The
shrivelled frog still sat in the corner alone. Deep
silence reigned around. At
intervals, a half-stifled sigh was
heard from its inmost soul; it was the soul of Helga. It
seemed in pain, as if a new life were arising in her heart.
Then she took a step forward and listened; then stepped again
forward, and seized with her clumsy hands the heavy bar which
was laid across the door. Gently, and with much trouble, she
pushed back the bar, as silently lifted the
latch, and then
took up the glimmering lamp which stood in the
ante-chamber of
the hall. It seemed as if a stronger will than her own gave
her strength. She removed the
iron bolt from the closed
cellar-door, and slipped in to the
prisoner. He was
slumbering. She touched him with her cold, moist hand, and as
he awoke and caught sight of the
hideous form, he shuddered as
if he beheld a wicked apparition. She drew her knife, cut
through the bonds which confined his hands and feet, and
beckoned to him to follow her. He uttered some holy names and
made the sign of the cross, while the form remained motionless
by his side.
"Who art thou?" he asked, "whose outward appearance is
that of an animal, while thou willingly performest acts of
mercy?"
The frog-figure beckoned to him to follow her, and led him
through a long gallery concealed by hanging drapery to the
stables, and then pointed to a horse. He mounted upon it, and
she sprang up also before him, and held tightly by the
animal's mane. The prisoner understood her, and they rode on
at a rapid trot, by a road which he would never have found by
himself, across the open heath. He forgot her ugly form, and
only thought how the mercy and loving-kindness of the Almighty
was acting through this hideous apparition. As he offered
pious prayers and sang holy songs of praise, she trembled. Was
it the effect of prayer and praise that caused this? or, was
she shuddering in the cold morning air at the thought of
approaching twilight? What were her feelings? She raised
herself up, and wanted to stop the horse and spring off, but
the Christian priest held her back with all his might, and
then sang a pious song, as if this could loosen the wicked
charm that had changed her into the semblance of a frog.
And the horse galloped on more wildly than before. The sky
painted itself red, the first sunbeam pierced through the
clouds, and in the clear flood of sunlight the frog became
changed. It was Helga again, young and beautiful, but with a
wicked demonic spirit. He held now a beautiful young woman in
his arms, and he was horrified at the sight. He stopped the
horse, and sprang from its back. He imagined that some new
sorcery was at work. But Helga also leaped from the horse and
stood on the ground. The child's short garment reached only to
her knee. She snatched the sharp knife from her girdle, and
rushed like lightning at the astonished priest. "Let me get at
thee!" she cried; "let me get at thee, that I may plunge this
knife into thy body. Thou art pale as ashes, thou beardless
slave." She pressed in upon him. They struggled with each
other in heavy combat, but it was as if an invisible power had
been given to the Christian in the struggle. He held her fast,
and the old oak under which they stood seemed to help him, for
the loosened roots on the ground became entangled in the
maiden's feet, and held them fast. Close by rose a bubbling
spring, and he sprinkled Helga's face and neck with the water,
commanded the unclean spirit to come forth, and pronounced
upon her a Christian blessing. But the water of faith has no
power unless the well-spring of faith flows within. And yet
even here its power was shown; something more than the mere
strength of a man opposed itself, through his means, against
the evil which struggled within her. His holy action seemed to
overpower her. She dropped her arms, glanced at him with pale
cheeks and looks of amazement. He appeared to her a mighty
magician skilled in secret arts; his language was the darkest
magic to her, and the movements of his hands in the air were
as the secret signs of a magician's wand. She would not have
blinked had he waved over her head a sharp knife or a
glittering axe; but she shrunk from him as he signed her with
the sign of the cross on her forehead and breast, and sat
before him like a tame bird, with her head bowed down. Then he
spoke to her, in gentle words, of the deed of love she had
performed for him during the night, when she had come to him
in the form of an ugly frog, to loosen his bonds, and to lead
him forth to life and light; and he told her that she was
bound in closer fetters than he had been, and that she could
recover also life and light by his means. He would take her to
Hedeby to St. Ansgarius, and there, in that Christian town,
the spell of the sorcerer would be removed. But he would not
let her sit before him on the horse, though of her own free
will she wished to do so. "Thou must sit behind me, not before
me," said he. "Thy magic beauty has a magic power which comes
from an evil origin, and I fear it; still I am sure to
overcome through my faith in Christ." Then he knelt down, and
prayed with pious fervor. It was as if the quiet woodland were
a holy church consecrated by his worship. The birds sang as if
they were also of this new congregation; and the fragrance of
the wild flowers was as the ambrosial perfume of incense;
while, above all, sounded the words of Scripture, "A light to
them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide
their feet into the way of peace." And he spoke these words
with the deep longing of his whole nature.
