THE MARSH KING'S DAUGHTER [12]
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
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