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Book Five
Little Robber-Girl.
The coach drove
on through a thick forest, where it lighted up the way
like a torch, and dazzled the eyes of some robbers, who could not bear
to let it pass them unmolested.
``It is gold!
it is gold!'' cried they, rushing forward, and seizing the horses. Then
they struck the little jockeys, the coachman, and the footman dead, and
pulled little Gerda out of the carriage.
``She is fat and
pretty, and she has been fed with the kernels of nuts,'' said the old robber-woman,
who had a long beard and eyebrows that hung over her eyes. ``She is as
good as a little lamb; how nice she will taste!'' and as she said this,
she drew forth a shining knife, that glittered horribly. ``Oh!'' screamed
the old woman the same moment; for her own daughter, who held her back,
had bitten her in the ear. She was a wild and naughty girl, and the mother
called her an ugly thing, and had not time to kill Gerda.
``She shall play
with me,'' said the little robber-girl; ``she shall give me her muff and
her pretty dress, and sleep with me in my bed.'' And then she bit her mother
again, and made her spring in the air, and jump about; and all the robbers
laughed, and said, ``See how she is dancing with her young cub.''
``I will have
a ride in the coach,'' said the little robber-girl; and she would have
her own way; for she was so self-willed and obstinate.
She and Gerda
seated themselves in the coach, and drove away, over stumps and stones,
into the depths of the forest. The little robber-girl was about the same
size as Gerda, but stronger; she had broader shoulders and a darker skin;
her eyes were quite black, and she had a mournful look. She clasped little
Gerda round the waist, and said,--
``They shall not
kill you as long as you don't make us vexed with you. I suppose you are
a princess.''
``No,'' said Gerda;
and then she told her all her history, and how fond she was of little Kay.
The robber-girl
looked earnestly at her, nodded her head slightly, and said, ``They sha'nt
kill you, even if I do get angry with you; for I will do it myself.'' And
then she wiped Gerda's eyes, and stuck her own hands in the beautiful muff
which was so soft and warm.
The coach stopped
in the courtyard of a robber's castle, the walls of which were cracked
from top to bottom. Ravens and crows flew in and out of the holes and crevices,
while great bulldogs, either of which looked as if it could swallow a man,
were jumping about; but they were not allowed to bark. In the large and
smoky hall a bright fire was burning on the stone floor. There was no chimney;
so the smoke went up to the ceiling, and found a way out for itself. Soup
was boiling in a large cauldron, and hares and rabbits were roasting on
the spit.
``You shall sleep
with me and all my little animals to-night,'' said the robber-girl, after
they had had something to eat and drink. So she took Gerda to a corner
of the hall, where some straw and carpets were laid down. Above them, on
laths and perches, were more than a hundred pigeons, who all seemed to
be asleep, although they moved slightly when the two little girls came
near them.
``These all belong
to me,'' said the robber-girl; and she seized the nearest to her, held
it by the feet, and shook it till it flapped its wings. ``Kiss it,'' cried
she, flapping it in Gerda's face. ``There sit the wood-pigeons,'' continued
she, pointing to a number of laths and a cage which had been fixed into
the walls, near one of the openings. ``Both rascals would fly away directly,
if they were not closely locked up. And here is my old sweetheart `Ba;'
'' and she dragged out a reindeer by the horn; he wore a bright copper
ring round his neck, and was tied up. ``We are obliged to hold him tight
too, or else he would run away from us also. I tickle his neck every evening
with my sharp knife, which frightens him very much.''
And then the robber-girl
drew a long knife from a chink in the wall, and let it slide gently over
the reindeer's neck. The poor animal began to kick, and the little robber-girl
laughed, and pulled down Gerda into bed with her.
``Will you have
that knife with you while you are asleep?'' asked Gerda, looking at it
in great fright.
``I always sleep
with the knife by me,'' said the robber-girl. ``No one knows what may happen.
But now tell me again all about little Kay, and why you went out into the
world.''
