Christmas Fireside Stories: Norwegian Folk & Fairy Tales/Peter Gynt
PETER GYNT.
In the olden days there lived in Kvam a hunter, whose name was Peter Gynt, and who was always roaming about in the mountains after bears and elks, for in those days there were more forests on the mountains than there are now, and consequently plenty of wild beasts. One evening late in the autumn, long after the cattle had left the mountains, Peter set out on one of his usual expeditions. All the dairy-maids had also gone away, except the three girls at the Vala dairy. When Peter came up towards Hövring, where he intended to stay for the night in a deserted dairy, it was so dark that he could scarcely see an arm's length before him. The dogs began barking violently, and it was altogether very dismal and unpleasant. All of a sudden he ran against something, and when he put his hand out, he felt it was cold and slippery and very big. As he didn't think he had gone off the road, he had no idea of what this something could be, but unpleasant it was at any rate.
"Who is it?" asked Peter, for he could now feel it was moving.
"Oh, it's Humpy," was the answer.
Peter was no wiser for this, but walked on one side for some distance, thinking that so he would be able to pass the mysterious presence. But he ran against something again, and when he put his hand out he felt it was very big, cold, and slippery.
"Who is it?" asked Peter Gynt.
"Oh, it's Humpy," was the answer again.
"Well, you'll have to let me pass, whether you are Humpy or not," said Peter, for he guessed now that he was walking round in a ring, and that the monster had circled itself round the dairy. Just then the monster shifted itself a little, and Peter got past and soon found the house. When he came inside he found it was no lighter in there than outside. He was feeling his way about along the wall to put his gun away and hang his bag up, but while he was groping about in this way, he felt again something cold, big, and slippery.
"Who is it?" shouted Peter.
"Oh, it's the big Humpy," was the answer. Wherever he put his hands out or tried to get past he ran against the monster.
"It's not very pleasant to be here, I am sure," thought Peter, "since this Humpy is both outside and inside, but I'll try if I can't shunt this intruder out of my way."
So he took his gun and went outside, feeling his way carefully, till he found what he thought was the head of the monster, which he felt sure was a monster troll.
"What are you, and who are you?" asked Peter.
"Oh, I am the big Humpy from Etnedale," said the troll. Peter did not lose a moment, but fired three shots right into the troll's head.
"Fire another," said the troll. But Peter knew better; if he had fired another shot, the bullet would have rebounded against himself.
Both Peter and the dogs then commenced dragging the troll out of the house, so that they might come inside and make themselves comfortable. Whilst he was so employed he heard jeers and laughter in the hills round about.
"Peter dragged a bit, but the doggies dragged more," said a voice.
Next morning he went out stalking. When he came in between the hills, he saw a lassie, who was calling some sheep up a hill-side. But when he came up to the place, she was gone and the sheep too, and he saw nothing but a pack of bears.
"Well, I never saw bears in a pack before," said Peter to himself. When he went nearer, they had all disappeared, except one.
"Look after your pig,
For Peter Gynt is out
With his gun so big,"
shouted a voice over in the hill.
"Ah, he can't hurt my pig; he hasn't washed himself to-day," said another voice in the hill. Peter washed his hands with some water he had with him. He fired, and shot the bear. Then he heard more jeers and laughter in the hill.
"You should have looked after your pig!" cried a voice.
"I forgot he carried water with him," answered another.
Peter skinned the bear and buried the carcase. On his way home he met a fox.
"Look at my lamb! How fat it is," said a voice in a hill.
"Look at Peter, he is lifting that gun of his," said another voice, just as Peter put his gun up and shot the fox. He skinned the fox also, and took the skin with him. When he came to the dairy, he put both the head of the fox and the bear on the wall outside the house, with their jaws wide open. So he lighted a fire and put a pot on to boil some soup, but the chimney smoked so terribly that he could scarcely keep his eyes open, and had therefore to open a small window. Some time after a troll came and poked his nose in; the nose was so long that it reached across the room to the fireplace.
"Here is a proper nose, if you like," said the troll.
"And here is proper soup! You never tasted the like;" and with that he poured the boiling soup over the troll's nose. The troll ran away wailing and crying, but in all the hills around they were jeering and laughing, and the voices shouted:
"Nosey stew! Nosey stew!"
