THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA.
Once upon a time there lived by the great sea two brothers, named Klaus
and Körg; the elder inheriting the rich estates of his ancestors; the
younger a woodchopper, and so poor that it was ofttimes a difficult task
for him to provide bread for his wife and little children.
Hard as life often seems it may be even harder; and so bitterly realized
Körg when, nigh on to one merry Christmas-tide, an accident deprived him
of his strong right hand, thereby cutting off forever his slender means
of livelihood. There was but one resource, and, with crushed spirit Körg
betook himself to his elder brother to crave some mercy for his starving
babes.
Klaus was a harsh man, with love only for his yellow gold. He frowned
impatiently when Körg interrupted his selfish dreams, and, for answer to
his pitiful story, threw him a loaf of bread and a pudding, bidding him
begone and be satisfied. And Körg went forth with a heavy heart, his
faint hope dead.
His homeward path followed the raging sea. The night was dark and
stormy, the waves bellowed and lashed at the shore like an army of
infuriated beasts; but Körg heeded it not, only clutched his bread and
pudding, and walked on with a white despairing face. Suddenly, as he
emerged from a thick bit of woods, he became conscious of a strange
light encircling him, and halting, quite terrified at the phenomenon, he
beheld a little old man, snow-haired and bearded, standing plump in the
path before him.
"You seem in trouble, friend," he ejaculated, with a chuckle. "Something
twists in your world, I trow."
Körg was not slow to recognize a _geist_; his knees shook, and he dared
not utter a word. The elf looked down upon him half displeased, yet
chuckling merrily withal.
"You have nothing to fear from me," he continued, sweetly. "I am the
guardian of the honest poor. This night I come to reveal to you a
secret, which, rightly used, will bestow upon you riches, life-lasting
and unlimited."
Körg, bewildered, could not yet yield simple faith. He clutched
desperately his bread and pudding. He found no joyful words.
The little man frowned scathingly on the gift of Klaus, then burst into
a scornful laugh.
"It is always thus, friend, with the money elves; they deal niggardly,
even at the full. But, care not, since this meagre chip will prove to
you a barter for millions. Follow me! The great estates to Klaus; the
treasures of the sea Körg shall know, to-night!" And, with a hand-wave,
the elf led the way over the rough cliffs, Körg mutely following.
He paused at the base of a hillock, shaped like a horseshoe--a spot
which Körg knew well--a place of rocks, reefs, and general ill-report.
"The time is favorable," muttered the little man, "my children are
hungry, to-night." And, turning to Körg, he continued: "Take the gift of
Klaus and go down into the sea. A crowd will swarm upon you, as
persistent and voracious as any in this upper world. Ask for the
_wonder-mill_, and sacrifice your treasures only in its exchange. I will
await you here."
A spell immediately enwrapped the senses of Körg. Calm and fearless, he
descended into the deep, floating dreamily downward to the glittering
caves from whence, exactly as the elf had depicted, swarmed forth troops
of mermen and mermaids, with eyes and arms voraciously extended towards
the bread and the pudding he held tightly clutched to his breast. But
Körg, spurred on by the elf, resisted them all, nor parted with a single
crumb till the wonder-mill lay safe in his embrace. The little man stood
waiting on the brink.
"I dedicate this to the honest poor," he said, softly. "Yes, Körg, it is
yours. Ask of it what you will, and it shall never fail you--gold,
silver, hundreds of loaves and puddings. But--" and here the little man
paused, a shudder quivered through his frame, and he continued,
solemnly--"remember, that by no hand but yours can it be controlled.
Guard it carefully, for the day you part with it your portion shall be
ashes, and _mine_ annihilation."
When Körg dared lift his eyes the elf had disappeared.
Rahel sat at home with the children, weeping. She knew well the heart of
her brother Klaus, and how vain would be Körg's last effort to save them
from starvation. A step sounded on the path without. Rahel and the babes
stopped to listen. It was not dull and heavy as they had expected, but
blithe as the jingle of sleigh-bells, and, in a second, Körg burst in
upon them, dimpling all over with merry laughter. Rahel regarded him,
amazed.
"You bring no bread to our starving babes, and yet you laugh," she said.
"Oh, Körg! Körg! trouble has made you mad!"
Still chuckling he slipped the wonder-mill from beneath his coat and
said, softly:
"Hush, Rahel! A _geist_ has been with me to-night. I have brought
endless fortune from the depths of the sea." And, plump in the eyes of
his astonished wife, he began turning out loaves and puddings with such
a gusto that the room was soon filled, and Rahel fain to implore him to
cease his elfish work.
From that night, just as the little man had said, riches unlimited came
to the house of Körg. No treasure too great for the mill to produce;
and, though the woodchopper strove hard at secrecy, its fame spread far
and wide from the mountains back to the sea, and folks flocked by
thousands to view the magic engine that Körg had fished up from the the
ocean's depths. And though, always good humoredly, he tested its powers
and loaded his guests with princely gifts, yet he rested night after
night more uneasily upon his pillow, remembering the solemn words of the
_geist_:
"The day you part with it your portion shall be ashes, and _mine_
annihilation."
One day, after the space of a year, there came to the woodchopper's door
a captain from far-off lands.
"I am here," he said, "to see the famous wonder-mill that blesses the
house of Körg."
There was a simplicity about the old tar that completely dismantled
Körg. With less than ordinary caution he brought forth the mill, and
displayed it, in all its phases, before his astonished guest.
"It is a clever trickster," finally he quoth. "I wonder if it could
grind so common a thing as salt."
Körg chuckled contemptuously, and speedily spurted right and left such a
briny shower as made the old tar blink spasmodically and walk hurriedly
away.
But, alas! that night Körg missed the mill from his side; and when, pale
and shivering, he sought the golden treasures hid 'neath the floor, he
found only an ashy heap, heard only the mournful words:
"The mermen and mermaids are dead. The _geists_ have ceased to reign."
Far out on the blue bosom of the sea the jolly captain rode, shouting
uproariously over the treasure he had secured.
"Precious wonder-mill," he sang, "I will try thee in all thy ways. First
salt for savor, then ducks for food, and gold to the end of my days."
And he started the tiny wheels, and clapped his hands frantically at its
ready compliance to his will.
Forth poured the sparkling, crusty grain in one buzzing maze of
whiteness. Thick gathered the milky drifts from bow to stern. Still
shouted the captain his savage joy till--a-sudden he paused, gazed as if
spell-bound on the mill's mad work, with a cry of terror sprang forward
and grasped the check. But, in vain. There was no surcease to its labor.
Higher and higher up lifted the mighty salt banks, and, in a twinkling,
both destroyed and destroyer sank helpless into the depths of the sea.
And, down amid the green sea-weeds, the wonder-mill still stands,
pouring forth salt the whole day long--no hand to check its raging; for
the mermen and mermaids are all dead, and the _geists_ have ceased to
reign.
And this is why the sea-water is salt.
