In a jiffy he was there. The wind was just then at home. He asked him: ‘My lord the wind, do you know the way to the city of Perdonkorten?’ The wind: ‘Of course I do. Anyhow, I’m going thither to-morrow morning at three. The king’s daughter there is betrothed, and I am going to blow for them at the wedding, that it may not be too warm. But I shall go through such abysses and such rocks, that I don’t know whether you will be able to follow me.’ The traveller: ‘My lord the wind, never fear. No rock will stop me. I have such a hat, that if I throw it, the ground opens and I go after it whithersoever I will.’ The wind: ‘Well, then, let us go.’ They went at three. They came to a terrible rock. The wind roared, and made his way by a hole through the terrible rock. He could not follow him. Therefore he took off his hat and threw it against the rock. The rock opened. The wind glided on in front and he followed quickly behind.
When it was half-past four in the morning, they had made their way to the city of Perdonkorten. The wind went to blow at the wedding that it mightn’t be too warm for them. He went into the church, seated himself on a bench, and waited for the wedding-party. At eleven music was heard, and fifty couples of wedding guests came into the church. One was more handsomely dressed than the rest. His reverence the chaplain proceeded to say mass for them. After mass he began to take the marriage service. He was sitting on a bench, but nobody saw him, because he had that mantle on. Suddenly he rose from the bench, and gave a thump on the chaplain’s books, so that they fell with a bang on the floor. The chaplain said: ‘One of you two must have such a sin upon him, that you are unfit to receive this sacrament.’ Now the bride began to relate how someone had once come to deliver them. With this person a mutual engagement had been made that she would wait for him seven years, etc. The chaplain: ‘How much time has elapsed?’ She: ‘Five years and a half.’ The chaplain: ‘Now you two must wait a year and a half more. If in that time nothing is heard of him, then you may marry.’ The chaplain, moreover, asked her: ‘Which would you rather have, this one or that other?’ The lady: ‘I should prefer the other, should he come. But I know that I shall never see him again.’
He heard these words, and they pleased him. Now they went home from the church. He who had thumped the books walked amidst the wedding-party, but nobody saw him, because he had the mantle on. The damsel’s father thought it hard thus to send the wedding guests away home, therefore he gave them several cups of wine. The guests drank the wine, and he went up and down in the house, but nobody saw him. When all the wedding guests had taken themselves off home, he doffed his mantle, hung it on a peg, and they recognised him as their deliverer. The beautiful damsel met him in the middle of the house. She threw her arms round his neck, and said: ‘Behold! to-day I should have been married to another husband, if God had not protected me.’
Hereupon they soon prepared a marriage with this new bridegroom. They went to the wedding. The wedding passed off successfully. They got ready a right handsome wedding-feast for them. They had plenty of everything—plenty to drink, and plenty to eat. Moreover, they gave me wine to drink out of a sieve, and bread to eat out of a glass, and one on the back with a shovel. After that I took myself off.
LIX.—THE WHITE SNAKE.
Once upon a time snakes multiplied so prodigiously in the district of Osojani (Ossiach), that every place swarmed with them. The peasants in that district were in evil case. The snakes crept into the parlours, the churches, the dairies, and the beds. People had not even quiet at table, for the hungry snakes made their way into the dish. But the greatest terror was caused by a frightfully large white snake, which was several times seen attacking the cattle at Ososcica (Görlitz Alpe). The peasants did not know how to help themselves; they instituted processions, and went on pilgrimages, that God might please to remove that terrible scourge from them. But neither did that help them.
When the poor people were in the greatest distress, and knew not how to act to rid themselves of this plague, one day an unknown man came into the district, who promised to put an end to every one of the snakes, provided they could assure him that they had seen no great white snake. ‘We have not seen one at all,’ was the reply of some of the number that had collected round the stranger.
Then he caused a great pile to be constructed round a tall fir, and when he had climbed to the top of the fir, he ordered them to set the whole pile on fire on all sides, and afterwards to run quickly aside.
When the flame had risen on all sides against the tall fir, the unknown man took a bone pipe out of his pocket, and began to blow it so powerfully that everybody’s ears tingled. Quickly up rushed and crowded from all quarters a vast number of snakes, lizards, and salamanders to the pile, and, driven by some strange force, all sprang into the fire and perished there. But all at once a mightier and shriller hiss was heard from Ososcica, so that all present were seized with fear and dread. The man on the fir, at hearing it, trembled with terror: ‘Woe is me! there is no help for me!’ so said he. ‘I have heard a white snake hiss; why did you thus mislead me? But be so compassionate as not to forget every year to give alms to the poor on my behalf.’
Scarcely had the poor man uttered these words, when a terrible snake wound its way up with a great noise, like a furious torrent, over the sharp rocks, and plunged into the lake, so that the foam flew up. It soon swam to the other side of the lake, and, all exasperated, rushed to the burning pile, reared itself up against the fir, and pushed the poor man into the fire. The snake itself struggled and hissed terribly in the fire, but the strong fire soon overpowered it.