IN Norland they tell the following story about the first church that was built in Norway. St. Olaf, King of Norway, went about one day in deep thought, and wondered how he, without laying too heavy burdens upon his people, could erect a church, which he wished to build so large that its equal would be hard to find. As he went and thought over this, he met a man of superhuman size, who asked him what he was puzzling over. "Well may I be puzzled," said the King, "since I have made a vow to build a church, which for size and beauty will not have its equal in the world." The troll offered within a given time to erect such a building, if King Olaf in return, when the work was finished, would give him as payment "the sun and the moon, or St. Olaf himself." The King accepted this offer, but made the plan of the building so large that he thought it would be impossible for the troll to finish it within the appointed time. It was to be so large that seven priests could preach in it at once, without the one hearing or being disturbed by the other. The pillars and ornaments, outside and inside, were to be made of the hardest flint-stone, and several other difficult conditions were imposed; but in far shorter time than was agreed on, King Olaf saw the church finished, all except the spire. Things being in this condition, King Olaf went in deep distress over hill and dale, and thought of the compact he had made. Then in the mountain he heard a child crying, and a giantess comforting it with the following ditty:

The King became glad then, for trolls lose their power when a Christian man can name them by name. When he got back, he saw the troll standing on the top of the tower, putting on the spire. Then St. Olaf cried, "Wind-and-Weather, you have set the spire on crooked." Whereupon the troll fell down with a terrible crash, and was shivered in pieces, which were all flint stones. Other accounts say that the giant's name was "Slat," and that St. Olaf cried "Slat, set the spire straight."

THE holy St. Lawrence went about one day over hill and dale, and pondered how he could erect a great and worthy temple to the honour of the Lord. There came a giant out of a hill, and promised to fulfil his wish, but demanded as payment "Sun and moon, and both St. Lawrence's eyes." The time allowed him was so short, that it seemed impossible for him to accomplish the work; but the holy man soon saw that the building was nearing its completion only too rapidly, and that the day was drawing near u, which the troll would cuinc and take his wages. Again he wandered about on hills and in woods in great distress, but suddenly he heard a child crying in the inside of a hill, and its mother singing to it —

Then St. Lawrence knew the giant's name and had power over him. When the trolls got to know this, they both went down into the vaults, and each laid hold of a pillar, with the intention of overthrowing the whole church; but St. Lawrence, making the sign of the cross, cried out, "Stand here in stone till Doomsday." They were immediately transformed into stone, and stand there still, the giant embracing one pillar and the giantess the other, with the child on her arm.

IN old days, when King Olaf went from place to place to introduce the Christian faith, and to build churches in place of the heathen temples, he met with much opposition and many hindrances, not only from his obstinate heathen subjects but also from the many trolls, giants, and giantesses, who were then to be found in great numbers in the mountains. The trolls could not bear St. Olaf, partly because he caused them hurt by using the sign of the cross, and partly because he built many churches, the sound of whose bells disturbed their peace; but although they often exerted themselves to the utmost they could do nothing against the holy king, who straightway turned them into stone. Trolls thus transformed by St. Olaf may still be seen all over the country.

One time, when Olaf was going down by the northern Krogklev (the road then kept more to the north than now) a Grím giantess suddenly sprang out of the steep cliff. She had a large trough on her back, and cried —

But St. Olaf looked at her, and answered —

The giantess may still be seen there turned into stone.

When St Olaf came to the farm of Sten, where his mother is said to have lived, he resolved to build a church there. A giantess, who at that time lived in the mountain, which has since been called after her, "Gyrihaugen" (the giantess's cairn), was not at all satisfied with this plan. Although she might have learned from the foregoing instance that St. Olaf was not to be played with, she resolved to try her strength, and challenged him to a contest. "Before you are finished with your church," said she, "I shall have built a stone bridge over Stensfirth." Olaf accepted the challenge, and before she was half finished with the bridge, the glorious peal of the bells was heard from St. Olaf's Church. In a rage the troll seized the stones with which she had intended to complete the bridge, and hurled them from Gyrihaugen over the firth at the church, but as none of them struck it, she became so angry that she cut off one of her legs and let that fly at the steeple. Some say that it took the steeple with it, others that she aimed too high. Be that as it may, the leg landed in a bog behind the church, where to this day it causes a bad smell. The bog is still called by the peasants "The Giantess's Pit," and the stones she threw at the church were shown recently on the neighbouring farm of Moe. The bridge begun by her is now completed, and on the farm of Sten there long stood the fine ruins of St. Olaf's Church. In old days divine service was held here on St. John's Day, but about one hundred and fifty years ago the church was burned down by lightning.

