In the midst of the dense Hella Woods, at the back of which towered the great mountain known as the Hellagebirge, a small clearing had been made in one of the sunny glades; and here, many miles away from human habitation, a mysterious old witch had made her abode. A rough, tumble-down hut served her for shelter, winter and summer alike; and for companion she had a little maiden whom she had kidnapped when but a tiny toddler, and whom she had brought up to look upon her as her grandmother, to mind her geese for her and to assist in the brewing of her magic potions.
The little goose-girl, since babyhood, had never beheld any other human being, and was never permitted to wander beyond sight of the hut; but she knew that other people existed, since she had heard the old dame speak of the folk she had seen in her own journeyings to and fro, and whom she often cursed when muttering her evil spells.
In vain did the captured child ask for news of the bright world beyond the forest depths, and express her longings for beautiful things, for fair companions, and for the love and joy that her youth demanded; for, in reply, she only gained cruel beatings and harder tasks than ever, and she learned to hide her longings and to find pleasure in her secret thoughts.
When she was good and obedient, she was set to mind the geese and prevent them from straying far into the woodland depths; and this was a task she loved, for then she could sit outside in the sunshine, or gaze at the reflection of her own pretty face in the sparkling streamlet, and even deck herself with flowers when the old witch was not looking.
The geese all loved her, since she was gentle with them and regarded them as her friends, as well as the other birds and timid wild creatures that dwelt in the woods; and one fair dove that nested in a neighbouring linden-tree, she loved above them all, for its soft cooing often brought her comfort when she was sad at heart.
One sunny day, the little goose-girl lay stretched on a hillock beneath the linden-tree, whilst the geese snapped and plucked at the grass around her, or splashed in the pond close by; and as she lay there, she pulled at the daisies and hummed softly to herself, whilst her feathered friend, the gentle dove, cooed softly on a branch above.
Though still clad in a short, ragged gown, she was now in the first flush of fair young maidenhood, and possessed marvellous beauty, with the natural grace and noble bearing of a Princess; and in spite of the red kerchief which so tightly swathed her head, a few stray golden locks escaped to betray the hidden wealth of her woman\'s crowning glory.
She lay thus sweetly day-dreaming in full sight of the hut, on the roof of which hopped a tame raven cawing to a big yellow tom-cat on the ground below; but, presently, she was interrupted by the old witch, who popped her head out of the window and began to scold the girl for letting the geese stray too far.
The goose-girl sprang up and collected the geese together once more; and then, hearing the witch still calling to her, she entered the little garden, where she stopped again to gaze at a lovely golden-yellow lily-bud growing there, sighing because it refused to open to the light of day.
The old dame, however, soon dragged her away with a cuff, and, putting a kettle into her hands, bade her draw water from the trough near by; and when the girl stooped again to smile at her fair reflection in the water, she scolded her more than ever, and set her to knead a magic cake.
The goose-girl made the cake, kneading into it various strange powders and herbs given her for the purpose by the witch; and when it was done, she held it high above her head, declaring that he who ate of it should see his sweetheart quickly. The old witch, however, snatched it from her and declared instead that it would bring death to those who ate of it.
The girl, full of horror, ran off to rest beneath the linden-tree and seek comfort from her pet dove; and presently, the old witch departed into the forest depths beyond, to gather simples and loathsome things for her potions, first telling the young captive that it was useless for her to try to wander away, since she had cast a spell over the bushes and briars, and that they would thus hold her back.
As soon as the dame had departed, the little goose-girl\'s spirits rose at once, so that she began to sing and dance in the sunshine; and then, snatching up a wreath of wild-flowers she had made earlier in the day and hidden in a bush, she set it on her head, and ran to gaze at her reflection in the water trough.
The charming picture she saw there delighted her, and she called to the geese to come and admire her also; but whilst she laughed at their quacking and rejoiced in her own fair looks, she was suddenly addressed by a stranger, and, turning in haste, found herself face to face with a handsome youth, who, though clad in garments torn and travel-stained, yet had the proud and kingly air of one of royal birth.
Though at first terrified, the goose-girl gazed in amazement at the stranger, her fear quickly vanishing in wonder, admiration, and delight; and when the youth laughed at her surprise and begged her to give him greeting, she asked in awestruck tones:—"Are you a man?"
The stranger laughingly assured her that he was, keeping his own eyes fixed upon her face, for, though he had beheld many fair maidens before, he had never yet been confronted with one of such dazzling loveliness as this ragged child.
He told her that he was a king\'s son, but that, dissatisfied with the emptiness of his life, he had wandered forth from his royal home to seek adventures in the wide world and to gain renown alone and unaided, but that his sword had gained him little glory yet, and that his wanderings had reduced him to the point of beggary; and then he asked her if he might quench his thirst at the trough, begging her also to drink with him.
The goose-girl gladly agreed to his request; and afterwards she led him to her favourite nook beneath the linden-tree, where the pair sat together and gazed into each other\'s eyes, still entranced by their mutual beauty.
The King\'s Son could scarce believe his companion to be aught but a fairy, so fresh and fair were her looks; and his eyes grew more and more tender as, in answer to her wondering questions, he told her the uses of his flashing sword, of his father\'s kingship, of his own yearnings and dissatisfaction, and of his wanderings and adventures, in which he had learned to brave dangers, to despise wounds, and to take a proud delight in freedom and the joy of living.
The little goose-girl listened, enthralled and spellbound, to his every word; and when, at the end of his recital, the King\'s Son asked her if she had ever heard of anyone so foolish before, she put her hands in his and said earnestly:—"Nay; with thee I\'d go, for thou hast grown so dear to me!"
