"Poor thing, he is hungry," said the queen to her lady-in-waiting. "Give him a dewdrop and the leg of a gnat so that he may for once eat until he is really satisfied."
"Thank you very much," answered Knut. "But might I perhaps have a dish of berries and a pail of milk instead?"
"What coarseness!" said the elf-queen, highly disgusted with such a gluttonous appetite. "Do you know, you human child, that you came into our kingdom without a pass, and that you trod to death three and thirty of our faithful subjects so that there is nothing left of them but a red stain? And you have refused our gracious offer of food and shown yourself to be disgustingly greedy, besides. Forest spinners of our court, do your duty."
Scarcely were the words spoken before a legion of long-legged spiders swung down from the trees and began to spin around Knut a network of countless fine threads. Knut did not relish this, and thought it a very poor joke. He beat away the webspinners, and tried to return to the forest path, but could not stir from the spot. His feet were tangled in an all too strong net, his arms were glued to his sides, his eyes even were plastered shut, and at last down he fell in the grass.
He could see nothing but he could hear how the whole hill rang with laughter; the elves formed a ring around him, danced over him, nipped him on the cheeks like gnats, and were beside themselves with joy over their comical trick.
"Lie there and starve until you can be satisfied with a dewdrop and a gnat leg," said the elves.
Knut fell to pleading with them. "Listen now, little elves," said he. "I shall be content if I may bite on a small piece of reed I have in my jacket pocket. Will not some of you be so good as to stick it into my mouth?"
The elves thought it would be inexpressibly amusing to see this greedy human child eat a piece of reed; so four of them climbed into his jacket pocket and with their united strength drew forth the magic pipe, which, with great effort, they succeeded in putting into his mouth. Thereupon they danced more merrily than ever around and over him, and the hill resounded with their delicate laughter. It was like the humming of a million swarms of gnats.
Knut no sooner felt the pipe between his lips than he began to blow; and this time the tone was pȳ, pȳ. At once the merry laughter came to an end, and sobbing was heard from every direction,—a sound as of a hundred thousand sobbing together, not unlike what one hears in summer when the beating rain lashes the hill.
Knut could not see, but he knew that the elves were crying and he felt that it was a sin, no matter what they had done, to make such merry creatures sob so grievously.