PEER GYNT.
In the old days there lived in Kvam a hunter, whose name was Peer Gynt. He was always up in the mountains shooting bears and elks; for in those days there were more forests on the mountains to harbour such wild beasts. One time, late in the autumn, long after the cattle had been driven home, Peer set out for the hills. Every one had left the uplands except three sæter-girls. When Peer came up towards Hövring, where he was to pass the night in a sæter, it was so dark that he could not see his fist before him, and the dogs fell to barking and baying so that it was quite uncanny. All of a sudden he ran against something, and when he put his hand out he felt it was cold and slippery and big. Yet he did not seem to have strayed from the road, so he couldn’t think what this could be; but unpleasant it was at any rate.
“Who is it?” asked Peer, for he felt it moving.
“Oh, it’s the Boyg,”[[147]] was the answer.
Peer was no wiser for this, but skirted along it for a bit, thinking that somewhere he must be able to pass. Suddenly he ran against something again, and when he put out his hand, it too was big, and cold, and slippery.
“Who is it?” asked Peer Gynt.
“Oh, it’s the Boyg,” was the answer again.
“Well, straight or crooked, you’ll have to let me pass,” said Peer; for he understood that he was walking in a ring, and that the Boyg had curled itself round the sæter. Thereupon it shifted a little, so that Peer got past. When he came inside the sæter, it was no lighter there than outside. He was feeling along the wall for a place to hang up his gun and his bag; but as he was groping his way forward he again felt something cold, and big, and slippery. — “Who is it?” shouted Peer.
“Oh, it’s the great Boyg,” was the answer. Where-ever he put his hands out or tried to get past, he felt the Boyg encircling him.
“It’s not very pleasant to be here,” thought Peer, “since this Boyg is both out and in; but I think I can make short work of the nuisance.”