For answer, the King\'s Son clasped the maiden in his arms in a tender embrace, telling her that she should indeed wander forth with him, since she was his love and he was hers; and after a long passionate kiss, the lovers remained silent for a while, too happy for words and lost to their surroundings.
Suddenly, however, a gust of wind blew off the goose-girl\'s wreath; and springing up in dismay, she ran after it. But the King\'s Son picked it up first, and thrusting it into the bosom of his tunic, declared he should keep it as a love token; and though his companion wept and entreated him to restore it to her, since it was precious in her sight as the symbol of her maidenhood, he refused to give it up.
Then, seeing that she still grieved for it, the King\'s Son unfastened a small bundle he had with him, and drawing from it a golden crown, he made as though he would place it upon her head in place of the one she had lost. But the goose-girl was afraid, and refused to allow him to place the crown on her head, declaring that she liked her own pretty flower wreath better, since she cared nothing for gold and jewels, but only wanted love and peacefulness; and the King\'s Son flung the golden crown into the grass, and putting his arms around the maiden, offered her his love once more and the protection of his good sword, if she would go forth with him.
The goose-girl said that his love was the only thing she valued, and that she would now gladly go with him; and, hand in hand, the happy pair ran to the edge of the wood. There, another strong gust of wind nearly took their breath away, and the straying geese came flocking around the goose-girl, who now stood stock-still and terrified, as she remembered the witch\'s parting words; and when the King\'s Son impatiently asked her what was wrong, she cried out wildly that she dared not leave the place, since a magic spell had been cast over the bushes and that they were holding her back.
The King\'s Son, not understanding her terror, but thinking that she cared more for her geese than for his love, was offended and declared that he would leave her if this was the case; and when the goose-girl, once more failing to free herself from the spell of magic she felt was cast around her, and fearful of the consequences of her disobedience to the witch, sank sobbing to the ground, the royal youth, beside himself with wrath and disappointment, poured forth angry reproaches upon the poor girl, declaring that a beggar-maid such as she was not fit to mate with kings, and that she would never behold him again unless a miracle should happen—until a star of light should fall from the heavens above into the opened heart of her closed lily-bud.
With these words the King\'s Son rushed away into the depths of the forest, and was quickly lost to sight; and the goose-girl, overcome with despair, flung herself face downwards on the grass, weeping and wailing because she had not been born a kingly child and the equal of her royal lover, whom she believed would not then have deserted her, forgetting that, if she had but conquered her fears, she would not have lost him.
She was quickly roused from her grief, however, by hearing the approaching steps of the witch; and hastily picking up the golden crown which still lay in the grass beside her, she slipped it over the head of her favourite goose and drove the bird behind a neighbouring bush just as the old dame appeared.
The witch, nevertheless, quickly guessed that a stranger had been with the girl, whom she forced to tell her the whole story of the visit of the King\'s Son; and then, hearing approaching sounds of music played upon a fiddle, together with men\'s voices, she cuffed the weeping maiden and bundled her into the hut, slamming the door just as three more strangers issued forth from the wood.
These were a fiddler, a woodcutter, and a broom-maker, who had all come thither to consult the witch, having been sent with an important message to her from the councillors and inhabitants of the town of Hellabrunn; but the two latter were a couple of cowards—though they had boasted of their great courage before setting out—and now that they had at last reached their goal, they trembled with fright, and would gladly have returned without delivering their message, in spite of the reward they had been promised.
The fiddler, however, was a seer, or wise man, who, having a brave and pure heart, had no fear of evil influences; and boldly marching up to the hut, he knocked long and loudly at the door, which was instantly opened by the witch, who angrily bade the three strangers begone if they valued their lives.
The woodcutter and the broom-maker shivered in their shoes on hearing these words, being mortally afraid of the dealer in magic; but the fiddler, after merrily paying a number of flowery compliments to the old hag, whose sour visage he pretended to admire, bade the quaking pair state their business.
In fear and trembling, the two cowards began to mumble out their message; but the fiddler soon pushed them to one side and told the tale himself. He stated that the good people of Hellabrunn had recently lost their beloved old King, who had died without leaving an heir to succeed him; and since they longed for a new and glorious ruler to place upon the empty throne, the present ambassadors had been sent to the wise witch-woman to ask if, by means of her magic, she could tell them where they could quickest find the ruler they sought, who might be either a prince or a princess, but who must be of royal birth and of the kingly kind.
Even as he spoke, the fiddler caught sight of the little goose-girl peeping out of the window; and recognising at once by her noble air that she must be of royal birth, he was filled with joy, and knew that here he should find a queen, at least.
He said nothing of what he had seen, however, but made a sign to the maiden to keep in hiding for the moment; and in reply to the petition, the old witch, eager to be rid of her unwelcome visitor, and remembering that the King\'s Son had departed towards the town, told the ambassadors that they might ring the joy-bells in Hellabrunn next day, since he who was of royal birth and worthy to be their King, even though he might come without pomp and poorly clad, would be the first person to enter their town at noon on the morrow—adding, moreover, that the townsfolk were all fools, and through their own stupidity would as likely as not lose the good King they sought; with which parting shaft, she retired into the hut and slammed the door once more.
The broom-maker and the woodcutter chuckled as they realised that by bringing this good news, they would certainly gain the fine reward which had been offered by the councillors and greybeards of the town; and the fiddler, disgusted with their mercenary natures, drove them away from the plac............