The Glass Mountain

the Glass Mountain.

A heap of corpses both of riders and horses lay round the mountain,

and many dying men lay groaning there unable to go any farther with

their wounded limbs. The whole neighbourhood had the appearance of a

vast churchyard. In three more days the seven years would be at an

end, when a knight in golden armour and mounted on a spirited steed

was seen making his way towards the fatal hill.

[Footnote 16: From the Polish. Kletke.]

Sticking his spurs into his horse he made a rush at the mountain, and

got up half-way, then he calmly turned his horse’s head and came down

again without a slip or stumble. The following day he started in the

same way; the horse trod on the glass as if it had been level earth,

and sparks of fire flew from its hoofs. All the other knights gazed in

astonishment, for he had almost gained the summit, and in another

moment he would have reached the apple-tree; but of a sudden a huge

eagle rose up and spread its mighty wings, hitting as it did so the

knight’s horse in the eye. The beast shied, opened its wide nostrils

and tossed its mane, then rearing high up in the air, its hind feet

slipped and it fell with its rider down the steep mountain side.

Nothing was left of either of them except their bones, which rattled

in the battered golden armour like dry peas in a pod.

And now there was only one more day before the close of the seven

years. Then there arrived on the scene a mere schoolboy—a merry,

happy-hearted youth, but at the same time strong and well-grown. He

saw how many knights had broken their necks in vain, but undaunted he

approached the steep mountain on foot and began the ascent.

For long he had heard his parents speak of the beautiful Princess who

sat in the golden castle at the top of the Glass Mountain. He listened

to all he heard, and determined that he too would try his luck. But

first he went to the forest and caught a lynx, and cutting off the

creature’s sharp claws, he fastened them on to his own hands and feet.

Armed with these weapons he boldly started up the Glass Mountain. The

sun was nearly going down, and the youth had not got more than

half-way up. He could hardly draw breath he was so worn out, and his

mouth was parched by thirst. A huge black cloud passed over his head,

but in vain did he beg and beseech her to let a drop of water fall on

him. He opened his mouth, but the black cloud sailed past and not as

much as a drop of dew moistened his dry lips.

His feet were torn and bleeding, and he could only hold on now with

his hands. Evening closed in, and he strained his eyes to see if he

could behold the top of the mountain. Then he gazed beneath him, and

what a sight met his eyes! A yawning abyss, with certain and terrible

death at the bottom, reeking with half-decayed bodies of horses and

riders! And this had been the end of all the other brave men who like

himself had attempted the ascent.

[Illustration: The boy attacked by the eagle on the Glass Mountain]

It was almost pitch dark now, and only the stars lit up the Glass

Mountain. The poor boy still clung on as if glued to the glass by his

blood-stained hands. He made no struggle to get higher, for all his

strength had left him, and seeing no hope he calmly awaited death.

Then all of a sudden he fell into a deep sleep, and forgetful of his

dangerous position, he slumbered sweetly. But all the same, although

he slept, he had stuck his sharp claws so firmly into the glass that

he was quite safe not to fall.

Now the golden apple-tree was guarded by the eagle which had

overthrown the golden knight and his horse. Every night it flew round

the Glass Mountain keeping a careful look-out, and no sooner had the

moon emerged from the clouds than the bird rose up from the

apple-tree, and circling round in the air, caught sight of the

sleeping youth.

Greedy for carrion, and sure that this must be a fresh corpse, the

bird swooped down upon the boy. But he was awake now, and perceiving

the eagle, he determined by its help to save himself.

The eagle dug its sharp claws into the tender flesh of the youth, but

he bore the pain without a sound, and seized the bird’s two feet with

his hands. The creature in terror lifted him high up into the air and

began to circle round the tower of the castle. The youth held on

bravely. He saw the glittering palace, which by the pale rays of the

moon looked like a dim lamp; and he saw the high windows, and round

one of them a balcony in which the beautiful Princess sat lost in sad

thoughts. Then the boy saw that he was close to the apple-tree, and

drawing a small knife from his belt, he cut off both the eagle’s feet.

The bird rose up in the air in its agony and vanished into the clouds,

and the youth fell on to the broad branches of the apple-tree.

Then he drew out the claws of the eagle’s feet that had remained in

his flesh, and put the peel of one of the golden apples on the wound,

and in one moment it was healed and well again. He pulled several of

the beautiful apples and put them in his pocket; then he entered the

castle. The door was guarded by a great dragon, but as soon as he

threw an apple at it, the beast vanished.

At the same moment a gate opened, and the youth perceived a courtyard

full of flowers and beautiful trees, and on a balcony sat the lovely

enchanted Princess with her retinue.

As soon as she saw the youth, she ran towards him and greeted him as

her husband and master. She gave him all her treasures, and the youth

became a rich and mighty ruler. But he never returned to the earth,

for only the mighty eagle, who had been the guardian of the Princess

and of the castle, could have carried on his wings the enormous

treasure down to the world. But as the eagle had lost its feet it

died, and its body was found in a wood on the Glass Mountain.

*    *    *    *    *

One day when the youth was strolling about in the palace garden with

the Princess, his wife, he looked down over the edge of the Glass

Mountain and saw to his astonishment a great number of people gathered

there. He blew his silver whistle, and the swallow who acted as

messenger in the golden castle flew past.

‘Fly down and ask what the matter is,’ he said to the little bird, who

sped off like lightning and soon returned saying:

‘The blood of the eagle has restored all the people below to life. All

those who have perished on this mountain are awakening up to-day, as

it were from a sleep, and are mounting their horses, and the whole

population are gazing on this unheard-of wonder with joy and

amazement.’