Then Gerda repeated
her story over again, while the wood-pigeons in the cage over her cooed,
and the other pigeons slept. The little robber-girl put one arm across
Gerda's neck, and held the knife in the other, and was soon fast asleep
and snoring. But Gerda could not close her eyes at all; she knew not whether
she was to live or die. The robbers sat round the fire, singing and drinking,
and the old woman stumbled about. It was a terrible sight for a little
girl to witness.
Then the wood-pigeons
said, ``Coo, coo; we have seen little Kay. A white fowl carried his sledge,
and he sat in the carriage of the Snow Queen, which drove through the wood
while we were lying in our nest. She blew upon us, and all the young ones
died excepting us two. Coo, coo.''
``What are you
saying up there?'' cried Gerda. ``Where was the Snow Queen going? Do you
know anything about it?''
``She was most
likely travelling to Lapland, where there is always snow and ice. Ask the
reindeer that is fastened up there with a rope.''
``Yes, there is
always snow and ice,'' said the reindeer; ``and it is a glorious place;
you can leap and run about freely on the sparkling ice plains. The Snow
Queen has her summer tent there, but her strong castle is at the North
Pole, on an island called Spitzbergen.''
``Oh, Kay, little
Kay!'' sighed Gerda.
``Lie still,''
said the robber-girl, ``or I shall run my knife into your body.''
In the morning
Gerda told her all that the wood-pigeons had said; and the little robber-girl
looked quite serious, and nodded her head, and said, ``That is all talk,
that is all talk. Do you know where Lapland is?'' she asked the reindeer.
``Who should know
better than I do?'' said the animal, while his eyes sparkled. ``I was born
and brought up there, and used to run about the snow-covered plains.''
``Now listen,''
said the robber-girl; ``all our men are gone away,-- only mother is here,
and here she will stay; but at noon she always drinks out of a great bottle,
and afterwards sleeps for a little while; and then, I'll do something for
you.'' Then she jumped out of bed, clasped her mother round the neck, and
pulled her by the beard, crying, ``My own little nanny goat, good morning.''
Then her mother filliped her nose till it was quite red; yet she did it
all for love.
When the mother
had drunk out of the bottle, and was gone to sleep, the little robber-maiden
went to the reindeer, and said, ``I should like very much to tickle your
neck a few times more with my knife, for it makes you look so funny; but
never mind,--I will untie your cord, and set you free, so that you may
run away to Lapland; but you must make good use of your legs, and carry
this little maiden to the castle of the Snow Queen, where her play-fellow
is. You have heard what she told me, for she spoke loud enough, and you
were listening.''
Then the reindeer
jumped for joy; and the little robber-girl lifted Gerda on his back, and
had the forethought to tie her on, and even to give her her own little
cushion to sit on.
``Here are your
fur boots for you,'' said she; ``for it will be very cold; but I must keep
the muff; it is so pretty. However, you shall not be frozen for the want
of it; here are my mother's large warm mittens; they will reach up to your
elbows. Let me put them on. There, now your hands look just like my mother's.''
But Gerda wept
for joy. ``I don't like to see you fret,'' said the little robber-girl;
``you ought to look quite happy now; and here are two loaves and a ham,
so that you need not starve.'' These were fastened on the reindeer, and
then the little robber-maiden opened the door, coaxed in all the great
dogs, and then cut the string with which the reindeer was fastened, with
her sharp knife, and said, ``Now run, but mind you take good care of the
little girl.''
And then Gerda
stretched out her hand, with the great mitten on it, towards the little
robber-girl, and said, ``Farewell,'' and away flew the reindeer, over stumps
and stones, through the great forest, over marshes and plains, as quickly
as he could. The wolves howled, and the ravens screamed; while up in the
sky quivered red lights like flames of fire.
``There are my
old northern lights,'' said the reindeer; ``see how they flash.'' And he
ran on day and night still faster and faster, but the loaves and the ham
were all eaten by the time they reached Lapland.
Book Six
The Lapland Woman and the Finland Woman
They stopped at
a little hut; it was very mean looking; the roof sloped nearly down to
the ground, and the door was so low that the family had to creep in on
their hands and knees, when they went in and out. There was no one at home
but an old Lapland woman, who was cooking fish by the light of a train-oil
lamp. The reindeer told her all about Gerda's story, after having first
told his own, which seemed to him the most important, but Gerda was so
pinched with the cold that she could not speak.
