“Poor men! I pity you for being in Loki’s service,” she said in a sweet voice. “Go, tell your cruel master that his plotting against me has failed and that my enchantment is over. This little boy has saved me,” she continued, pointing to Harald. “The merciless Loki, enraged at the love I bore humanity, changed me into an ash tree, but he had no power to keep me so forever, and was obliged to make a condition. He made the hardest he could think of. Said he: ‘Since you so love mankind, none but the child of man shall free you from your enchantment. You shall remain a tree until you feel the touch of a child who is generous enough to share his last loaf with a stranger; honest enough to give back a reward for honesty, and brave enough to speak the truth when a lie might save his life. Long shall you wait for such a deliverer.’”
Then the soldiers left, glad the little brave boy had escaped the threatened doom.
Harald, looking at the beautiful child, thought she looked very much like the one he had met the evening before, and spoke of it.
“That little elf was my sister,” replied the fairy, “and the brown dwarf who pointed me out to you was my dear friend. He had heard of the little Harald, who was said to be so generous and brave and true, and he tried you, as also did my little sister, who was greatly delighted when she found you could not be tempted to steal.”
Harald’s mother, who had been standing near unnerved and speechless, now came up. Clasping her boy to her heart, she said: “I am prouder today than I would have been if my son had slain a hundred men on the battlefield.”
The little grateful elf always remained Harald’s true friend. She whispered into the ear of the old King about the generosity, bravery, honesty and truthfulness of the boy who lived in the forest.
The King sent his men to bring Harald and his mother to the palace. For his noble virtues he became so well loved by everybody in the land that when the old King, who had no children, died, Harald was chosen King.
For many years he ruled, constantly widening his country’s domain and for his victorious sword was called Harald Hildetand, which means “Harald, the Biting Tooth.”
[This story incorporates some fragmentary elements of certain old Swedish legends, and the following explanations will be useful to the unfamiliar American reader.