Prevod

Once upon a time there was an old widow who lived far from the village, high up beneath a ridge, with her three daughters. She was so poor that she owned nothing but a hen, and she cherished it as the apple of her eye; she clucked to it and tended it early and late. But one day, all of a sudden, the hen vanished. The woman went out and searched all round the cottage, calling and coaxing, but the hen was gone and stayed gone. “You must go out and look for our hen,” the woman said to her eldest daughter. “We must have her back, even if we have to fetch her out of the mountain.” So the daughter went out to look for her; she wandered here and there, searching and calling, but there was no hen to be found. Then she heard a voice from a rock face:

“The hen is tripping about in the mountain! The hen is tripping about in the mountain!” She went over to see what it was, but beside the rock face she fell through a trapdoor, deep, deep down into a vault beneath the ground. Down there she passed through many rooms, each finer than the last, but in the innermost room a great ugly mountain troll came towards her. “Will you be my sweetheart?” he asked. No, she said, she certainly would not; she wanted to go straight back up and look for her hen, which had gone missing.

Then the troll grew so angry that he seized her, twisted off her head, and threw both head and body down into the cellar. Her mother sat at home waiting and waiting, but no daughter came back. She waited a good while longer, but when she neither saw nor heard anything of her, she told the middle daughter to go out and look for her sister;

“and you can call the hen at the same time,” she said. So the second sister went out, and exactly the same thing happened to her. She wandered about searching and calling, and all at once she too heard a voice from the rock face:

“The hen is tripping about in the mountain! The hen is tripping about in the mountain!” She thought this very strange, and went over to see what it was; then she too fell through the trapdoor, deep, deep down into the vault. She passed through all the rooms, but in the innermost one the troll came towards her and asked whether she would be his sweetheart. No, she certainly would not; she wanted to go straight back up and look for the hen that had gone missing. But then the troll grew angry; he seized her, twisted off her head, and threw both head and body down into the cellar.

When the woman had sat waiting for her second daughter for seven long ages and seven broad ones, with neither sight nor sound of her, she said to the youngest, “Now you really must be off and look for your sisters. It was bad enough to lose the hen, but it would be worse still if we never found your sisters again; and you can always call the hen at the same time.” So the youngest went out; she wandered here and there, searching and calling, but she saw neither the hen nor her sisters. At long last she too came towards the rock face, and heard a voice say:

“The hen is tripping about in the mountain! The hen is tripping about in the mountain!” She thought this curious, and went over to see; then she too fell through the trapdoor, deep, deep down into the vault.

Down there she passed through one room after another, each finer than the last; but she was not so easily frightened. She took her time and looked at everything, and so she also caught sight of the cellar hatch. She peered down through it and at once recognized her sisters, who lay dead below. She had only just closed the hatch again when the troll came towards her.

“Will you be my sweetheart?” asked the troll. “Yes, gladly,” said the girl, for she could well understand what had happened to her sisters. When the troll heard this, he gave her fine, fine clothes, the loveliest she could wish for, and anything else she wanted, so happy was he that someone would be his sweetheart.

But when she had been there some time, a day came when she was even more downcast and sorrowful than usual. The troll asked her what she was so sad about. “Oh,” said the girl, “it is because I cannot go home to my mother;

she must be hungry and thirsty, and there is no one with her.” “Well, I cannot let you go to her,” answered the troll, “but put some food in a sack, and I will carry it to her.” She thanked him and said she would do that; but in the bottom of the sack she packed a great deal of gold and silver, then laid a little food on top. She told the troll that the sack was ready, but he must on no account look inside it, and he promised not to. When the troll set off, she watched him through a little hole in the trapdoor. When he had gone some way, he said, “This sack is so heavy, I think I shall see what is in it,” and was about to undo the cord; but then the girl called, “I can see you! I can see you!” “The devil take those eyes of yours!” said the troll, and he dared not try it again. When he reached the widow’s cottage, he threw the sack in through the door. “Here is food from your daughter; she wants for nothing,” he said.