``Oh, you poor
things,'' said the Lapland woman, ``you have a long way to go yet. You
must travel more than a hundred miles farther, to Finland. The Snow Queen
lives there now, and she burns Bengal lights every evening. I will write
a few words on a dried stock-fish, for I have no paper, and you can take
it from me to the Finland woman who lives there; she can give you better
information than I can.'' So when Gerda was warmed, and had taken something
to eat and drink, the woman wrote a few words on the dried fish, and told
Gerda to take great care of it. Then she tied her again on the reindeer,
and he set off at full speed. Flash, flash, went the beautiful blue northern
lights in the air the whole night long.
And at length
they reached Finland, and knocked at the chimney of the Finland woman's
hut, for it had no door above the ground. They crept in, but it was so
terribly hot inside that that woman wore scarcely any clothes; she was
small and very dirty looking. She loosened little Gerda's dress, and took
off the fur boots and the mittens, or Gerda would have been unable to bear
the heat; and then she placed a piece of ice on the reindeer's head, and
read what was written on the dried fish. After she had read it three times,
she knew it by heart, so she popped the fish into the soup saucepan, as
she knew it was good to eat, and she never wasted anything. The reindeer
told his own story first, and then little Gerda's, and the Finlander twinkled
with her clever eyes, but she said nothing. ``You are so clever,'' said
the reindeer; ``I know you can tie all the winds of the world with a piece
of twine. If a sailor unties one knot, he has a fair wind; when he unties
the second, it blows hard; but if the third and fourth are loosened, then
comes a storm, which will root up whole forests. Cannot you give this little
maiden something which will make her as strong as twelve men, to overcome
the Snow Queen?''
``The Power of
twelve men!'' said the Finland woman; ``that would be of very little use.''
But she went to a shelf and took down and unrolled a large skin, on which
were inscribed wonderful characters, and she read till the perspiration
ran down from her forehead. But the reindeer begged so hard for little
Gerda, and Gerda looked at the Finland woman with such beseeching tearful
eyes, that her own eyes began to twinkle again; so she drew the reindeer
into a corner, and whispered to him while she laid a fresh piece of ice
on his head, ``Little Kay is really with the Snow Queen, but he finds everything
there so much to his taste and his liking, that he believes it is the finest
place in the world; but this is because he has a piece of broken glass
in his heart, and a little piece of glass in his eye. These must be taken
out, or he will never be a human being again, and the Snow Queen will retain
her power over him.''
``But can you
not give little Gerda something to help her to conquer this power?''
``I can give her
no greater power than she has already,'' said the woman; ``don't you see
how strong that is? How men and animals are obliged to serve her, and how
well she has got through the world, barefooted as she is. She cannot receive
any power from me greater than she now has, which consists in her own purity
and innocence of heart. If she cannot herself obtain access to the Snow
Queen, and remove the glass fragments from little Kay, we can do nothing
to help her. Two miles from here the Snow Queen's garden begins; you can
carry the little girl so far, and set her down by the large bush which
stands in the snow, covered with red berries. Do not stay gossiping, but
come back here as quickly as you can.'' Then the Finland woman lifted little
Gerda upon the reindeer, and he ran away with her as quickly as he could.
``Oh, I have forgotten
my boots and my mittens,'' cried little Gerda, as soon as she felt the
cutting cold, but the reindeer dared not stop, so he ran on till he reached
the bush with the red berries; here he set Gerda down, and he kissed her,
and the great bright tears trickled over the animal's cheeks; then he left
her and ran back as fast as he could.
There stood poor
Gerda, without shoes, without gloves, in the midst of cold, dreary, ice-bound
Finland. She ran forwards as quickly as she could, when a whole regiment
of snow-flakes came round her; they did not, however, fall from the sky,
which was quite clear and glittering with the northern lights. The snow-flakes
ran along the ground, and the nearer they came to her, the larger they
appeared. Gerda remembered how large and beautiful they looked through
the burning-glass. But these were really larger, and much more terrible,
for they were alive, and were the guards of the Snow Queen, and had the
strangest shapes. Some were like great porcupines, others like twisted
serpents with their heads stretching out, and some few were like little
fat bears with their hair bristled; but all were dazzlingly white, and
all were living snow-flakes.