IN a narrow dale, shut in by steep mountain walls, in Sigdal, there stands the little old Love-Church (Lovekirke), where divine service is held only once a year, on the Sunday after St. John's Day. A crowd of people from the neighbouring districts assemble here on this occasion, and the sick make offerings in an old offertory plate, to regain their health. On the church door the devil is painted with horns and claws. The church is called Vattn-aas (Water-ridge), and according to tradition owes its origin to St. Olaf. As he marched through the land to introduce the Christian faith, he came also to Sigdal, and after he had succeeded in converting the inhabitants, he went out to hunt with some of his followers. During the chase the king and his men lost themselves, so that they neither knew the way back nor forward. Tired and thirsty, he finally came into a narrow dale where he dismounted from his horse, and made the vow that if he found water there, he would have a church built on that spot. Scarcely was this said, when a fountain sprang out of the hard rock. The king and his men, who were nearly fainting with thirst, rejoiced and drank to their hearts' content. King Olaf renewed his vow, and was about to turn his horse to ride away, when he caught sight of a bull close at hand. He had already bent his bow, when lo, his eye fell on a little church of pure gold. After this model the king commanded that a church should be built on that very spot, and called Vattn-aas Kirk. In the mountains beside the spring may still be seen the footprints of King Olaf's horse.

ON his journeys about the country to introduce the Christian faith, St. Olaf came through Solder-dale to a farm which lies on the eastern bank of the Glommen, and which, together with the church and parish, is said to have got the name of Vaaler after the following fashion. On this farm St. Olaf held an assembly, and after some resistance it was decided that the God which the King worshipped should also be the people's, and that the religion of Odin should give way to that of Christ. It was also decided, on the King's proposal, that a church should be built here, as in other places where the new doctrine had been accepted; but there arose a great dispute as to the place where it should be erected. Then, says the story, St. Olaf bent his bow, shot an arrow, and declared that the church should be built where it fell. The King was standing beside the spring which still bears his name, and the arrow fell in a heap of wood (vaal) lying near the Glommen, where a wooden church was built, and along with the farm and parish was called Vaaler by St. Olaf. This church, to which sick and dying persons used to offer gifts, stood until 1805, when a new church was built, in whose ornament chest is found a wrought iron buckle, which is called St. Olaf's buckle, and is said to have been deposited in the old church by the King himself. It had formed part of the halter by which the King's horse was tied up.

The King is said to have watered the same horse in the spring, clear as crystal, which bears his name, and never dries up in summer or freezes in winter. A miraculous power was formerly attributed to it — sick persons threw money into it to regain their health; and it is believed that great misfortune awaits the man who dares to lay hands on these sacred deposits. A few years back it was the custom that the church-goers on all great occasions vied with each other in reaching the spring first, and it was considered something to be proud of to be the first to water one's horse at St. Olaf's Well.

A POOR herd-girl, from the farm of Mrsta in Varnum, betook herself one morning to the woods of Vermland with her cattle. As the day was rainy and cold, she took her tinder box with her, as the herds always do, so as to be able to kindle a fire and warm themselves. When she came near Jutebækken in the forest, a giantess happened to come along carrying a box, which she asked the girl to take charge of, while she went to invite some guests to her daughter's marriage, which was to be held in the mountain. The girl took the box and the bergwoman went on. By accident, the girl laid her fire-steel on the box, and when the bergwoman came back for it, she had no power to take it, for the trolls cannot bear steel. So the giantess hurried off, and the box became the girl's property. When she got home and looked to see what was in it, she found a gold crown as well as thick chains and rings of gold. Varnum Church was built with a fourth of the treasure, a fourth fell to the Crown, and the half became the girl's own.