It was now quiet for some time. Shortly Peter heard a great noise and bustle outside the house. He looked out, and saw a big carriage drawn by bears. They were carting away the big monster into the mountain. Suddenly a bucket of water was thrown down the chimney; the fire was put out, and Peter sat all in the dark. Then a laughing and chuckling commenced in all corners of the room, and a voice said:—
"Now Peter is no better off than the girls at Vala."
So Peter made the fire again, shut up the dairy, and set off for the Vala dairy, taking the dogs with him. When he had gone some distance he saw such a glare of light in the direction of the dairy that it seemed to him the house must be on fire. Just then he came across some wolves. Some of these he shot, and some his dogs killed. But when he came to the dairy it was all dark there; there was no sign of any fire. There were three strangers in the room amusing themselves with the dairy-maids, and one outside the door. They were four hill-trolls, and their names were Gust, Tron, Tjöstöl, and Rolf. Gust was standing outside keeping watch, while the others were inside courting the girls. Peter fired at Gust, but missed him. But the troll ran away frightened, and when Peter came inside he found the trolls flirting with the girls more desperately than ever. Two of them were terribly frightened and were saying their prayers, but the third, who was called Mad Kari, wasn't a bit afraid. They might come there for all she cared; she would like to see what sort of fellows they were. But when the trolls found that Peter was in the room they began whining, and told Rolf to get a light. And then the dogs rushed at Tjöstöl and knocked him over on his back into the burning embers of the fire, so the sparks flew about him.
"Did you see any of my snakes about, Peter?" asked Tron—that was what he called the wolves.
"I'll send you the same way as the snakes," said Peter, and fired a shot at him, and then he killed Tjöstöl with the butt-end of his rifle. Rolf had fled through the chimney.
So when he had cleared all the trolls out, the girls packed up their things, and Peter accompanied them home. They dared not stay any longer up on the hills.
Shortly before Christmas, Peter set out again on another expedition. He had heard of a farm on Dovrefell which was invaded by such a number of trolls every Christmas-eve that the people on the farm had to move out, and get shelter at some of their neighbours. He was anxious to go there, for he had a great fancy to come across the trolls again. He dressed himself in some old ragged clothes, and took a tame white bear, which he had, with him, as well as an awl, some pitch, and twine. When he came to the farm he went in and asked for lodgings.
"God help us!" said the farmer; "we can't give you any lodgings. We have to clear out of the house ourselves soon and look for lodgings, for every Christmas-eve we have the trolls here."
But Peter thought he should be able to clear the trolls out—he had done such a thing before; and then he got leave to stay, and a pig's skin into the bargain. The bear lay down behind the fireplace, and Peter took out his awl, and pitch, and twine, and began making a big, big shoe, which it took the whole pig's skin to make. He put a strong rope in for laces, that he might pull the shoe tightly together, and, finally, he armed himself with a couple of handspikes.
Shortly he heard the trolls coming. They had a fiddler with them, and some began dancing, while others fell to eating the Christmas fare on the table—some fried bacon, and some fried frogs and toads, and other nasty things which they had brought with them. During this some of the trolls found the shoe Peter had made. They thought it must belong to a very big foot. They all wanted to try it on at once, so they put a foot each into it; but Peter made haste and tightened the rope, took one of the handspikes and fastened the rope round it, and got them at last securely tied up in the shoe.
Just then the bear put his nose out from behind the fireplace, where he was lying, and smelt they were frying something.
"Will you have a sausage, pussy?" said one of the trolls, and threw a hot frog right into the bear's jaw.
"Scratch them, pussy!" said Peter.
The bear got so angry that he rushed at the trolls and scratched them all over, while Peter took the other handspike and hammered away at them as if he wanted to beat their brains out. The trolls had to clear out at last, but Peter stayed and enjoyed himself with all the Christmas fare the whole week. After that the trolls were not heard of there for many years.
Some years afterwards, about Christmas-time, the farmer was out in the forest cutting wood for the holidays, when a troll came up to him and shouted—
"Have you got that big pussy of yours, yet?"
"Oh, yes, she is at home behind the fireplace," said the farmer; "and she has got seven kittens all bigger and larger than herself."
"We'll never come to you any more, then," said the troll.