"On they went! On, on, without stopping. Over the plains, up and down the hillsides, through the villages. The sun set and darkness fell upon the world, but there was never a moment's rest for the maiden on the white horse or the giant lover on his black steed.

"Sometimes in the darkness sparks were struck off from the horses'

hoofs as they pa.s.sed over rough and rocky places. These sparks always showed the princess ahead and slowly increasing the distance between herself and her pursuer.

"When the morning light first appeared, the maiden could see the summit of the Brocken ahead of her. It was the home of her lover.

Her heart leaped within her. If she could only reach it she would be safe.

"But alas! her horse suddenly stood still. He would not move. He had reached the edge of a precipice. There it lay, separating the princess from love and safety.

"The brave girl had not a moment to lose. The giant was fast drawing near. She wheeled her horse around; then, striking his sides a sharp blow with her whip, she urged him to leap across the precipice.

"The spring must be strong and sure. It was a matter of life and death. The chasm was deep. If the horse should fail to strike the other side securely, it meant a horrible end to beast and rider.

"But he did not fail. The feet of the brave steed came firmly down upon the rocky platform. So heavily did they fall that the imprint of a hoof was left upon the rock.

"The princess was now safe. It would be an easy matter for her to reach her lover's side.

"As for the giant, he tried to follow Brunhilda across the chasm.

But he was too heavy and his horse failed to reach the mark. The two sank together to the bottom of the precipice."

Every one thanked the story-teller, and begged him to tell more of the Hartz Mountains, where he had spent his boyhood days. The children were delighted when he spoke of the gnomes, in whom he believed when he was a child.

"Every time I went out in the dark woods," he said, "I was on the lookout for these funny little fairies of the underground world. I wanted to see them, but at the same time I was afraid I should meet them.

"I remember one time that my mother sent me on an errand through the woods at twilight. I was in the thickest part of the woods, when I heard a sound that sent a shiver down my back.

"'It is a witch, or some other dreadful being,' I said to myself.

'Nothing else could make a sound like that.' My teeth chattered. My legs shook so, I could hardly move. Somehow or other, I managed to keep on. It seemed as though hours pa.s.sed before I saw the lights of the village. Yet I suppose it was not more than fifteen minutes.

"When I was once more safe inside my own home, I told my father and mother about my fright.

"'It was no witch, my child,' said my father. 'The sound you describe was probably the cry of a wildcat. I thank Heaven that you are safe. A wildcat is not a very pleasant creature to meet in a lonely place.'

"After that, I was never sent away from the village after dark.

"My boy friends and I often came across badgers and deer, and sometimes foxes made their way into the village in search of poultry, but I never came nearer to meeting a wildcat than the time of which I have just told you."

"What work did you do out of school hours?" asked Hans. The boy was thinking of the toys he had to carve.

"My mother raised canary-birds, and I used to help her a great deal.

Nearly every woman in the village was busy at the same work. What concerts we did have in those days! Mother tended every young bird she raised with the greatest care. Would it become a good singer and bring a fair price? We waited anxiously for the first notes, and then watched to see how the voices gained in strength and sweetness.

"It was a pleasant life, and I was very happy among the birds in our little village. Would you like to hear a song I used to sing at that time? It is all about the birds and bees and flowers."

"Do sing it for us," cried every one.

Herr Abel had a good voice and they listened with pleasure to his song. This is the first stanza:

"I have been on the mountain That the song-birds love best.

They were sitting, were flitting, They were building their nest.

They were sitting, were flitting, They were building their nest."

After he had finished, he told about the mines in which some of his friends worked. It was a hard life, with no bright sunlight to cheer the men in those deep, dark caverns underground.

"Of course you all know that the deepest mine in the world is in the Hartz Mountains."

His friends nodded their heads, while Hans whispered to Bertha, "I should like to go down in that mine just for the sake of saying I have been as far into the earth as any living person."

"The sun is setting, and there is a chill in the air," said Bertha's father. "Let us go home."

CHAPTER VIII.

WHAT THE WAVES BRING

Bertha's mother had just come in from a hard morning's work in the fields. She had been helping her husband weed the garden.

She spent a great deal of time outdoors in the summer-time, as many German peasant women do. They do a large share of the work in ploughing the grain-fields and harvesting the crops. They are much stronger than their American cousins.

"Supper is all ready and waiting for you," said Bertha.

The little girl had prepared a dish of sweet fruit soup which her mother had taught her to make.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Bertha's Home.]

"It is very good," said her father when he had tasted it. "My little Bertha is getting to be quite a housekeeper."

"Indeed, it is very good," said her mother. "You learned your lesson well, my child."

Bertha was quite abashed by so much praise. She looked down upon her plate and did not lift her eyes again till Gretchen began to tell of a new amber bracelet which had just been given to one of the neighbours.

"It is beautiful," said Gretchen, quite excitedly. "The beads are such a clear, lovely yellow. They look so pretty on Frau Braun's neck, I don't wonder she is greatly pleased with her present."

"Who sent it to her?" asked her mother.

"Her brother in Cologne. He is doing well at his trade, and so he bought this necklace at a fair and sent it to his sister as a remembrance. He wrote her a letter all about the sights in Cologne, and asked Frau Braun to come and visit him and his wife.

"He promised her in the letter that if she would come, he would take her to see the grand Cologne cathedral. He said thousands of strangers visit it every year, because every one knows it is one of the most beautiful buildings in all Europe.

"Then he said she should also see the Church of Saint Ursula, where the bones of the eleven thousand maidens can still be seen in their gla.s.s cases."

"Do you know the story of St. Ursula, Gretchen?" asked her father.

"Yes, indeed, sir. Ursula was the daughter of an English king. She was about to be married, but she said that before the wedding she would go to Rome on a pilgrimage.

"Eleven thousand young girls went with the princess. On her way home she was married, but when the wedding party had got as far as Cologne, they were attacked by the savage Huns. Every one was killed,--Ursula, her husband, and the eleven thousand maidens. The church was afterward built in her memory. Ursula was made a saint by the Pope, and the bones of the young girls were preserved in gla.s.s cases in the church."