Eisenkopf

Eisenkopf.

The next day some of the cattle were driven to market and sold, and

with the money the old man was able to buy some of the fields and

gardens round his house, and in a few months had grown the richest and

most prosperous man in the whole village. Everything seemed to turn to

gold in his hands, till one day, when he and his son were sitting in

the orchard watching their herds of cattle grazing in the meadows, he

suddenly said: “Peter, my boy, it is time that you were thinking of

marrying.”

“But, my dear father, I told you I can never marry, because of the

promise I gave to Eisenkopf.”

“Oh, one promises here and promises there, but no one ever thinks of

keeping such promises. If Eisenkopf does not like your marrying, he

will have to put up with it all the same! Besides, there stands in the

stable a grey horse which is saddled night and day; and if Eisenkopf

should show his face, you have only got to jump on the horse’s back and

ride away, and nobody on earth can catch you. When all is safe you will

come back again, and we shall live as happily as two fish in the sea.”

And so it all happened. The young man found a pretty, brown-skinned

girl who was willing to have him for a husband, and the whole village

came to the wedding feast. The music was at its gayest, and the dance

at its merriest, when Eisenkopf looked in at the window.

“Oh, ho, my brother! what is going on here? It has the air of being a

wedding feast. Yet I fancied—was I mistaken?—that you had given me a

promise that you never would marry.” But Peter had not waited for the

end of this speech. Scarcely had he seen Eisenkopf than he darted like

the wind to the stable and flung himself on the horse’s back. In

another moment he was away over the mountain, with Eisenkopf running

fast behind him.

On they went through thick forests where the sun never shone, over

rivers so wide that it took a whole day to sail across them, up hills

whose sides were all of glass; on they went through seven times seven

countries till Peter reined in his horse before the house of an old

woman.

“Good day, mother,” said he, jumping down and opening the door.

“Good day, my son,” answered she, “and what are you doing here, at the

world’s end?”

“I am flying for my life, mother, flying to the world which is beyond

all worlds; for Eisenkopf is at my heels.”

“Come in and rest then, and have some food, for I have a little dog who

will begin to howl when Eisenkopf is still seven miles off.”

So Peter went in and warmed himself and ate and drank, till suddenly

the dog began to howl.

“Quick, my son, quick, you must go,” cried the old woman. And the

lightning itself was not quicker than Peter.

“Stop a moment,” cried the old woman again, just as he was mounting his

horse, “take this napkin and this cake, and put them in your bag where

you can get hold of them easily.” Peter took them and put them into his

bag, and waving his thanks for her kindness, he was off like the wind.

Round and round he rode, through seven times seven countries, through

forests still thicker, and rivers still wider, and mountains still more

slippery than the others he had passed, till at length he reached a

house where dwelt another old woman.

“Good day, mother,” said he.

“Good day, my son! What are you seeking here at the world’s end?”

“I am flying for my life, mother, flying to the world that is beyond

all worlds, for Eisenkopf is at my heels.”

“Come in, my son, and have some food. I have a little dog who will

begin to howl when Eisenkopf is still seven miles off; so lie on this

bed and rest yourself in peace.”

Then she went to the kitchen and baked a number of cakes, more than

Peter could have eaten in a whole month. He had not finished a quarter

of them, when the dog began to howl.

“Now, my son, you must go,” cried the old woman “but first put these

cakes and this napkin in your bag, where you can easily get at them.”

So Peter thanked her and was off like the wind.

On he rode, through seven times seven countries, till he came to the

house of a third old woman, who welcomed him as the others had done.

But when the dog howled, and Peter sprang up to go, she said, as she

gave him the same gifts for his journey: “You have now three cakes and

three napkins, for I know that my sisters have each given you one.

Listen to me, and do what I tell you. Ride seven days and nights

straight before you, and on the eighth morning you will see a great

fire. Strike it three times with the three napkins and it will part in

two. Then ride into the opening, and when you are in the middle of the

opening, throw the three cakes behind your back with your left hand.”

Peter thanked her for her counsel, and was careful to do exactly all

the old woman had told him. On the eighth morning he reached a fire so

large that he could see nothing else on either side, but when he struck

it with the napkins it parted, and stood on each hand like a wall. As

he rode through the opening he threw the cakes behind him. From each

cake there sprang a huge dog, and he gave them the names of

World’s-weight, Ironstrong, and Quick-ear. They bayed with joy at the

sight of him, and as Peter turned to pat them, he beheld Eisenkopf at

the edge of the fire, but the opening had closed up behind Peter, and

he could not get through.

“Stop, you promise-breaker,” shrieked he; “you have slipped through my

hands once, but wait till I catch you again!”

Then he lay down by the fire and watched to see what would happen.

When Peter knew that he had nothing more to fear from Eisenkopf, he

rode on slowly till he came to a small white house. Here he entered and

found himself in a room where a gray-haired woman was spinning and a

beautiful girl was sitting in the window combing her golden hair. “What

brings you here, my son?” asked the old woman.

“I am seeking for a place, mother,” answered Peter.

