!"
The reindeer ran and ran; it was a life-and-death race! And they had but just reached the priest's house when the mountain king came up outside and knocked so hard on the door that every one thought the whole house would fall down. "Who is that?" asked the priest.
"It is I!" answered a voice of thunder outside.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ON THE BACK OF THE REINDEER WITH GOLDEN HORNS.--_Page 126_.]
"Open the door for Hiisi, the mountain king. There is an unchristened child within, and all heathen belong to me!"
"Wait a minute, until I put on my surplice and collar, so that I can receive so distinguished a guest with proper dignity," answered the priest.
"Hurry, then!" growled the mountain king; "hurry, or I will kick the walls down."
"Immediately, immediately, sir," answered the priest.
But at the same time he took a bowl of water and christened Sampo Lappelil with all proper ceremony.
"Well, are you not ready yet?" growled the mountain king, and he lifted his terrible foot to kick the house down.
But the priest opened the door and said: "Begone, you king of night and winter, for with this child you have nothing to do! The sun of G.o.d's grace s.h.i.+nes over Sampo Lappelil, and he belongs not to you but to G.o.d's kingdom!"
Then the mountain king grew so furious that he burst on the spot and turned into a terrible snow-cloud, and it snowed so hard that the snow reached up over the roof of the parsonage and they all expected to be buried alive. But when the morning came the sun shone on the snow, the snow melted away, and the parsonage and all in it were saved; and there was no sign of the mountain king. Every one thinks, however, that he still lives and reigns on Rastekais.
Sampo Lappelil thanked the priest and borrowed a pulk from him. Then he harnessed to it the reindeer with the golden horns and went home to his father in Aimio. There was great joy when Sampo Lappelil came back so unexpectedly. But how he became a great man and fed his reindeer with golden oats from a silver manger, that is another story, which it would take too long to tell now. It is said that since that time when Sampo had such a narrow escape, the Lapps have never, as before, put off from year to year having their little children christened--for who would like to see his child eaten up by the terrible mountain king? Sampo Lappelil knows what it means to run that risk! And having heard Hiisi's mighty footsteps, he knows, too, precisely what it is when thunder resounds in the mountains.
--_Z. Topelius_.
_Translated by Margaret Bocher_.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
A LEGEND OF MERCY
On one side of the lake there was a large town; on the opposite sh.o.r.e stood a little lone cottage. The snow whirled over the frozen lake in great clouds and the wind was very keen; for it was winter and Christmastide in the world.
At the cottage there was poverty inside, but riches on the roof. Up there stood the great golden sheaf of grain about which the birds of heaven gathered joyfully for their Christmas feast, while inside the cottage food was scanty, as usual. The peasants' little children, however, listened happily to the birds' joyous twitter from the housetop, and took great delight in seeing the fine prints of the sparrow's tiny feet in the smooth snow roundabout.
"If we had threshed that grain, instead of giving it to the sparrows, we might have had fresh wheaten rolls for the children for Christmas,"
sighed the peasant's wife.
"Don't you know that the merciful are blessed?" asked the gentle old peasant with a kind glance at his dissatisfied wife.
"But to let the birds of the air eat our bread," she sighed again.
"Yes, the birds. Furthermore, what matter, even if it were the wild beasts of the forest? Should we not show mercy? Besides, I have saved enough to be able to buy four fresh rolls and a can of milk for Christmas. Let us send the children across the lake to the town with their sled. They will easily get back with the things before evening."
"But suppose they meet a wolf on the ice," suggested the mother.
"I will give Arvid a big club," said the father. "He will get along all right, having that."
So it happened that Arvid and his sister Hanna went to town to buy the treat of white rolls and milk. By this time the snow was piled in great drifts on the ice, and the children had difficulty in dragging the sled, so that when they turned toward home the early darkness was already beginning to settle down. They trudged through the snow as fast as they could, but the drifts were much higher than before, and darkness came on in earnest while they still had quite a long distance to go.
As they struggled on, something black moved in the darkness. When it came nearer, the children saw that it was a wolf.
"Don't be afraid, Hanna," said Arvid. "I have a good club." And with these words, he raised it threateningly.
The wolf was now close beside the children but made no attempt to harm them. He only howled, but the howling was extraordinary for it sounded as if he uttered words in it,--words that the children could understand.
"It is so cold, so cold," howled the wolf. "And my little ones have nothing to eat. Give me some bread for them in the name of mercy."
"Poor little things!" said Hanna. "We will give you _our_ two rolls for them, and we ourselves will eat hard bread to-night, but father and mother must have their Christmas treat."
"Many thanks," said the wolf as he took the two fresh rolls and glided away.
The children strove on through deeper and deeper snow, but in a little while they heard some creature treading heavily behind them. It proved to be a bear.
The bear growled out something in his own language, and at first the children could not find out what he meant although they tried hard; but the bear kept on growling and finally, strangely enough, the children understood. The bear, too, desired a Christmas gift.
"It is so cold, so cold," growled the big creature. "All the water everywhere is frozen and my poor little ones have nothing to drink. Be merciful and give me a little milk for them."
"How is this?" asked Arvid. "Why are you not asleep in your den for the winter, as other bears are? But that is your affair. We will give you our half of the milk for your little ones. Hanna and I can very well drink water to-night, if only father and mother have something good for Christmas."
"Many thanks," said the bear, as he took the milk in a birch-bark cone which he carried in his fore-paws. Then with slow, pompous steps, he lumbered away into the darkness.
The children waded along through the drifts still more eagerly now, for they could see the Christmas lights s.h.i.+ning through the windows of their home; but they had not gone far before an ugly owl came flapping along beside them.
"I will have bread and milk! I will have bread and milk!" screamed the owl, stretching out her long claws to scratch the children.
"Oh, ho!" said Arvid. "If that is the kind you are, I shall have to teach you to be polite." So saying, he gave the owl such a clever blow on the wings with his club that she flew screaming away.
Soon after this the children were at home, gaily beating the snow from their clothes in the little entry.