One day a traveler arrived from Myntorp Inn, and the farmer having been notified that it was his turn to furnish a conveyance for him to the next inn, Johan was sent to the pasture to catch a horse. A halter thrown over his shoulder, he set out, whistling the latest love song. Arriving at the pasture, it was soon clear to him that “Bronte” was in no humor to submit to the halter, and though he now and then allowed himself to be approached, no sooner was the attempt made to lay hold on him than he was off, with head and heels in the air, to a safe distance. Johan persevered, perspiration streaming from his forehead, but in vain. Angered at last, he began to swear in a most ungodly manner, still pursuing the horse until his progress was suddenly checked by a high cliff, to the very base of which he had run before discovering it. Naturally casting his glance upward, as he halted, he saw, sitting upon a crag, a beautiful maiden, apparently combing her hair.
“Are you there, my dear boy?” called the maiden.
Johan, not easily frightened, answered her cheerily:
“Yes, my sweetheart.”
“Come here, then,” called the maiden.
“I can’t,” replied Johan.
“Try, Johan.” And he did, to his astonishment finding a foothold on the smooth cliff where before no unevenness was discoverable, and soon he was at the maiden’s side. She looked at him with great, wondering eyes, then, suddenly enveloping him in a mist, clouded his understanding so that he was no longer master of his movements, and was, in fact, transformed completely from the Johan he had been to a being like [[67]]his companion. He forgot horse, home, relatives and friends. Half unconscious, he was conducted into the mountain, and was gone from the sight and power of those who would seek him.
“Bronte” was in harness many good days thereafter, and the farmer became the driver, for, as his sons were growing up, he did not wish to hire another servant in Johan’s stead.
One day, many years after Johan’s disappearance, it was again the farmer’s turn to furnish a horse to a traveler. Grumbling at the fate of Johan, he went to the pasture.
“It was too bad for the boy,” said he to himself. “I wonder if he has been caught by the Trolls?” At the same time he chanced to look upward at the cliff where the servant had seen the Troll maiden, and there stood Johan, but with lusterless eyes, staring into vacancy.