AT Dover Church there is a "corpse-lamb," which goes about on three legs. When the church was being built, it was necessary to have a living creature buried beneath its foundations. The people there were so poor, that they could not procure anything but a lamb: in other places they had a pig, a horse, or a cow. The old church lay in Illerup, but had become so ruinous that it could hang together no longer, and a new one had to be built The people wished to place it in Sveistrup, which was nearer the centre of the parish, and contained the manse and school, but what they built there could never hang together, and they could get no church erected at that spot. They were at a loss what to do, till one day a wayfarer came past, while they were struggling away at the building, and said, "What is all this you are about, good people? I think your work looks a little shaky." "Oh," said they, "we want to build a church here, but we can't get it to stand; it always falls down with us." "Well," said he, "that is not the way to do. You must take two oxen, which have never been in harness, yoke them to a pair of wheels, and let them go after sunset" They did so, and the oxen went so far during the night that they came over to where Dover Church now lies; there was a large alder-marsh there at that time, in which they landed, and could get no further. So the church was placed in that spot.

IN Hojslev there is a farm called Brude-dal (Bride's Dale). Straight west from it lies a great mound, called Stejls-bjwrg, in which lived a bergman. The hole he came out at, and the path by which he went down to a dam at the eastern corner of the mound for water, are still pointed out, but the dam is now filled up. His wife also was often seen fetching water; she was a Christian woman from Hojslev. The church was to have been built a little to the north on a brae, called State-bakke, but it was always pulled down again. An old woman went out to see who did this, and met the bergman, who told her that they could not get the church built there, it was too near himself, but they could build it in another place, if they would promise him the first and last maiden bride that came to Hojslev Church. They did so, and now the bergman built as much during the night as the others did during the day. When the church was finished, and the first bride was driving home, the bergman came and carried her off. He could not touch her, however, so long as she wore her bridal ornaments, so he asked an old man to take these off, but he refused. Then he went to a little herd boy and bribed him to do it, after which he disappeared with the bride.

THE tower of Karup Church was in old days so high that it was famous far and near. It was lowered twice, by eighteen ells the first time, and eleven the second time, but even then it was as high as most church-towers are now-a-days. There was, however, a giant who determined to have it thrown down. He came from abroad, and was so big that the ship he sailed in was right down to the water-line. He required eighty ells of woollen cloth for a pair of trousers, and his wooden-shoes were made of large planks, fastened together by iron rivets. When he came to Torning and Skræ, where there are so many great boulders, he began to throw stones at the tower, but missed it every time owing to the distance. The first stone he threw split in his hands, and one part of it fell in the brook which runs by Karup Mill; in it are still to be seen the marks of his five fingers, and even the lines on these are quite distinct, for at that time the stones were only growing and were somewhat soft. The other piece fell to the south-east of Karup Mill. When he came past Skræ, and there were no more stones, he did not care to go back to fetch some, but preferred to pull down the tower with his hands. In this he succeeded, and pulled it down to a level with the church itself in one day's time. Since then Karup Church has lacked a tower.

GUDUM CHURCH near Slagelse lies very low in a meadow beside Gudum River, and its situation is very inconvenient for the congregation, being in a corner of the parish. Originally, it is said, it lay further up and nearer the town, but the Devil, for some reason or other, set to work to shift it. He succeeded in getting it up on his shoulders, but when he had gone a little way, he began to feel it very heavy. Fortunately, at that point he met a peasant, and asked him to give him a lift with it. The peasant could not make out what kind of person he had to deal with; he could see that the stranger had a heavy burden on his back, but there was like a mist before his eyes, so that he could not see what it was. He lent a hand, however, and helped the little that he could, but it soon became too heavy for both of them. They then came to a large stone, and the Devil proposed to sit down on this for a little to rest themselves, with the burden on their backs. The peasant began to have suspicions that something was wrong, so he looked under his left arm, and could then see that it was the Devil with the church he had beside him. At this he hurried off as fast as he could, and the load now pressed so heavily on the Devil that "his end sank into the stone." With great difficulty he managed to rise and drag the church down to the river; here he had to let it stand, for he could not get it across the stream. Between the church and the village they used to point out a large stone with a seat in it; it was here that the Devil rested himself with the church.