Then little Gerda
repeated the Lord's Prayer, and the cold was so great that she could see
her own breath come out of her mouth like steam as she uttered the words.
The steam appeared to increase, as she continued her prayer, till it took
the shape of little angels who grew larger the moment they touched the
earth. They all wore helmets on their heads, and carried spears and shields.
Their number continued to increase more and more; and by the time Gerda
had finished her prayers, a whole legion stood round her. They thrust their
spears into the terrible snow-flakes, so that they shivered into a hundred
pieces, and little Gerda could go forward with courage and safety. The
angels stroked her hands and feet, so that she felt the cold less, and
she hastened on to the Snow Queen's castle.
But now we must
see what Kay is doing. In truth he thought not of little Gerda, and never
supposed she could be standing in the front of the palace. Book Seven
Of the Palace of the Snow Queen and What Happened There
at Last.
The walls of the
palace were formed of drifted snow, and the windows and doors of the cutting
winds. There were more than a hundred rooms in it, all as if they had been
formed with snow blown together. The largest of them extended for several
miles; they were all lighted up by the vivid light of the aurora, and they
were so large and empty, so icy cold and glittering! There were no amusements
here, not even a little bear's ball, when the storm might have been the
music, and the bears could have danced on their hind legs, and shown their
good manners. There were no pleasant games of snap-dragon, or touch, or
even a gossip over the tea-table, for the young-lady foxes. Empty, vast,
and cold were the halls of the Snow Queen. The flickering flame of the
northern lights could be plainly seen, whether they rose high or low in
the heavens, from every part of the castle. In the midst of its empty,
endless hall of snow was a frozen lake, broken on its surface into a thousand
forms; each piece resembled another, from being in itself perfect as a
work of art, and in the centre of this lake sat the Snow Queen, when she
was at home. She called the lake ``The Mirror of Reason,'' and said that
it was the best, and indeed the only one in the world.
Little Kay was
quite blue with cold, indeed almost black, but he did not feel it; for
the Snow Queen had kissed away the icy shiverings, and his heart was already
a lump of ice. He dragged some sharp, flat pieces of ice to and fro, and
placed them together in all kinds of positions, as if he wished to make
something out of them; just as we try to form various figures with little
tablets of wood which we call ``a Chinese puzzle.'' Kay's fingers were
very artistic; it was the icy game of reason at which he played, and in
his eyes the figures were very remarkable, and of the highest importance;
this opinion was owing to the piece of glass still sticking in his eye.
He composed many complete figures, forming different words, but there was
one word he never could manage to form, although he wished it very much.
It was the word ``Eternity.'' The Snow Queen had said to him, ``When you
can find out this, you shall be your own master, and I will give you the
whole world and a new pair of skates.'' But he could not accomplish it.
``Now I must hasten
away to warmer countries,'' said the Snow Queen. ``I will go and look into
the black craters of the tops of the burning mountains, Etna and Vesuvius,
as they are called,--I shall make them look white, which will be good for
them, and for the lemons and the grapes.'' And away flew the Snow Queen,
leaving little Kay quite alone in the great hall which was so many miles
in length; so he sat and looked at his pieces of ice, and was thinking
so deeply, and sat so still, that any one might have supposed he was frozen.
Just at this moment
it happened that little Gerda came through the great door of the castle.
Cutting winds were raging around her, but she offered up a prayer and the
winds sank down as if they were going to sleep; and she went on till she
came to the large empty hall, and caught sight of Kay; she knew him directly;
she flew to him and threw her arms round his neck, and held him fast, while
she exclaimed, ``Kay, dear little Kay, I have found you at last.''
But he sat quite
still, stiff and cold.
Then little Gerda
wept hot tears, which fell on his breast, and penetrated into his heart,
and thawed the lump of ice, and washed away the little piece of glass which
had stuck there. Then he looked at her, and she sang--
``Roses bloom
and cease to be, But we shall the Christ-child see.''