Meanwhile, the horse that had carried them in wild career
stood quietly by, plucking at the tall bramble-bushes, till
the ripe young berries fell down upon Helga's hands, as if
inviting her to eat. Patiently she allowed herself to be
lifted on the horse, and sat there like a somnambulist - as one
who walked in his sleep. The Christian bound two branches
together with bark, in the form of a cross, and held it on
high as they rode through the forest. The way gradually grew
thicker of brushwood, as they rode along, till at last it
became a trackless wilderness. Bushes of the wild sloe here
and there blocked up the path, so that they had to ride over
them. The bubbling spring formed not a stream, but a marsh,
round which also they were obliged to guide the horse; still
there were strength and refreshment in the cool forest breeze,
and no trifling power in the gentle words spoken in faith and
Christian love by the young priest, whose inmost heart yearned
to lead this poor lost one into the way of light and life. It
is said that rain-drops can make a hollow in the hardest
stone, and the waves of the sea can smooth and round the rough
edges of the rocks; so did the dew of mercy fall upon Helga,
softening what was hard, and smoothing what was rough in her
character. These effects did not yet appear; she was not
herself aware of them; neither does the seed in the lap of
earth know, when the refreshing dew and the warm sunbeams fall
upon it, that it contains within itself power by which it will
flourish and bloom. The song of the mother sinks into the
heart of the child, and the little one prattles the words
after her, without understanding their meaning; but after a
time the thoughts expand, and what has been heard in childhood
seems to the mind clear and bright. So now the "Word," which
is all-powerful to create, was working in the heart of Helga.
They rode forth from the thick forest, crossed the heath,
and again entered a pathless wood. Here, towards evening, they
met with robbers.
"Where hast thou stolen that beauteous maiden?" cried the
robbers, seizing the horse by the bridle, and dragging the two
riders from its back.
The priest had nothing to defend himself with, but the
knife he had taken from Helga, and with this he struck out
right and left. One of the robbers raised his axe against him;
but the young priest sprang on one side, and avoided the blow,
which fell with great force on the horse's neck, so that the
blood gushed forth, and the animal sunk to the ground. Then
Helga seemed suddenly to awake from her long, deep reverie;
she threw herself hastily upon the dying animal. The priest
placed himself before her, to defend and shelter her; but one
of the robbers swung his iron axe against the Christian's head
with such force that it was dashed to pieces, the blood and
brains were scattered about, and he fell dead upon the ground.
Then the robbers seized beautiful Helga by her white arms and
slender waist; but at that moment the sun went down, and as
its last ray disappeared, she was changed into the form of a
frog. A greenish white mouth spread half over her face; her
arms became thin and slimy; while broad hands, with webbed
fingers, spread themselves out like fans. Then the robbers, in
terror, let her go, and she stood among them, a hideous
monster; and as is the nature of frogs to do, she hopped up as
high as her own size, and disappeared in the thicket. Then the
robbers knew that this must be the work of an evil spirit or
some secret sorcery, and, in a terrible fright, they ran
hastily from the spot.
The full moon had already risen, and was shining in all
her radiant splendor over the earth, when from the thicket, in
the form of a frog, crept poor Helga. She stood still by the
corpse of the Christian priest, and the carcase of the dead
horse. She looked at them with eyes that seemed to weep, and
from the frog's head came forth a croaking sound, as when a
child bursts into tears. She threw herself first upon one, and
then upon the other; brought water in her hand, which, from
being webbed, was large and hollow, and poured it over them;
but they were dead, and dead they would remain. She understood
that at last. Soon wild animals would come and tear their dead
bodies; but no, that must not happen. Then she dug up the
earth, as deep as she was able, that she might prepare a grave
for them. She had nothing but a branch of a tree and her two
hands, between the fingers of which the webbed skin stretched,
and they were torn by the work, while the blood ran down her
hands. She saw at last that her work would be useless, more
than she could accomplish; so she fetched more water, and
washed the face of the dead, and then covered it with fresh
green leaves; she also brought large boughs and spread over
him, and scattered dried leaves between the branches. Then she
brought the heaviest stones that she could carry, and laid
them over the dead body, filling up the crevices with moss,
till she thought she had fenced in his resting-place strongly
enough. The difficult task had employed her the whole night;
and as the sun broke forth, there stood the beautiful Helga in
all her loveliness, with her bleeding hands, and, for the
first time, with tears on her maiden cheeks. It was, in this
transformation, as if two natures were striving together
within her; her whole frame trembled, and she looked around
her as if she had just awoke from a painful dream. She leaned
for support against the trunk of a slender tree, and at last
climbed to the topmost branches, like a cat, and seated
herself firmly upon them. She remained there the whole day,
sitting alone, like a frightened squirrel, in the silent
solitude of the wood, where the rest and stillness is as the
calm of death.