WHEN they were about to build the church of Hörup on the island of Als, they began at the bottom of the mound on which it now stands, but during the night the spirits came and destroyed all that was built during. the day. When the workmen were about to continue their work next morning, they heard a voice from the mound, which shouted "Higher up, higher up" (Höger up, höger up). The command was obeyed, they shifted to a little farther up, and began a second time; but next morning every thing was again destroyed, and again the voice shouted, "Higher up, higher up." Then they began to build on the very top of the knoll, and from that time the voice was silent, and the building was no more disturbed. On this account, the church and the village, which was built there later on, were called "Högerup," afterwards altered to "Hörup." It lies highest of all the villages in the island, so that it can be seen from almost every point.

THE church and parsonage in Seydis-firth lay in old times on the west (or south) side of the firth, but it is not known what name they bore. Close to them was a huge stone, in which people firmly believed that dwarfs lived, and on that account it was called "The Dwarfs' Stone" (Dverga-steinn). As time went on, it was found inconvenient to have the church and manse on that side of the firth, and both of them were shifted to the other side, where they now stand. The big stone, naturally, was left behind, but when the building of the church was nearly ended, the workmen were astounded to see a house come sailing across from the other side of the firth, and making straight for the church. This continued to approach until it touched the bottom, and took up its position on the beach. They then saw that it was the Dwarfs' Stone which had come there with its inhabitants. They could not content themselves after the church was shifted, and so made their way after it. For a lasting record of the piety of the dwarfs, the church and manse were called the Dwarfs' Stone.

WHEN the first churches were built, they were generally consecrated with the observance of various heathen customs which the people would not part with. One of these was to sacrifice some animal to the old gods beside the foundation-stone or outside the churchyard wall. These animals were buried alive, and it was believed that their spirit or ghost wandered about in the churchyard in the ghostly hours of the night; they were called "Kirkegrimer." Many places and churches have, according to tradition, got their names from these spectres, such as "Hestveda" town and church in Skaane, which is said formerly to have been called "Hest-hvita," because a white horse was "Kirkegrim" there. When such spectres are seen, they are warnings of important events, lucky or unlucky.

It is also related that, under the altar in the first Christian churches, there was buried a lamb to ensure the permanent existence of the church. This was called the "Church Lamb." When any one enters a church at a time when there is no service, it sometimes happens (so says the story) that they see a little lamb spring across the choir and disappear. When it appears to any one in the churchyard, especially to the grave-diggers, it is a warning that a little child is to die.

UP over the eastern arch in Ryslinge Church, lies the church lamb. In old days the clerk's servant-girl had to give it a bundle of clean straw for its bed on the evening before every church festival. As to the origin of the church lamb, there is a general belief among the people, that when they began to build churches in the country, it often happened that what was built during the day was torn down during the night. Then they buried a living lamb under the building, and after that no one could lay a hand upon their work. The buried lamb then became the "Church Lamb."

An old woman in Ryslinge (Ann Katherine) once saw the church lamb in her young days. She had been sitting up watching a sick woman, and as she was going home, about twelve o'clock at night, she met a solitary lamb on the road, but whether it had only three legs, as a church lamb ought to have, she could not clearly see. When she came home to her parents, she said that she had seen the "Church Lamb," and they thought it was a warning that the sick woman was to die. It was not so, however, for she recovered, but the day after a post fell and killed a little child on the neighbouring farm. So it was the "Church Lamb" she had seen after all.

Thirty years ago, there died a man in Ryslinge Parish. He lived to the north of the village, beside Nörremark Wood. Some days before he died the church lamb was seen going out to his farm. It was in the evening, and when it came to the last house, which lies close up to the wood, the dog there began to bark. When the farmer heard it, he went out to see what it was, and saw the church lamb, which came past the house, and held on its way to the farm, where the man died a few days after.

