“Farther South Than South, and Farther North Than North, and in the Great Hill of Gold” (Janson, No. 12, p. 39) begins with the story of three maidens in feather dress who have to keep their human form if robbed of their feathers. The legend of Wieland and Smith introduces three similar maidens in swan’s plumage, one of whom he wins for himself; yet when she finds her swan dress again after long years, yearning overpowers her, and she flies away. Our fairy-tale is kindlier, and allows the young fellow to gain his dove princess after strenuous adventures.
XXX
LUCKY ANDREW
There was once a rich peasant who had two sons, named John Nicholas and Lucky Andrew. The oldest was one of those fellows of whom one never can quite make head or tail. He was a most unpleasant customer to deal with, and he was more grasping and greedy than the folk of the Northland are, as a rule, though it is only too rare to find them unblessed with these attractive qualities. The other, Lucky Andrew, was wild and high spirited, but always good natured, and no matter how badly off he might be, he would always insist that he had been born under a lucky star. When the eagle, in order to defend his nest, belabored his head and face till the blood ran, he would still maintain that he was born under a lucky star, if only he managed to bring home a single eaglet. Did his boat capsize, which occasionally happened, and did they discover him hanging to it, quite overcome with the water, cold and exertion, and asked him how he felt, he would reply: “O, quite well. I have been saved. I surely am in luck!”
When their father died, both of them were of age, and not long after they both had to go out to the sand-banks to fetch some fishing-nets, which had been left there since the summer fishing. It was late in the fall, after the time when most fishermen are busy with the summer fishing. Andrew had his gun along, which he carried with him wherever he went. John Nicholas did not say much while they were underway; but he thought all the harder. They were not ready to set out for home again until near evening.
“Hark, Lucky Andrew, do you know there will be a storm to-night?” said John Nicholas, and looked out across the sea. “I think it would be best if we stayed here until morning!”
“There’ll be no storm,” said Andrew. “The Seven Sisters have not put on their fog-caps, so you may be quite at rest.”
But his brother complained of being weary, and at length they decided to remain there for the night. When Andrew awoke he found himself alone; and he saw neither brother nor boat, until he came to the highest point of the island. Then he discovered him far out, darting for land like a sea-gull. Andrew did not understand the whole affair. There were still provisions there, as well as a dish of curd, his gun and various other things. So Andrew wasted but little time in thought. “He will come back this evening,” said he. “Only a fool loses heart so long as he can eat.” But in the evening there was no brother to be seen, and Andrew waited day by day, and week by week; until at last, he realized that his brother had marooned him on this barren island in order to be able to keep their inheritance for himself, and not have to divide it. And such was the case, for when John Nicholas came in sight of land on his homeward trip, he had capsized the boat, and declared that Lucky Andrew had been drowned.
But the latter did not lose heart. He gathered drift-wood along the strand, shot sea-birds, and looked for mussels and roots. He built himself a raft of drift-timber, and fished with a pole that had also been left behind. One day, while he was at work, he happened to notice a depression or hollow in the sand, as though made by the keel of a large Northland schooner, and he could plainly trace the braidings of the hawsers from the strand up to the top of the island. Then he thought to himself that he was in no danger, for he saw there was truth in the report he had often heard, that the meer-folk made the island their abode, and did much business with their ships.