Butterflies fluttered around her, and close by were
several ant-hills, each with its hundreds of busy little
creatures moving quickly to and fro. In the air, danced
myriads of gnats, swarm upon swarm, troops of buzzing flies,
ladybirds, dragon-flies with golden wings, and other little
winged creatures. The worm crawled forth from the moist
ground, and the moles crept out; but, excepting these, all
around had the stillness of death: but when people say this,
they do not quite understand themselves what they mean. None
noticed Helga but a flock of magpies, which flew chattering
round the top of the tree on which she sat. These birds hopped
close to her on the branches with bold curiosity. A glance
from her eyes was a signal to frighten them away, and they
were not clever enough to find out who she was; indeed she
hardly knew herself.
When the sun was near setting, and the evening's twilight
about to commence, the approaching transformation aroused her
to fresh exertion. She let herself down gently from the tree,
and, as the last sunbeam vanished, she stood again in the
wrinkled form of a frog, with the torn, webbed skin on her
hands, but her eyes now gleamed with more radiant beauty than
they had ever possessed in her most beautiful form of
loveliness; they were now pure, mild maidenly eyes that shone
forth in the face of a frog. They showed the existence of deep
feeling and a human heart, and the beauteous eyes overflowed
with tears, weeping precious drops that lightened the heart.
On the raised mound which she had made as a grave for the
dead priest, she found the cross made of the branches of a
tree, the last work of him who now lay dead and cold beneath
it. A sudden thought came to Helga, and she lifted up the
cross and planted it upon the grave, between the stones that
covered him and the dead horse. The sad recollection brought
the tears to her eyes, and in this gentle spirit she traced
the same sign in the sand round the grave; and as she formed,
with both her hands, the sign of the cross, the web skin fell
from them like a torn glove. She washed her hands in the water
of the spring, and gazed with astonishment at their delicate
whiteness. Again she made the holy sign in the air, between
herself and the dead man; her lips trembled, her tongue moved,
and the name which she in her ride through the forest had so
often heard spoken, rose to her lips, and she uttered the
words, "Jesus Christ." Then the frog skin fell from her; she
was once more a lovely maiden. Her head bent wearily, her
tired limbs required rest, and then she slept.
Her sleep, however, was short. Towards midnight, she
awoke; before her stood the dead horse, prancing and full of
life, which shone forth from his eyes and from his wounded
neck. Close by his side appeared the murdered Christian
priest, more beautiful than Baldur, as the Viking's wife had
said; but now he came as if in a flame of fire. Such gravity,
such stern justice, such a piercing glance shone from his
large, gentle eyes, that it seemed to penetrate into every
corner of her heart. Beautiful Helga trembled at the look, and
her memory returned with a power as if it had been the day of
judgment. Every good deed that had been done for her, every
loving word that had been said, were vividly before her mind.
She understood now that love had kept her here during the day
of her trial; while the creature formed of dust and clay, soul
and spirit, had wrestled and struggled with evil. She
acknowledged that she had only followed the impulses of an
evil disposition, that she had done nothing to cure herself;
everything had been given her, and all had happened as it were
by the ordination of Providence. She bowed herself humbly,
confessed her great imperfections in the sight of Him who can
read every fault of the heart, and then the priest spoke.
"Daughter of the moorland, thou hast come from the swamp and
the marshy earth, but from this thou shalt arise. The sunlight
shining into thy inmost soul proves the origin from which thou
hast really sprung, and has restored the body to its natural
form. I am come to thee from the land of the dead, and thou
also must pass through the valley to reach the holy mountains
where mercy and perfection dwell. I cannot lead thee to Hedeby
that thou mayst receive Christian baptism, for first thou must
remove the thick veil with which the waters of the moorland
are shrouded, and bring forth from its depths the living
author of thy being and thy life. Till this is done, thou
canst not receive consecration."
