Legends from River & Mountain

by Carmen Sylva; Alma Strettell

“When he could speak, he told me that it had at first been light in the cavern, and that at the farther end of it he had found, sure enough, a great chest full of gold. He was busy filling a sack he had brought with him, when he heard my call, and turning, saw that the front of the cavern was growing quite dark, and closing up. In horror, he started towards it, dragging his half-filled sack; but before he could reach the cave’s mouth, a huge black form, like that of a monstrous dog, dashed upon him out of the shadow and struck the sack of gold from his hand. He fell fainting to the earth, and never knew, he said, how he reached the spot from which my hand dragged him forth. I carried him to the village; but when the folk who lived there heard where he had been, they would have nothing to say to him, and we were fain to take refuge in a lonely hut, where I cared for his wounds as best I could. But he never held up his head again, and died yesterday. There was nothing left for me to do, since none would help me, but to carry him home as ye have seen.”

The man stopped speaking, and an awe-struck silence fell on the company. The first to break it was a stranger, who had joined them, unheeded in the common excitement.

“I fear,” said he, “that ye miss yet another of your countrymen from among you to-night, and though I am no friend of his, yet I, too, felt it was all I could do to come hither and bring you tidings of him—sad ones though they be. One Fritz of Schneeberg took up his quarters in our village, many long miles from here, a few weeks back. He, too, told us he had been wandering in search of adventure, and asked if there were no hidden treasures in our land. Well, to be sure, we told him of the Güss, a deep lake that lies in one of our valleys. It is said that a rich and prosperous farm once stood there, of which the owners were as wicked as they were rich. So one night, thus the tale runs, this lake rose suddenly from the depths of the earth, and swallowed up the farmhouse and all it contained, yet the gold belonging to those wicked men is still lying down below there, for any bold diver who has a mind to go and try for it. No one in our village has ever tried, within the memory of man; but this Fritz declared he was at home in the water and did not fear to make the venture. He was a bold fellow. Many of us tried to dissuade him—yes, some of our maidens amongst the number,” he added with a half-smile; “but no one succeeded, and the tale went through the country-side that a stranger was going to dive to the bottom of the Güss for the treasure. Fritz spent some time every day swimming and diving in the lake, and soon got to know its deeps and shallows, and the exact spot where the house stands, for on clear days one can plainly see from a boat the shadow that it casts. At length the day came on which he had promised to make the trial; and a great crowd of people, among whom were some very wealthy noblemen from a neighbouring castle, assembled to see it. Fritz dived once, and it was a long time before he reappeared; ye could have heard a pin drop in the crowd while we waited. But he came up again, and told us he had seen the house, as plain as he saw the boat we were awaiting him in. The roof had fallen in, and in one of the top chambers he had seen the promised heap of gold. Every one gaped, except those grand gentlemen, for they, one could see, didn’t believe him.

“‘I am ready to go again,’ cried Fritz, standing up on the boat’s edge. ‘I will have that gold yet!’

“The noble gentlemen looked scornful, yet one seemed half convinced, and said—

“‘Thou’rt a bold lad. Do but bring me one of yon pieces of gold, and I will add a thousand golden crowns to it!’

“The unlucky lad needed no other spur; in he leapt, and we waited, hopefully at first, but all in vain. Fritz never came to the top again, and we tried without success even to drag the lake for his body.”

This second dismal tale was received with lamentations, for Fritz had been a popular lad, and had left a widowed mother behind him. Some one was heard to say that Mistress Gretchen stood a poor chance of getting any husband at all, since her father’s greed had been the means of bringing ill luck to so many poor fellows—for the Hartzman had not turned up either, and doubtless he too had come to a bad end. “Ah!” said another bystander, “Christopher Schürer was right, and it had been better to have worked for their wealth like other men.”

“Schürer, indeed!” echoed Master Ran, trying to put a bold face on it, despite the dismay which he, too, secretly felt: “And where, prithee, is he? Did he, too, not promise to show himself on this evening?”