Then Kay burst
into tears, and he wept so that the splinter of glass swam out of his eye.
Then he recognized Gerda, and said, joyfully, ``Gerda, dear little Gerda,
where have you been all this time, and where have I been?'' And he looked
all around him, and said, ``How cold it is, and how large and empty it
all looks,'' and he clung to Gerda, and she laughed and wept for joy. It
was so pleasing to see them that the pieces of ice even danced about; and
when they were tired and went to lie down, they formed themselves into
the letters of the word which the Snow Queen had said he must find out
before he could be his own master, and have the whole world and a pair
of new skates. Then Gerda kissed his cheeks, and they became blooming;
and she kissed his eyes, and they shone like her own; she kissed his hands
and his feet, and then he became quite healthy and cheerful. The Snow Queen
might come home now when she pleased, for there stood his certainty of
freedom, in the word she wanted, written in shining letters of ice.
Then they took
each other by the hand, and went forth from the great palace of ice. They
spoke of the grandmother, and of the roses on the roof, and as they went
on the winds were at rest, and the sun burst forth. When they arrived at
the bush with red berries, there stood the reindeer waiting for them, and
he had brought another young reindeer with him, whose udders were full,
and the children drank her warm milk and kissed her on the mouth.
Then they carried
Kay and Gerda first to the Finland woman, where they warmed themselves
thoroughly in the hot room, and she gave them directions about their journey
home. Next they went to the Lapland woman, who had made some new clothes
for them, and put their sleighs in order. Both the reindeer ran by their
side, and followed them as far as the boundaries of the country, where
the first green leaves were budding. And here they took leave of the two
reindeer and the Lapland woman, and all said--Farewell. Then the birds
began to twitter, and the forest too was full of green young leaves; and
out of it came a beautiful horse, which Gerda remembered, for it was one
which had drawn the golden coach. A young girl was riding upon it, with
a shining red cap on her head, and pistols in her belt. It was the little
robber-maiden, who had got tired of staying at home; she was going first
to the north, and if that did not suit her, she meant to try some other
part of the world. She knew Gerda directly, and Gerda remembered her: it
was a joyful meeting.
``You are a fine
fellow to go gadding about in this way,'' said she to little Kay, ``I should
like to know whether you deserve that any one should go to the end of the
world to find you.''
But Gerda patted
her cheeks, and asked after the prince and princess. ``They are gone to
foreign countries,'' said the robber-girl. ``And the crow?'' asked Gerda.
``Oh, the crow is dead,'' she replied; ``his tame sweetheart is now a widow,
and wears a bit of black worsted round her leg. She mourns very pitifully,
but it is all stuff. But now tell me how you managed to get him back.''
Then Gerda and
Kay told her all about it. ``Snip, snap, snare! it's all right at last,''
said the robber-girl. Then she took both their hands, and promised that
if ever she should pass through the town, she would call and pay them a
visit. And then she rode away into the wide world. But Gerda and Kay went
hand-in-hand towards home; and as they advanced, spring appeared more lovely
with its green verdure and its beautiful flowers. Very soon they recognized
the large town where they lived, and the tall steeples of the churches,
in which the sweet bells were ringing a merry peal as they entered it,
and found their way to their grandmother's door. They went upstairs into
the little room, where all looked just as it used to do.
The old clock
was going ``tick, tick,'' and the hands pointed to the time of day, but
as they passed through the door into the room they perceived that they
were both grown up, and become a man and woman. The roses out on the roof
were in full bloom, and peeped in at the window; and there stood the little
chairs, on which they had sat when children; and Kay and Gerda seated themselves
each on their own chair, and held each other by the hand, while the cold
empty grandeur of the Snow Queen's palace vanished from their memories
like a painful dream. The grandmother sat in God's bright sunshine, and
she read aloud from the Bible, ``Except ye become as little children, ye
shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of God.'' And Kay and Gerda looked
into each other's eyes, and all at once understood the words of the old
song,
``Roses bloom
and cease to be, But we shall the Christ-child see.''
And they both
sat there, grown up, yet children at heart; and it was summer,--warm, beautiful
summer.
The End
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