Then he lifted her on the horse and gave her a golden
censer, similar to those she had already seen at the Viking's
house. A sweet perfume arose from it, while the open wound in
the forehead of the slain priest, shone with the rays of a
diamond. He took the cross from the grave, and held it aloft,
and now they rode through the air over the rustling trees,
over the hills where warriors lay buried each by his dead
war-horse; and the brazen monumental figures rose up and
galloped forth, and stationed themselves on the summits of the
hills. The golden crescent on their foreheads, fastened with
golden knots, glittered in the moonlight, and their mantles
floated in the wind. The dragon, that guards buried treasure,
lifted his head and gazed after them. The goblins and the
satyrs peeped out from beneath the hills, and flitted to and
fro in the fields, waving blue, red, and green torches, like
the glowing sparks in burning paper. Over woodland and heath,
flood and fen, they flew on, till they reached the wild moor,
over which they hovered in broad circles. The Christian priest
held the cross aloft, and it glittered like gold, while from
his lips sounded pious prayers. Beautiful Helga's voice joined
with his in the hymns he sung, as a child joins in her
mother's song. She swung the censer, and a wonderful fragrance
of incense arose from it; so powerful, that the reeds and
rushes of the moor burst forth into blossom. Each germ came
forth from the deep ground: all that had life raised itself.
Blooming water-lilies spread themselves forth like a carpet of
wrought flowers, and upon them lay a slumbering woman, young
and beautiful. Helga fancied that it was her own image she saw
reflected in the still water. But it was her mother she
beheld, the wife of the Marsh King, the princess from the land
of the Nile.
The dead Christian priest desired that the sleeping woman
should be lifted on the horse, but the horse sank beneath the
load, as if he had been a funeral pall fluttering in the wind.
But the sign of the cross made the airy phantom strong, and
then the three rode away from the marsh to firm ground.
At the same moment the cock crew in the Viking's castle,
and the dream figures dissolved and floated away in the air,
but mother and daughter stood opposite to each other.
"Am I looking at my own image in the deep water?" said the
mother.
"Is it myself that I see represented on a white shield?"
cried the daughter.
Then they came nearer to each other in a fond embrace. The
mother's heart beat quickly, and she understood the quickened
pulses. "My child!" she exclaimed, "the flower of my heart - my
lotus flower of the deep water!" and she embraced her child
again and wept, and the tears were as a baptism of new life
and love for Helga. "In swan's plumage I came here," said the
mother, "and here I threw off my feather dress. Then I sank
down through the wavering ground, deep into the marsh beneath,
which closed like a wall around me; I found myself after a
while in fresher water; still a power drew me down deeper and
deeper. I felt the weight of sleep upon my eyelids. Then I
slept, and dreams hovered round me. It seemed to me as if I
were again in the pyramids of Egypt, and yet the waving elder
trunk that had frightened me on the moor stood ever before me.
I observed the clefts and wrinkles in the stem; they shone
forth in strange colors, and took the form of hieroglyphics.
It was the mummy case on which I gazed. At last it burst, and
forth stepped the thousand years' old king, the mummy form,
black as pitch, black as the shining wood-snail, or the slimy
mud of the swamp. Whether it was really the mummy or the Marsh
King I know not. He seized me in his arms, and I felt as if I
must die. When I recovered myself, I found in my bosom a
little bird, flapping its wings, twittering and fluttering.
The bird flew away from my bosom, upwards towards the dark,
heavy canopy above me, but a long, green band kept it fastened
to me. I heard and understood the tenor of its longings.
Freedom! sunlight! to my father! Then I thought of my father,
and the sunny land of my birth, my life, and my love. Then I
loosened the band, and let the bird fly away to its home - to a
father. Since that hour I have ceased to dream; my sleep has
been long and heavy, till in this very hour, harmony and
fragrance awoke me, and set me free."
The green band which fastened the wings of the bird to the
mother's heart, where did it flutter now? whither had it been
wafted? The stork only had seen it. The band was the green
stalk, the cup of the flower the cradle in which lay the
child, that now in blooming beauty had been folded to the
mother's heart.
And while the two were resting in each other's arms, the
old stork flew round and round them in narrowing circles, till
at length he flew away swiftly to his nest, and fetched away
the two suits of swan's feathers, which he had preserved there
for many years. Then he returned to the mother and daughter,
and threw the swan's plumage over them; the feathers
immediately closed around them, and they rose up from the
earth in the form of two white swans.
"And now we can converse with pleasure," said the
stork-papa; "we can understand one another, although the beaks
of birds are so different in shape. It is very fortunate that
you came to-night. To-morrow we should have been gone. The
mother, myself and the little ones, we're about to fly to the
south. Look at me now: I am an old friend from the Nile, and a
mother's heart contains more than her beak. She always said
that the princess would know how to help herself. I and the
young ones carried the swan's feathers over here, and I am
glad of it now, and how lucky it is that I am here still. When
the day dawns we shall start with a great company of other
storks. We'll fly first, and you can follow in our track, so
that you cannot miss your way. I and the young ones will have
an eye upon you."