“Stay with me, then, for I need a servant,” said the old woman.

“With pleasure, mother,” replied he.

After that Peter’s life was a very happy one. He sowed and ploughed all

day, except now and then when he took his dogs and went to hunt. And

whatever game he brought back the maiden with the golden hair knew how

to dress it.

One day the old woman had gone to the town to buy some flour, and Peter

and the maiden were left alone in the house. They fell into talk, and

she asked him where his home was, and how he had managed to come

through the fire. Peter then told her the whole story, and of his

striking the flames with the three napkins as he had been told to do.

The maiden listened attentively and wondered in herself whether what he

said was true. So after Peter had gone out to the fields, she crept up

to his room and stole the napkins and then set off as fast as she could

to the fire by a path she knew of over the hill.

At the third blow she gave the flames divided, and Eisenkopf, who had

been watching and hoping for a chance of this kind, ran down the

opening and stood before her. At this sight the maiden was almost

frightened to death, but with a great effort she recovered herself and

ran home as fast as her legs would carry her, closely pursued by

Eisenkopf. Panting for breath she rushed into the house and fell

fainting on the floor; but Eisenkopf entered behind her, and hid

himself in the kitchen under the hearth.

Not long after, Peter came in and picked up the three napkins which the

maiden had dropped on the threshold. He wondered how they got there,

for he knew he had left them in his room; but what was his horror when

he saw the form of the fainting girl lying where she had dropped, as

still and white as if she had been dead. He lifted her up and carried

her to her bed, where she soon revived, but she did not tell Peter

about Eisenkopf, who had been almost crushed to death under the

hearth-stone by the body of World’s-weight.

The next morning Peter locked up his dogs and went out into the forest

alone. Eisenkopf, however, had seen him go, and followed so closely at

his heels that Peter had barely time to clamber up a tall tree, where

Eisenkopf could not reach him. “Come down at once, you gallows bird,”

he cried. “Have you forgotten your promise that you never would marry?”

“Oh, I know it is all up with me,” answered Peter, “but let me call out

three times.”

“You can call a hundred times if you like,” returned Eisenkopf, “for

now I have got you in my power, and you shall pay for what you have

done.”

“Iron-strong, World’s-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help!” cried Peter;

and Quick-ear heard, and said to his brothers: “Listen, our master is

calling us.”

“You are dreaming, fool,” answered World’s-weight; “why he has not

finished his breakfast.” And he gave Quick-ear a slap with his paw, for

he was young and needed to be taught sense.

“Iron-strong, World’s-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help!” cried Peter

again.

This time World’s-weight heard also, and he said, “Ah, now our master

is really calling.”

“How silly you are!” answered Iron-strong; “you know that at this hour

he is always eating.” And he gave World’s-weight a cuff, because he was

old enough to know better.

Peter sat trembling on the tree dreading lest his dogs had never heard,

or else that, having heard, they had refused to come. It was his last

chance, so making a mighty effort he shrieked once more:

“Iron-strong, World’s-weight, Quick-ear, fly to my help, or I am a dead

man!”

And Iron-strong heard, and said: “Yes, he is certainly calling, we must

go at once.” And in an instant he had burst open the door, and all

three were bounding away in the direction of the voice. When they

reached the foot of the tree Peter just said: “At him!” And in a few

minutes there was nothing left of Eisenkopf.

As soon as his enemy was dead Peter got down and returned to the house,

where he bade farewell to the old woman and her daughter, who gave him

a beautiful ring, all set with diamonds. It was really a magic ring,

but neither Peter nor the maiden knew that.

Peter’s heart was heavy as he set out for home. He had ceased to love

the wife whom he had left at his wedding feast, and his heart had gone

out to the golden-haired girl. However, it was no use thinking of that,

so he rode forward steadily.

The fire had to be passed through before he had gone very far, and when

he came to it, Peter shook the napkins three times in the flames and a

passage opened for trim. But then a curious thing happened; the three

dogs, who had followed at his heels all the way, now became three cakes

again, which Peter put into his bag with the napkins. After that he

stopped at the houses of the three old women, and gave each one back

her napkin and her cake.

“Where is my wife?” asked Peter, when he reached home.

“Oh, my dear son, why did you ever leave us? After you had vanished, no

one knew where, your poor wife grew more and more wretched, and would

neither eat nor drink. Little by little she faded away, and a month ago

we laid her in her grave, to hide her sorrows under the earth.”

At this news Peter began to weep, for he had loved his wife before he

went away and had seen the golden-haired maiden.

He went sorrowfully about his work for the space of half a year, when,

one night, he dreamed that he moved the diamond ring given him by the

maiden from his right hand and put it on the wedding finger of the

left. The dream was so real that he awoke at once and changed the ring

from one hand to the other. And as he did so guess what he saw? Why,

the golden-haired girl standing before him. And he sprang up and kissed

her, and said: “Now you are mine for ever and ever, and when we die we

will both be buried in one grave.”

And so they were.

[From Ungarische Mährchen.]