Legends from River & Mountain

by Carmen Sylva; Alma Strettell

Many years ago there lived in the little town of Stolberg, which is the centre of a mining district in the Hartz Mountains, a certain Joseph Kerst, who was the overseer of one of the neighbouring mines. He had begun work there as a boy, and had no thought or care but for the treasures that were to be found in those dusky depths, so that he had come, early in life, to enjoy a position of trust, and a certain degree of wealth. This, however, was not enough to satisfy him; his great ambition was to discover a fresh vein of silver, that should be his alone, and make him the richest of men; and to this end he would wander night and day about the mountains, and through the disused pits, pick in hand, seeking for a spot that seemed to promise what he desired.

Now, with the wealth which was his already, he might easily have kept a wife, and, indeed, many a girl in the town was on the look-out for overseer Joseph, and would gladly have become the mistress of the comfortable old house on the market-place. At last he did seem to have made his choice, and a good choice too; for he often spent his spare hours with the watchmaker’s daughter Anna, who was the sweetest, gentlest girl in the world, and plainly did not want him for his money, for it was easy to see she worshipped the ground he trod on. If the truth were known, she often wept in secret over his craze for silver, and his dangerous midnight excursions into the heart of the mountains; but the poor, loving creature fancied that when once he had “given her the ring,” which he promised soon to do, she could persuade him to turn his mind to other things.

Meanwhile, however, he did not give up his search, and this is what befell him at last:—It was a moonlight night; he had turned his steps towards one of the disused tunnels of the Auerberg, and was going to enter it, when he saw that the inside of the tunnel itself was flooded with light, as though the moonbeams had found their way in there also. Yet he presently perceived that this was no ray of the moon, for the shaft of light streamed forth from within, even from the very heart of the cavern, and as he gazed, a sound of far-off music struck upon his ear. Now all miners know that there are spirits in the mountain, who draw the precious metal down to the depths of the earth, or suffer it to rise nearer to the surface, according to their pleasure; and Joseph guessed at once that here might be the clue he was seeking. So, spurred on by the thought that he was perhaps near the realisation of his dearest hope, he stepped with a beating heart into the cavern and along the shining pathway of light. Brighter and brighter it grew; louder and sweeter, too, the music swelled forth, till his eyes were dazzled, and his heart throbbed with so exquisite a pleasure that he could hardly draw breath. And now misty forms, as of men and maidens dancing, began to whirl before his eyes upon the golden floor; and then, as these disappeared, he was aware of one radiant figure, clad in snowy, shimmering garments, who stood alone against the dark rock and beckoned to him. As he went nearer he saw that the form was that of a maiden. Her long, dusky tresses fell round a pale, delicate face, in which the large eyes shone out like lamps; her raiment was woven all of silver threads, and in one hand she held a slender silver staff, shaped like a long nail.

Presently she began to speak, and her voice was as sweet as the music which had heralded her coming. “Have no fear, good mortal,” the gentle voice said. “I have watched many a day for thy coming, for I knew thou wert bold, and wouldst venture much, and I need such a one to release me from my prison. Thou art seeking for precious ore. Know, then, that the silver nail I hold can guide thee to the spot where lies the richest vein in all these mountains. But there is a price to pay.” As she spoke these words a smile dawned upon her face. But Joseph had no ears save for the welcome news of the vein of ore; he forgot all his alarm and doubt, and springing forward, cried: “Beautiful spirit, there is no price I would not pay for such knowledge!”

“Art thou sure, Joseph? For this is the price—even that thou shalt wed me, and promise that thou wilt not ever, in the time to come, cast it in my teeth that I am a being of the under-world, and that thou hast been my releaser. Only thus can I be freed; for I seek for love, yea, as thou seekest for wealth; and if there be one in the town yonder who hath already taken thy love, why then the price is not thine to pay, and I warn thee to pause and consider ere thou promise it.”

Joseph felt a chill creep round his heart. He thought of Anna, but her image seemed to grow pale beside the one before him. Yet—a spirit dwelling in the old house on the market-place! How might this be?

The fairy maiden saw his hesitation, and her smile died away. “Nay, not now,” she cried as he opened his lips to answer, “not yet must thou reply, for thy fate and mine will be dark if thou dost promise what thou canst not fulfil. To-morrow night, when the moon is full, come again to the mountain, and let thy heart be honest and thy purpose firm, to answer according to truth.” As she spoke the light vanished, and Joseph stood once more alone at the cavern’s mouth. The moon was setting, and its beams were scarcely bright enough to guide him homeward again, but he stumbled on, unheeding, his mind in a whirl of perplexity and doubt. When he reached his own door, and creeping in, sat down by the warm stove, he could scarcely have told whether he had not been sitting there all night, or whether his adventure had been anything but a dream. Yet nay—he had surely set forth to the Auerberg that evening, and in such haste that his half-finished supper still stood there upon the table. Suppose it were true, and he within an ace of being the richest man in the land? There was Anna—but did he really love Anna? Had he promised her anything? He thought not; all his intercourse with her seemed misty and far off now. Thus through the night and day he struggled with one thought and another, his mind in a whirl. His work was neglected, and even his underlings laughed, unreproved, at his distraught and wandering looks. By evening he had reached a condition in which he could not have sworn to the truth of anything. Probably what he had seen the night before was all fancy; but he must prove it to himself, for if it were true, what vague and foolish lovers’ talk was there in the world worth giving up such a chance for?

Midnight and the full moon saw him standing again at the entrance of the cavern, his mouth dry and his heart beating with anxiety. He waited long. Despair, and a secret rage at his own credulous folly, were beginning to seize hold on him, when his straining eyes caught sight of a faint glimmer spreading through the dark. He hurried forward, and with each step the light grew brighter and brighter, till it led him at last to the rock where he had seen the maiden the night before. But she was not there; the only thing that met his eyes was an iron door, let into the rock on the spot where she had leant. He thrust against it with all his might, and straightway there rang out a strain of the sweetest music, such as he had heard before. And with the sound of the music, these words were borne to his ear: “If thou truly and with a loving heart seekest Eruna, call and she will answer.”

“Eruna!” repeated Joseph with trembling voice; “Eruna!”

At the second call the door flew open beneath his hand, and discovered a rock-hewn chamber, radiant with light that streamed from its walls, and at the farther end of it, just as he had seen her before, stood the magic maiden he had learnt to call Eruna. A golden table stood beside her, and upon it were a book, and a golden candlestick holding a burning taper, and the candlestick was in the shape of a tall lily, with buds and blossoms of gold. But in front of the table, on either side, crouched two strange, terrible creatures with flaming eyes, and their form was like that of a lion.