"And the lotus-flower which I was to take with me," said
the Egyptian princess, "is flying here by my side, clothed in
swan's feathers. The flower of my heart will travel with me;
and so the riddle is solved. Now for home! now for home!"
But Helga said she could not leave the Danish land without
once more seeing her foster-mother, the loving wife of the
Viking. Each pleasing recollection, each kind word, every tear
from the heart which her foster-mother had wept for her, rose
in her mind, and at that moment she felt as if she loved this
mother the best.
"Yes, we must go to the Viking's castle," said the stork;
"mother and the young ones are waiting for me there. How they
will open their eyes and flap their wings! My wife, you see,
does not say much; she is short and abrupt in her manner; but
she means well, for all that. I will flap my wings at once,
that they may hear us coming." Then stork-papa flapped his
wings in first-rate style, and he and the swans flew away to
the Viking's castle.
In the castle, every one was in a deep sleep. It had been
late in the evening before the Viking's wife retired to rest.
She was anxious about Helga, who, three days before, had
vanished with the Christian priest. Helga must have helped him
in his flight, for it was her horse that was missed from the
stable; but by what power had all this been accomplished? The
Viking's wife thought of it with wonder, thought on the
miracles which they said could be performed by those who
believed in the Christian faith, and followed its teachings.
These passing thoughts formed themselves into a vivid dream,
and it seemed to her that she was still lying awake on her
couch, while without darkness reigned. A storm arose; she
heard the lake dashing and rolling from east and west, like
the waves of the North Sea or the Cattegat. The monstrous
snake which, it is said, surrounds the earth in the depths of
the ocean, was trembling in spasmodic convulsions. The night
of the fall of the gods was come, "Ragnorock," as the heathens
call the judgment-day, when everything shall pass away, even
the high gods themselves. The war trumpet sounded; riding upon
the rainbow, came the gods, clad in steel, to fight their last
battle on the last battle-field. Before them flew the winged
vampires, and the dead warriors closed up the train. The whole
firmament was ablaze with the northern lights, and yet the
darkness triumphed. It was a terrible hour. And, close to the
terrified woman, Helga seemed to be seated on the floor, in
the hideous form of a frog, yet trembling, and clinging to her
foster-mother, who took her on her lap, and lovingly caressed
her, hideous and frog-like as she was. The air was filled with
the clashing of arms and the hissing of arrows, as if a storm
of hail was descending upon the earth. It seemed to her the
hour when earth and sky would burst asunder, and all things be
swallowed up in Saturn's fiery lake; but she knew that a new
heaven and a new earth would arise, and that corn-fields would
wave where now the lake rolled over desolate sands, and the
ineffable God reign. Then she saw rising from the region of
the dead, Baldur the gentle, the loving, and as the Viking's
wife gazed upon him, she recognized his countenance. It was
the captive Christian priest. "White Christian!" she exclaimed
aloud, and with the words, she pressed a kiss on the forehead
of the hideous frog-child. Then the frog-skin fell off, and
Helga stood before her in all her beauty, more lovely and
gentle-looking, and with eyes beaming with love. She kissed
the hands of her foster-mother, blessed her for all her
fostering love and care during the days of her trial and
misery, for the thoughts she had suggested and awoke in her
heart, and for naming the Name which she now repeated. Then
beautiful Helga rose as a mighty swan, and spread her wings
with the rushing sound of troops of birds of passage flying
through the air.
Then the Viking's wife awoke, but she still heard the
rushing sound without. She knew it was the time for the storks
to depart, and that it must be their wings which she heard.
She felt she should like to see them once more, and bid them
farewell. She rose from her couch, stepped out on the
threshold, and beheld, on the ridge of the roof, a party of
storks ranged side by side. Troops of the birds were flying in
circles over the castle and the highest trees; but just before
her, as she stood on the threshold and close to the well where
Helga had so often sat and alarmed her with her wildness, now
stood two swans, gazing at her with intelligent eyes. Then she
remembered her dream, which still appeared to her as a
reality. She thought of Helga in the form of a swan. She
thought of a Christian priest, and suddenly a wonderful joy
arose in her heart. The swans flapped their wings and arched
their necks as if to offer her a greeting, and the Viking's
wife spread out her arms towards them, as if she accepted it,
and smiled through her tears. She was roused from deep thought
by a rustling of wings and snapping of beaks; all the storks
arose, and started on their journey towards the south.
