The Pigmy of Folkared’s Cliff.
It is probable that there are few places more gloomy and uninviting than certain parts of the parish [[87]]of Sibbarp, in the Province of Halland. Dark heaths cover a good portion of the parish, and from their dull brown surface rises, here and there, a lonely, cheerless mountain. One of these is Folkared’s Cliff, in the southern part of the parish, noted of old as the abiding-place of little Trolls and Pigmies.
One chilly autumn day a peasant, going from Hogared, in Ljungby, to Folkared, in Sibbarp, in order to shorten his journey took a short cut by way of the cliff, upon reaching which he perceived a Pigmy about the size of a child seven or eight years old, sitting upon a stone crying.
“Where is your home?” asked the peasant, moved by the seeming distress of the little fellow.
“Here,” sobbed the Pigmy, pointing to the mountain.
“How long have you lived here?” questioned the peasant in surprise.
“Six hundred years.”
“Six hundred years! You lie, you rascal, and you deserve to be whipped for it.”
“Oh! do not strike me,” pleaded the Pigmy, continuing to cry. “I have had enough of blows already to-day.”
“Who have you received them from?” asked the peasant.
“From my father.”
“What capers did you cut up that you were thus punished?”
“Oh, I was set to watch my old grandfather and [[88]]when I chanced to turn my back he fell and hurt himself upon the floor.”
The peasant then understood what character of person he had met, and grasping his dirk he prepared to defend himself. But instantly he heard an awful crash in the mountain, and the pigmy had vanished. [[89]]
The Freebooter’s Grave.[1]
During the bloody war under Charles XII. with Denmark, a number of freebooters had gone from Skåne into Halland, and marked their way, as usual, with plundering and murder. A number, after the parsonage and other houses in Hishult had been ransacked, went back to Skåne; the rest continued their course to the north.
At Böghult, in the parish of Tönnersjö, a number of peasants had gathered to oppose them. They possessed, for the most part, no other weapons than axes, scythes and sticks; only two, brothers from Böghult, were better armed. Each of these had his gun, which, as residents in the woods and hunters, they knew well how to handle. In stationing the forces, the two brothers were placed far out on the road, in the direction from which the freebooters were expected to make their appearance, while the others remained in a body some distance in their rear.
After many hours’ waiting a ragged, sorry-looking horseman, mounted on a rough-coated and saddleless horse, came into view. From his rear came the sounds of laughter and merry-making of the approaching horde. [[90]]
“Look sharp! here they come!” said one of the brothers.
“See! They have stolen father’s horse!” said the other, as he brought his gun to his eye.
“Hold on!” whispered the first, “My gun is surer than yours. Let me take care of the thief.” These words were followed by a loud report, and the horseman tumbled from his seat.
Alarmed at the result, the two brothers retreated hastily to their support in the rear, and nothing further was heard of the enemy. The following day some of the bravest of the peasants set out to reconnoiter, but the freebooters had disappeared. They came, however, upon a heap of stones which the marauders had thrown up to mark the grave of their companion.
This pile of stones was ever after called the freebooter’s grave. [[91]]
[1] When the robber’s grave was opened, in the year 1870, human bones were found in it, strengthening the supposition that the legend is founded on facts. [↑]
