Up the Endre-Lake the man had come rowing, who had first cleared this valley; his name was Endre, and it was his descendants who dwelt here.
Some said he had fled hither on account of a murder he had committed, and that was why his family were so dark; others said this was on account of the mountains, which shut out the sun at five o'clock of a midsummer afternoon.
Over this parish there hung an eagle's nest. It was built on a cliff far up the mountains; all could see the mother eagle alight in her nest, but no one could reach it. The male eagle went sailing over the parish, now swooping down after a lamb, now after a kid; once he had also taken a little child and borne it away; therefore there was no safety in the parish as long as the eagle had a nest in this mountain. There was a tradition among the people, that in old times there were two brothers who had climbed up to the nest and torn it down; but nowadays there was no one who was able to reach it.
Whenever two met at the Endregards, they talked about the eagle's nest, and looked up. Every one knew, when the eagles reappeared in the new year, where they had swooped down and done mischief, and who had last endeavored to reach the nest. The youth of the place, from early boyhood, practiced climbing mountains and trees, wrestling and scuffling, in order that one day they might reach the cliff and demolish the nest, as those two brothers had done.
At the time of which this story tells, the best boy at the Endregards was named Leif, and he was not of the Endre family. He had curly hair and small eyes, was clever in all play, and was fond of the fair sex. He early said of himself, that one day he would reach the eagle's nest; but old people remarked that he should not have said so aloud.
This annoyed him, and even before he had reached his prime he made the ascent. It was one bright Sunday forenoon, early in the summer; the young eagles must be just about hatched. A vast multitude of people had gathered together at the foot of the mountain to behold the feat; the old people advising him against attempting it, the young ones urging him on.
But he hearkened only to his own desires, and waiting until the mother eagle left her nest, he gave one spring into the air, and hung in a tree several yards from the ground. The tree grew in a cleft in the rock, and from this cleft he began to climb upward. Small stones loosened under his feet, earth and gravel came rolling down, otherwise all was still, save for the stream flowing behind, with its suppressed, ceaseless murmur. Soon he had reached a point where the mountain began to project; here he hung long by one hand, while his foot groped for a sure resting-place, for he could not see. Many, especially women, turned away, saying he would never have done this had he had parents living. He found footing at last, however sought again, now with the hand, now with the foot, failed, slipped, then hung fast again. They who stood below could hear one another breathing.
Suddenly there rose to her feet, a tall, young girl, who had been sitting on a stone apart from the rest; it was said that she had been betrothed to Leif from early childhood, although he was not of her kindred. Stretching out her arms she called aloud: "Leif, Leif, why do you do this?" Every eye was turned on her. Her father, who was standing close by, gave her a stern look, but she heeded him not. "Come down again, Leif," she cried; "I love you, and there is nothing to be gained up there!"
They could see that he was considering; he hesitated a moment or two, and then started onward. For a long time all went well, for he was sure-footed and had a strong grip; but after a while it seemed as if he were growing weary, for he often paused. Presently a little stone came rolling down as a harbinger, and every one who stood there had to watch its course to the bottom. Some could endure it no longer, and went away.
The girl alone still stood on the stone, and wringing her hands continued to gaze upward.
Once more Leif took hold with one hand but it slipped; she saw this distinctly; then he tried the other; it slipped also. "Leif!" she shouted, so loud that her voice rang through the mountains, and all the others chimed in with her. "He is slipping!" they cried, and stretched up their hands to him, both men and women. He was indeed slipping, carrying with him sand, stones, and earth; slipping, continually slipping, ever faster and faster. The people turned away, and then they heard a rustling and scraping in the mountain behind them, after which, something fell with a heavy thud, like a great piece of wet earth.
When they could look round again, he was lying there crushed and mutilated beyond recognition. The girl had fallen down on the stone, and her father took her up in his arms and bore her away.
The youths who had taken the most pains to incite Leif to the perilous ascent now dared not lend a hand to pick him up; some were even unable to look at him. So the old people had to go forward. The eldest of them, as he took hold of the body, said: "It is very sad, but," he added, casting a look upward, "it is, after all, well that something hangs so high that it cannot be reached by every one."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] To this there will also be found in the Album a melody by Halfdan Kjerulf.
[2] The top of a hill is called in Norwegian "Kamp," and the houseman's place took its name from its situation.
[3] A popular dance in two-fourths time, described in this chapter.
[4] Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[5] A popular dance, in three-fourths time.
[6] A Dane, the most noted psalmist of Scandinavia.
[7] Auber Forestier's translation.
[8] Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[9] Auber Forestier's translation.
[10] Adapted to the metre of the original from the translation of Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[11] Adapted to the metre of the original, from the translation of Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[12] Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[13] A kind of road-sulky used by travelers in Norway.
[14] Important announcements are made to the people in front of the church after service.
[15] The chief magistrate of an amt or county.
[16] Bailiff.
[17] Auber Forestier's translation.
[18] Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[19] The hulder dwells in forests and mountains, appears like a beautiful woman, and usually wears a blue petticoat and a white hood.
She has a long tail, which she tries to conceal when she is among people. She is fond of cattle.
[20] Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[21] Shooting or flinging steel over the head of hulders, trolls, etc., makes the witchery vanish. Thus also a piece of steel laid in the cradle prevents hulders from exchanging little children for their own.
[22] A kind of long snow-shoe.
[23] Adapted to the metre of the original from the translation of Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[24] The peasants call the priest father.
[25] Auber Forestier's translation.
[26] Peasants wear an under-garment high in the neck with long sleeves.
[27] Adapted to the original metre from the translation of Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[28] Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.
[29] The Norse word _datter_ means daughter.