"We will not wait for the swans," said the mamma stork;
"if they want to go with us, let them come now; we can't sit
here till the plovers start. It is a fine thing after all to
travel in families, not like the finches and the partridges.
There the male and the female birds fly in separate flocks,
which, to speak candidly, I consider very unbecoming."
"What are those swans flapping their wings for?"
"Well, every one flies in his own fashion," said the papa
stork. "The swans fly in an oblique line; the cranes, in the
form of a triangle; and the plovers, in a curved line like a
snake."
"Don't talk about snakes while we are flying up here,"
said stork-mamma. "It puts ideas into the children's heads
that can not be realized."
"Are those the high mountains I have heard spoken of?"
asked Helga, in the swan's plumage.
"They are storm-clouds driving along beneath us," replied
her mother.
"What are yonder white clouds that rise so high?" again
inquired Helga.
"Those are mountains covered with perpetual snows, that
you see yonder," said her mother. And then they flew across
the Alps towards the blue Mediterranean.
"Africa's land! Egyptia's strand!" sang the daughter of
the Nile, in her swan's plumage, as from the upper air she
caught sight of her native land, a narrow, golden, wavy strip
on the shores of the Nile; the other birds espied it also and
hastened their flight.
"I can smell the Nile mud and the wet frogs," said the
stork-mamma, "and I begin to feel quite hungry. Yes, now you
shall taste something nice, and you will see the marabout
bird, and the ibis, and the crane. They all belong to our
family, but they are not nearly so handsome as we are. They
give themselves great airs, especially the ibis. The Egyptians
have spoilt him. They make a mummy of him, and stuff him with
spices. I would rather be stuffed with live frogs, and so
would you, and so you shall. Better have something in your
inside while you are alive, than to be made a parade of after
you are dead. That is my opinion, and I am always right."
"The storks are come," was said in the great house on the
banks of the Nile, where the lord lay in the hall on his downy
cushions, covered with a leopard skin, scarcely alive, yet not
dead, waiting and hoping for the lotus-flower from the deep
moorland in the far north. Relatives and servants were
standing by his couch, when the two beautiful swans who had
come with the storks flew into the hall. They threw off their
soft white plumage, and two lovely female forms approached the
pale, sick old man, and threw back their long hair, and when
Helga bent over her grandfather, redness came back to his
cheeks, his eyes brightened, and life returned to his benumbed
limbs. The old man rose up with health and energy renewed;
daughter and grandchild welcomed him as joyfully as if with a
morning greeting after a long and troubled dream.
Joy reigned through the whole house, as well as in the
stork's nest; although there the chief cause was really the
good food, especially the quantities of frogs, which seemed to
spring out of the ground in swarms.
Then the learned men hastened to note down, in flying
characters, the story of the two princesses, and spoke of the
arrival of the health-giving flower as a mighty event, which
had been a blessing to the house and the land. Meanwhile, the
stork-papa told the story to his family in his own way; but
not till they had eaten and were satisfied; otherwise they
would have had something else to do than to listen to stories.
"Well," said the stork-mamma, when she had heard it, "you
will be made something of at last; I suppose they can do
nothing less."
"What could I be made?" said stork-papa; "what have I
done?- just nothing."
"You have done more than all the rest," she replied. "But
for you and the youngsters the two young princesses would
never have seen Egypt again, and the recovery of the old man
would not have been effected. You will become something. They
must certainly give you a doctor's hood, and our young ones
will inherit it, and their children after them, and so on. You
already look like an Egyptian doctor, at least in my eyes."
"I cannot quite remember the words I heard when I listened
on the roof," said stork-papa, while relating the story to his
family; "all I know is, that what the wise men said was so
complicated and so learned, that they received not only rank,
but presents; even the head cook at the great house was
honored with a mark of distinction, most likely for the soup."
"And what did you receive?" said the stork-mamma. "They
certainly ought not to forget the most important person in the
affair, as you really are. The learned men have done nothing
at all but use their tongues. Surely they will not overlook
you."
