“And if he does,” she thought as she trudged on her way, “I can buy something for the miner and his dear children.”
Now, in that land of Bohemia, on the summit of a lofty mountain, a creature named Rübezahl made his home. He possessed all magic powers, and was so mighty that his sway extended to the very center of the earth. There he had chambers of gold and silver, and diamonds and jewels without number, and often gave of his treasures to those who were good enough to deserve them. He could change himself at will into any form. Now he was a bat flying in the night, now a country swain selling his wares at the fair, and now a woodman cutting down trees in the forest, because thus he was able to find out who was worthy and who unworthy, and to reward or punish them as they deserved.
Hilda had often heard of the strange ways of Rübezahl, and wondered if he would ever cross her path.
“I suppose not,” she murmured, “because I am just a little girl.”
As she came near the fir trees, a tiny white-haired man walked out of the shadow. He had a long white beard and a jolly red face, and looked as if he were the friend of children.
“What are you doing?” he called to her.
“I’ve come to gather cones,” she replied; “some for our fire and some to sell, if the servant from the castle will only buy.”
Then she told him of the miner’s family, of how eager she was to get some money that she might buy a gift for his children, and of her hope that St. Nicholas would not forget them on the Holy Night.
The little old man seemed much interested, and when she finished her story he said, “The largest cones are on that tree. If you hope to sell, gather the best ones.”