On Christmas Eve the peasants burn a candle all night in the house, and at early morning they go into the cow-house and singe each cow on the tail as a protection against sickness.
"Trolds" are thought to be very musical. If there is an exceptionally clever fiddler at a wedding feast, the peasants say that the performer must have been up the mountains and learnt from the "trolds," who are believed to play weird and bewitching music in the loneliest recesses of the mountains.
In addition to "trolds," there are "huldr" (fairies or sprites). These are said to be very beautiful, and they sometimes assume human form, the only difference being that they have a cow's tail. These "huldr" have their abode underground, and always close by the farm buildings.
It is told that on one occasion a servant-girl by ill-chance threw hot water out from the kitchen door, and immediately the "huldr" called out noisily, screaming that the hot water was scalding them and their children underground. Peasant women to this day will never throw out hot water from their doorways without first saying, "Take care, you who under live." Should children fall sick, the neighbours will say that "the mother cannot expect anything else, for she is in the habit of throwing hot water from the doorway, and the 'huldr' are having revenge."
There is a legend relating to a peasant girl who, on her way to a lonely "sæter," or mountain out-farm, heard a voice near her call out, "Tell Turid that Tarald is dead." The girl could see no one near, and on arriving at the "sæter" told the other girls there what she had heard; immediately there came a loud cry out of the ground, "Oh, it is me who is called Turid, and Tarald is my husband."
A similar story is found in Plutarch, A.D. 120, in which he relates that a skipper sailing among the Greek islands heard a voice which called out, "Thamus." Thamus was the name of the skipper. Twice the voice called out, and he did not answer; but on hearing it for the third time he did reply. The voice then called out to him loudly, "When you come to Palodes, call out that the great Pan is dead."
Thamus thought that he would sail past Palodes, but would not utter a word of what he had heard unless the weather happened to be still. When he arrived there, however, the sea was quiet, and he, remembering the words, called out loudly that the great Pan was dead. Immediately there came from the island a great moaning as of many voices weirdly blended, and this that happened was soon related in Rome.
A quaint conception relating to mountain folklore refers to what is known in Sogn as "jolaskrei," a kind of kelpie or old witch wife; these belong to the nightriders of the kingdom of the departed. They are seen on high, ugly mountain ridges at dead of night. When these kelpies are out, they often visit the stables of the lonely farms and take out the horses. These are brought back again, however, just before dawn, but so overworked or overridden and tired that they are quite ready to collapse with fatigue. To guard against this inconvenience, the peasants paint a cross on the stable door, or lay an axe underneath it. In some places even now the farmers place food and drink on the table on Christmas night after all the family have retired, this being for the kelpies; otherwise they might be angry and cause much annoyance.
In some districts these curious sprites or goblins are known as "vaasedrift." These ride or drive through the night among the farms; and there are those now living who relate that in their fore-elders' time the bits and reins were found on the horses in the early morning, having been placed there by the kelpies.
The spirits of dead Vikings and chiefs who are buried under those huge mounds, "grav-haug," are thought to visit each other, and may be seen flitting to and fro on Christmas eve and for thirteen nights after.