Late in the night, while the gentle sleep of peace rested
on the now happy house, there was still one watcher. It was
not stork-papa, who, although he stood on guard on one leg,
could sleep soundly. Helga alone was awake. She leaned over
the balcony, gazing at the sparkling stars that shone clearer
and brighter in the pure air than they had done in the north,
and yet they were the same stars. She thought of the Viking's
wife in the wild moorland, of the gentle eyes of her
foster-mother, and of the tears she had shed over the poor
frog-child that now lived in splendor and starry beauty by the
waters of the Nile, with air balmy and sweet as spring. She
thought of the love that dwelt in the breast of the heathen
woman, love that had been shown to a wretched creature,
hateful as a human being, and hideous when in the form of an
animal. She looked at the glittering stars, and thought of the
radiance that had shone forth on the forehead of the dead man,
as she had fled with him over the woodland and moor. Tones
were awakened in her memory; words which she had heard him
speak as they rode onward, when she was carried, wondering and
trembling, through the air; words from the great Fountain of
love, the highest love that embraces all the human race. What
had not been won and achieved by this love?
Day and night beautiful Helga was absorbed in the
contemplation of the great amount of her happiness, and lost
herself in the contemplation, like a child who turns hurriedly
from the giver to examine the beautiful gifts. She was
over-powered with her good fortune, which seemed always
increasing, and therefore what might it become in the future?
Had she not been brought by a wonderful miracle to all this
joy and happiness? And in these thoughts she indulged, until
at last she thought no more of the Giver. It was the
over-abundance of youthful spirits unfolding its wings for a
daring flight. Her eyes sparkled with energy, when suddenly
arose a loud noise in the court below, and the daring thought
vanished. She looked down, and saw two large ostriches running
round quickly in narrow circles; she had never seen these
creatures before, - great, coarse, clumsy-looking birds with
curious wings that looked as if they had been clipped, and the
birds themselves had the appearance of having been roughly
used. She inquired about them, and for the first time heard
the legend which the Egyptians relate respecting the ostrich.
Once, say they, the ostriches were a beautiful and
glorious race of birds, with large, strong wings. One evening
the other large birds of the forest said to the ostrich,
"Brother, shall we fly to the river to-morrow morning to
drink, God willing?" and the ostrich answered, "I will."
With the break of day, therefore, they commenced their
flight; first rising high in the air, towards the sun, which
is the eye of God; still higher and higher the ostrich flew,
far above the other birds, proudly approaching the light,
trusting in its own strength, and thinking not of the Giver,
or saying, "if God will." When suddenly the avenging angel
drew back the veil from the flaming ocean of sunlight, and in
a moment the wings of the proud bird were scorched and
shrivelled, and they sunk miserably to the earth. Since that
time the ostrich and his race have never been able to rise in
the air; they can only fly terror-stricken along the ground,
or run round and round in narrow circles. It is a warning to
mankind, that in all our thoughts and schemes, and in every
action we undertake, we should say, "if God will."
Then Helga bowed her head thoughtfully and seriously, and
looked at the circling ostrich, as with timid fear and simple
pleasure it glanced at its own great shadow on the sunlit
walls. And the story of the ostrich sunk deeply into the heart
and mind of Helga: a life of happiness, both in the present
and in the future, seemed secure for her, and what was yet to
come might be the best of all, God willing.
Early in the spring, when the storks were again about to
journey northward, beautiful Helga took off her golden
bracelets, scratched her name on them, and beckoned to the
stork-father. He came to her, and she placed the golden
circlet round his neck, and begged him to deliver it safely to
the Viking's wife, so that she might know that her
foster-daughter still lived, was happy, and had not forgotten
her.
"It is rather heavy to carry," thought stork-papa, when he
had it on his neck; "but gold and honor are not to be flung
into the street. The stork brings good fortune - they'll be
obliged to acknowledge that at last."
"You lay gold, and I lay eggs," said stork-mamma; "with
you it is only once in a way, I lay eggs every year But no one
appreciates what we do; I call it very mortifying."
"But then we have a consciousness of our own worth,
mother," replied stork-papa.
"What good will that do you?" retorted stork-mamma; "it
will neither bring you a fair wind, nor a good meal."
"The little nightingale, who is singing yonder in the
tamarind grove, will soon be going north, too." Helga said she
had often heard her singing on the wild moor, so she
determined to send a message by her. While flying in the
swan's plumage she had learnt the bird language; she had often
conversed with the stork and the swallow, and she knew that
the nightingale would understand. So she begged the
nightingale to fly to the beechwood, on the peninsula of
Jutland, where a mound of stone and twigs had been raised to
form the grave, and she begged the nightingale to persuade all
the other little birds to build their nests round the place,
so that evermore should resound over that grave music and
song. And the nightingale flew away, and time flew away also.