When the girl had been in the mountain another good while, a billy goat fell through the trapdoor one day. “Who sent for you, you shaggy brute?” said the troll, in a terrible rage. Then he seized the goat, twisted off its head, and threw it down into the cellar.

“Oh no, why did you do that?” said the girl. “I could have had it to amuse me down here.” “There is no need to put on such a long face,” said the troll. “I can soon bring the billy goat back to life.” With that he took a jar that hung on the wall, set the goat’s head back on its body, and smeared it with some of what was in the jar; then it was as good as ever. Aha! thought the girl. That jar is worth something!

When she had been with the troll another good while, she chose a day when he was away, took the eldest of her sisters, set her head back on her body, and smeared her with some of what was in the jar, just as she had seen the troll do with the billy goat;

and at once her sister came back to life. The girl packed her into a sack, laid a little food on top, and as soon as the troll came home she said to him, “My dear, you must go home to my mother with a little food again. She must be hungry and thirsty, poor thing, and she is all alone too;

but do not look in the sack!” Yes, he said, he would take the sack, and he would not look inside it either. But when he had gone some way, he thought the sack was growing terribly heavy, and when he had walked a little farther, he said he would have a look at what was inside. “Whatever sort of eyes she has, she cannot see me now,” he said to himself. But just as he was about to undo the cord, the sister sitting inside the sack said, “I can see you! I can see you!” “The devil take those eyes of yours!” said the troll, for he thought it was the girl in the mountain speaking. He dared not try to look inside again, but carried the sack straight to the mother as fast as he could, and when he reached the cottage door, he threw it inside. “Here is food from your daughter; she wants for nothing!” he said.

When the girl had been in the mountain another good while, she did the same with her other sister: she set her head back on her body, smeared her with some of what was in the jar, and packed her into the sack. This time, though, she put as much gold and silver on top of her as the sack would hold, and a little food at the very top. “My dear,” she said to the troll, “you must go home to my mother with a little food again; but do not look in the sack!” Yes, the troll was quite willing to oblige her, and he promised not to look in the sack. But when he had gone some way, he thought the sack was terribly heavy;

and when he had walked a little farther, he could carry it no longer. He had to put it down and rest. He was about to undo the cord and look inside when the sister in the sack called, “I can see you! I can see you!” “The devil take those eyes of yours!” said the troll, and after that he dared not look in the sack again, but hurried as fast as he could and carried it straight to the mother.

When he reached the cottage door, he threw it inside. “Here is food from your daughter; she wants for nothing!” he said. After the girl had been there another good while, the troll was going out one day, and she pretended to be poorly and ill, moaning and making a great fuss. “There is no use coming home before twelve o’clock,” she said, “for I cannot have the food ready before then; I am so poorly and ill.” As soon as the troll had gone, she stuffed her clothes with straw and set this straw girl in the corner by the hearth with a stirring stick in her hand, so that it looked as though she herself were standing there. Then she slipped away home, and got a marksman to stay in the cottage with her mother.

At twelve o’clock, or a little after, the troll came home. “Give me something to eat!” he said to the straw girl. No, she did not answer. “Give me something to eat, I say!” the troll said again, “for I am hungry!” No, she did not answer.

“Give me something to eat!” screamed the troll for the third time. “And I advise you to heed what I say, or I shall find a way to wake you up!” No, the girl stood quite still. Then he flew into such a rage that he kicked her, sending bits of straw flying against the ceiling and the walls. But when he saw this, he knew something was wrong and began searching everywhere. At last he went down into the cellar too; both the girl’s sisters were gone, and he understood at once what had happened. “She shall pay for this!” he said, and set off for the mother’s cottage. But when he reached it, the marksman fired, and the troll dared not go in, for he thought it was thunder. He raced home again as fast as he could, but just as he reached the trapdoor, the sun rose, and he burst. There must still be plenty of gold and silver there, if only one knew where the trapdoor was!