A Tyrolian Forester’s Legend

One day a poor woman of Lengenfeld, in the Oetz valley in the Tyrol,

went up the mountains to meet her husband, who was guarding a flock of

goats there. On her way she passed by a chapel into which she entered,

and while she was praying a Lämmer vulture swooped down and carried off

in his claws her little son, who was amusing himself outside on the

moss. But Heaven ordained that the vulture should settle with his prey

on a peak which was quite close to the goat-herd, who frightened him

off with stones, and so, without knowing it, he became the preserver of

his own child, whom he had not seen since the spring. Now it happened

that three good fairies who resided in the neighbourhood of the

Oetz-Thal, beneath an enormous mountain peak called the Morin, had been

invisibly active in the saving of the goat-herd’s boy.

The boy grew up and always bore in his mind an attraction to the

highest peaks of the mountains; he became a hardy Alpine climber and

clever mountain shot, and as such a secret impulse ever pushed him

to the heights above Morin, for there--so said the legend--was the

Paradise of animals; there were herds of gazelles and stone-bucks, and

no huntsman had ever succeeded in approaching them. But the fool-hardy

boy wished to try his luck, and commenced his wanderings, which ended

by his getting lost, and being in danger of his life. One day he didn’t

know where he was, and from the ice-covered peak which reaches into the

clouds over ten thousand feet high, he slipped down upon a green Alp

which he had been unable to see from above, and in that fall he lost

his senses.

As he came again to himself he was lying on a beautiful bed in the

crystal cave of the three fairies, who had saved him for the second

time. They stood round him shining with heavenly benevolence, and love,

and their look awakened in him the sweetest sensations. He remained now

a well-cared-for guest of the fairies, was allowed to look at their

beautiful abode, their gardens, and their pets; he was told that his

amiable hostesses were the protecting genii of all Alpine animals, and

they made him promise never to kill or to hurt one of those innocent

creatures,--no gazelle, no Alpine hare, no snow-hen, not even a weasel.

He was allowed to remain with them three days, and had permission to

worship and adore them. But then he was obliged to promise three things

faithfully and on his soul’s salvation, if ever he wanted to return to

them, or, in case he never cared to do so, if ever he wished to live

happily down in the valley. Firstly, he was bound to observe a silence

as deep as the grave that he had ever seen the three fairies or been in

their presence; secondly, they made him swear the promise which he had

already given, never to do any harm to any Alpine animal; and thirdly,

never to let human eye see the way which they were going to show him,

and through which he might be the more easily able to return to their

abode. A fourth promise they left to his honour, without binding him

down by oath or vow, and that was to preserve the love which he had

shown to them, and never to have anything to do in any way with any

other girl. Then, after a tender parting, the son of the Alps was

taken into a steep mountain gully which led down to the valley of the

rushing Achen, which tears along under bowers of Alpine rose-bushes.

After these injunctions, the fairies told him that on every full-moon

night he was allowed to pay them a visit of three days’ duration, and

that he had only to enter through that gully, and give below a certain

sign with which they acquainted him.

The boy returned home completely altered; it seemed as though he was

dreaming, and soon enough from every one he gained the name of the

‘dreamer;’ for henceforth he never took an Alpine stock in his hand,

never went hunting, and never to a village dance, but every full-moon

night he stole quietly to the chasm in the rock, deep beneath the

Morin, entered into the interior of the mountain, and was for three

days happy with the fairies, to whose wondrous songs he listened

entranced. At home his form shrank, he became pale and emaciated, and

it was in vain that his parents and friends pressed him to tell what

was the matter with him. “Nothing at all,” he always answered to these

questions; “I am as happy as I can be.”

As his father and mother had become aware of his secret strolls on

the full-moon nights, they followed him once quietly, and close at the

entrance of the chasm his ear was struck by his mother’s voice, who

called his name, and at the same moment the rocks shut together before

his eyes, and the mountains crashed down with the noise of thunder, so

that rocks fell down upon rocks. The poor boy’s happiness was gone for

ever. Troubled and abstracted, he returned to his native village; he

cared neither for his mother’s tears nor his father’s reproaches, and

remained apathetic and indifferent to everything; and so he faded away

until autumn arrived, until the herds were driven down into the winter

stables of the village, and the beautiful summer life of the mountain

world died and was covered with snow.

Then one day two friends of the goat-herd arrived, and talked of a

hunting excursion which they intended to make on the top of the Morin;

and then for the first time again the eyes of the pale young Alpine

hunter became bright, the irresistible love of hunting awakened again

in him,--perhaps, too, there was some greater attraction. He longed to

penetrate once more into the dominion of the fairies be it even at the

risk of his life. As to life, he no longer valued it, and death was a

liberation.

The infatuated youth prepared his hunting things, borrowed an Alpine

stock, for his own had been left behind broken in his fall from the

peak of the Morin, and then he joined the hunting excursion which

started in early morning. First he walked with them, then he hurried

before higher and higher, as though he was attracted by the most

irresistible power. His heart grew light as he ascended, for too long

the heavy air of the narrow valley had oppressed him. He climbed as

quickly as though he had eaten arsenic, that fearful poison which

many an Alpine climber takes in the smallest quantities to make

himself lighter, and at last he caught sight of a sentry gazelle,

which whistled and disappeared behind the peak upon which it had been

standing. The young Alpine hunter climbed to the top of the peak, from

whence he saw down below him a little green spot, upon which were

browsing, though far beyond his reach, a large herd of gazelles. Only

one of them came within range, and this one he pursued pitilessly,

until the poor animal in her anxiety and terror was unable to proceed

further, and stopped on the edge of a precipice, which the huntsman

in his excitement had never noticed. He levelled his rifle--the

plaintive cry of a female voice resounded in his ears, but he paid no

heed to it,--he took deadly aim and fired. Lo! at that moment he was

surrounded by a halo of brightness, and in the midst of that brilliant

light stood the gazelle unhurt, and before her floated the three

fairies in dazzling splendour, but with severe and angry countenances.

They approached him, but on seeing their faces without one smile or

look of love upon them, the boy was seized with a deep horror. He

staggered,--one step more, and backwards he fell down the precipice a

thousand feet deep; and from the edge, where in falling his feet had

stood, pieces of stone rolled down, and a tremendous wall of rock tore

down after him with a fearful roar, and buried him for ever beneath its

_débris_.

There still stands the rock, which is pointed out, even to this day as

‘The Huntsman’s Grave.’