In the autumn, an eagle, standing upon a pyramid, saw a
stately train of richly laden camels, and men attired in armor
on foaming Arabian steeds, whose glossy skins shone like
silver, their nostrils were pink, and their thick, flowing
manes hung almost to their slender legs. A royal prince of
Arabia, handsome as a prince should be, and accompanied by
distinguished guests, was on his way to the stately house, on
the roof of which the storks' empty nests might be seen. They
were away now in the far north, but expected to return very
soon. And, indeed, they returned on a day that was rich in joy
and gladness.
A marriage was being celebrated, in which the beautiful
Helga, glittering in silk and jewels, was the bride, and the
bridegroom the young Arab prince. Bride and bridegroom sat at
the upper end of the table, between the bride's mother and
grandfather. But her gaze was not on the bridegroom, with his
manly, sunburnt face, round which curled a black beard, and
whose dark fiery eyes were fixed upon her; but away from him,
at a twinkling star, that shone down upon her from the sky.
Then was heard the sound of rushing wings beating the air. The
storks were coming home; and the old stork pair, although
tired with the journey and requiring rest, did not fail to fly
down at once to the balustrades of the verandah, for they knew
already what feast was being celebrated. They had heard of it
on the borders of the land, and also that Helga had caused
their figures to be represented on the walls, for they
belonged to her history.
"I call that very sensible and pretty," said stork-papa.
"Yes, but it is very little," said mamma stork; "they
could not possibly have done less."
But, when Helga saw them, she rose and went out into the
verandah to stroke the backs of the storks. The old stork pair
bowed their heads, and curved their necks, and even the
youngest among the young ones felt honored by this reception.
Helga continued to gaze upon the glittering star, which
seemed to glow brighter and purer in its light; then between
herself and the star floated a form, purer than the air, and
visible through it. It floated quite near to her, and she saw
that it was the dead Christian priest, who also was coming to
her wedding feast - coming from the heavenly kingdom.
"The glory and brightness, yonder, outshines all that is
known on earth," said he.
Then Helga the fair prayed more gently, and more
earnestly, than she had ever prayed in her life before, that
she might be permitted to gaze, if only for a single moment,
at the glory and brightness of the heavenly kingdom. Then she
felt herself lifted up, as it were, above the earth, through a
sea of sound and thought; not only around her, but within her,
was there light and song, such as words cannot express.
"Now we must return;" he said; "you will be missed."
"Only one more look," she begged; "but one short moment
more."
"We must return to earth; the guests will have all
departed. Only one more look!- the last!"
Then Helga stood again in the verandah. But the marriage
lamps in the festive hall had been all extinguished, and the
torches outside had vanished. The storks were gone; not a
guest could be seen; no bridegroom - all in those few short
moments seemed to have died. Then a great dread fell upon her.
She stepped from the verandah through the empty hall into the
next chamber, where slept strange warriors. She opened a side
door, which once led into her own apartment, but now, as she
passed through, she found herself suddenly in a garden which
she had never before seen here, the sky blushed red, it was
the dawn of morning. Three minutes only in heaven, and a whole
night on earth had passed away! Then she saw the storks, and
called to them in their own language.
Then stork-papa turned his head towards here, listened to
her words, and drew near. "You speak our language," said he,
"what do you wish? Why do you appear, - you - a strange woman?"
"It is I - it is Helga! Dost thou not know me? Three
minutes ago we were speaking together yonder in the verandah."
"That is a mistake," said the stork, "you must have
dreamed all this."
"No, no," she exclaimed. Then she reminded him of the
Viking's castle, of the great lake, and of the journey across
the ocean.
Then stork-papa winked his eyes, and said, "Why that's an
old story which happened in the time of my grandfather. There
certainly was a princess of that kind here in Egypt once, who
came from the Danish land, but she vanished on the evening of
her wedding day, many hundred years ago, and never came back.
You may read about it yourself yonder, on a monument in the
garden. There you will find swans and storks sculptured, and
on the top is a figure of the princess Helga, in marble."
And so it was; Helga understood it all now, and sank on
her knees. The sun burst forth in all its glory, and, as in
olden times, the form of the frog vanished in his beams, and
the beautiful form stood forth in all its loveliness; so now,
bathed in light, rose a beautiful form, purer, clearer than
air - a ray of brightness - from the Source of light Himself.
The body crumbled into dust, and a faded lotus-flower lay on
the spot on which Helga had stood.
"Now that is a new ending to the story," said stork-papa;
"I really never expected it would end in this way, but it
seems a very good ending."
"And what will the young ones say to it, I wonder?" said
stork-mamma.
"Ah, that is a very important question," replied the
stork.
The Marsh King's Daughter: Part II
The Marsh King's Daughter