The Tyrolian Giants of Albach

In a wild mountain valley in which only savage animals and reptiles

were to be found, and in which vast expanses of moss covered the swamps

so treacherously that even bears and wolves had been engulfed in them,

a huge giant arrived one day, looked at the surrounding country, and

chose it for his abode. He dug himself a cave, built drains through

which he sent off the superfluous water into the lower valleys; and as,

after having chopped down enormous expanses of forest, he found that

it had become quite to his taste, he set off in search of a wife. He

neither wished for a fairy nor a moonlight maid, and for that reason he

went upon the peaks of the mountains, from which he soon returned with

a giantess who was as strong and savage as himself, and who assisted

him dauntlessly in all his abominable works.

In three years they were obliged to considerably enlarge their

habitation, as their three young giant sons began to grow up; and when

these became strong enough, they helped their father to build a new

house. The old giant felled the trees on the Alp Mareit, which stands

about six miles from his former abode, and his sons dragged the trunks

to the building-spot. They were not then very strong, and could only

drag one tree each at a time, which, however, was no less than eight

feet in diameter. Only the youngest of the giant’s sons, whose name was

Bartl, sometimes dragged two at once, at which his father smiled with

contentment.

To make his new residence like that of a civilized family, the giant

caught a few “flies,” as he called them, which were men and clever

carpenters, who were compelled to hew and shape the wood, in which work

the giant’s sons helped in turning the trees, as it would have been

impossible for the carpenters to do it themselves.

People call the swamp which the giant has drained the Rossmoos, and

to the giants they gave the name of the Rossmooser Riesen (Rossmoos

giants), while the new house received that of the Rossmooser Hof

(Rossmoos farm), which still stands upon the peak of Albach opposite

Stolzenberg.

After the building had been finished a few years, the old giant

father felt the approach of age in the gradual loss of his strength;

therefore he began to think of making over his property to one of his

sons. But he did not know to which of them to give it, as all three

were equally dear to him, and at that time the laws of birthright were

not yet introduced into the giant-race, no more than the institution

which exists in other places, and according to which the youngest son

receives the house, and pays to his other brothers their share in ready

money. Therefore in his perplexity he talked it over with his wife, who

advised him thus, “Give it to the strongest of them, and then you have

done.”

This idea pleased the giant very much, and that day at dinner he said

to his sons, “Boys, I am old, and one of you shall have the house;

but each of you is as dear to me as the other, and so I think you must

decide it by throwing a stone, and the one who proves himself the

strongest shall have the house.”

This proposition was very acceptable to the giant’s sons; and after the

dinner was finished, the old fellow took a stone of 650 pounds into

which was fastened an iron ring weighing 50 pounds, and carried it

fifteen paces from the Hof, which fifteen paces made just one mile, as

the giant with one step covered as much ground as would take a human

being five minutes to walk. Now they proceeded to the trial according

to the ancient rules of throwing stones, as it was invented centuries

ago by the giants themselves. He who had to throw stood with the left

leg firmly planted on the ground, while with the right foot, which was

passed through the iron ring of the stone, he swung it against the

mark, which in this case was the giant’s Hof, and the stone was to

alight on the other side of the house.

The eldest son commenced; he took up the stone and flung it, but it

didn’t even reach the mark, and fell far short into a fence, which it

smashed to pieces. The second son then fetched the stone and tried his

chance with more success, for he touched the house and knocked in the

front wall.

“You stupid asses!” shouted the old man, “is that the best you can do?”

Now came the turn of the youngest, who did even better; for he threw

the stone so vigorously and high that it fell on the top of the roof,

through which it crashed like a bomb-shell and destroyed everything in

the house.

“Oh, my Bartl!” sneered the angry old giant, “you are a clever fellow.

You have gained the house, but now you will be obliged to repair it.”

And then he began to rave, “You sacrischen Sauschwänz, that you are.

Now look at me, poor weak old thing, how I will beat you. Run, dear

wife, and bring me back the stone.”

His wife ran and brought him the stone on the little finger of her

left hand, which just passed through the ring, and the old giant set

himself in attitude according to the rules of the game. He hurled the

stone with such tremendous force that it fell far on the other side of

the Rossmooser Hof; and seeing this the three young giants slunk off

quite ashamed of themselves. The old giant sighed as he said, “There is

really no strength left among the young folk. At one time one had no

cause to be ashamed of himself. I remember still how I carried a stone

weighing a hundred centner (10,000 pounds) from the Kolbenthalmelch

place to the Kolbenthal saw-mill, where it is still lying; you can go

and look at it there, you Fratz’n.”

At the same time as these giants were living at the Rossmooser Hof,

there resided a couple of other giants upon the Dornerberg in the

Zillerthal, who always cast angry looks at young Bartl, and challenged

him very often to fight. Bartl avoided them as much as he could, and

showed no inclination to measure his strength with them, for he had

not a quarrelsome nature. One day the giants of Dornerberg met the

Rossmooser Riesen with Bartl, at whom they sneered, and mockingly

challenged him again to fight with them, but as Bartl was undecided and

would not answer, the old giant became angry with his son and said,

“You are then no bub (boy) at all, that you suffer all this.”

“Should I fight them?” asked Bartl, and as his father nodded his head

he added, “But, father, it’s not worth my while to fight one alone, so

I shall fight them both at once.”

The fight then began, and Bartl instantly seized upon the two

Dornerberg giants by the collar, held them up, beating the air with

their hands and feet, until their eyes streamed with water; he then

dashed them on the ground where they lay stunned, and it was only with

the greatest trouble that they were restored to life. When they came to

their senses, they stole away from the scene of the fight quite ashamed

of themselves, and made up their minds never again to have anything to

do with Bartl, whose fame, after this tremendous victory, spread far

and near through the country; for the Dornerberg giants were in no way

weak, since each of them carried seven to eight centners (600 to 700

pounds) from Zell, in the Zillerthal, up the Dornerberg, where they

lived in a deep cavern. With this huge weight they sprang lightly from

stone to stone in the river which runs through the valley, and even

stooped down and caught the trout in their hands as they passed over.