"WHEN my parents first came to live in Skjensved, it happened one night when my father was from home that my mother heard a little pig squeak outside the window. We had a sow with pigs just at the time, so she got out of bed and ran after it, but it hastily crept out under the gate into the street. My mother followed it, but could not come up with it, till at last it crept under the churchyard gate. At this she felt somewhat strange, and although she was not timid by nature, dared not enter the churchyard, but turned back to the house, where she went to the stye and counted the little pigs. Not one of them was missing. Next day she asked all the neighbours whether they had lost a pig; they all said "No," but the pig continued to make its appearance every night. The following Sunday my father told this to the old dean, who was far wiser than all other folk on earth. 'Oh,' said he, 'what else is it but a child that has been buried in secret, and now seeks for Christian earth? If you want to get rid of it, you must watch for a night or two and see where it comes from; dig there then, and if you find a child, take it and bury it in the churchyard. You will be free from it after that.' They did so, and found a little child under an old apple tree. They buried it in the churchyard, and the little pig never came again."

IN Kilde-bjærg in Tömmerup parish there lived berg-folk, who could not bear to hear the great bell ringing in the tower of Tömmerup church. Accordingly they went up into the tower one day, and carried off the bell into the mound. The people of the parish would not stand this, however, and on getting to know that they could quite well dig it up again, if they could only keep silence during the work, they at once began to dig for it. When they had dug for some time, they did find the bell, and got it raised so far that they could fasten a rope to it, to which they then yoked six horses. Just then one of the people unfortunately said, "Now we have it!" and so the bell sank still deeper than before, and only by cutting the rope did they save the horses from going with it.

MANY years ago the church bells in Kværndrup were to be repaired, as they were not sounding well. A certain Herr Essing was engaged for the purpose, and received a quantity of silver and brass to patch them with. This, however, he put into his own pocket, and mended them with copper and lead. When the bells came to be rung, they were too dull in sound, and the ringers pulled harder and harder at the rope, till at last the motion became so violent that one of the bells broke loose, flew out at the sound-holes, went right over the town, and only came to the ground when it reached a meadow to the west of the village. The strangest thing, however, was that while the bell was on its way above the town, it sang the following verse, which revealed Herr Essing's frauds: —

Three or four men were now sent to search for the bell, and found the hole in which it was lying. They got a rope put round it, and had already pulled it up to the surface, when one of the men declared, with a great oath, that they were sure of it now. Scarcely had he said this, when the bell again sank into the ground, and since that day no one has ever heard or seen anything of it.

IN the parish of Vatns-fjörd, beside Isa-fjörd, there stands a large mound, in which a chest full of gold is hidden. Many attempts have been made to get hold of this, but have always had to be given up, on account of terrible sights and sounds. One time two young and active fellows decided to dig into the mound, and made their way into it until they came to the chest. It was so heavy that they could not lift it, although they were both strong men. They accordingly dug all round about the chest, and under it as well. It was strongly bound with iron, and had rings in the ends. They fastened a rope to one of these, and the one man went below the chest to lift it up, while the other pulled at the rope. When the chest had been raised a little, the ring broke away from the end, and it fell back upon the man below, killing him at once. The other was scared at this and ran away, taking the ring with him. It was a large copper ring, and he gave it to Vatns-fjörd church, where it may be seen in the church-door to this day.

Others say that several men had united to dig into the mound. They found the chest, iron-bound and fitted with rings. One of them went under the chest and lifted it up, while the others pulled at the rope, which was drawn through both rings. When the chest had all but reached the brink of the hole, the men above were almost exhausted, and thought it doubtful whether they would get it up. One of them said, "It will come up yet, if God wills." The man below then shouted out: "It shall up, whether God wills or not." With that one of the rings gave way; the chest fell on the man, killing him at once, and the hole in the mound filled up again. The others turned away in terror, and gave the ring to the church, nor did they try the digging again.

IN the parish of Navr, beside Holstebro, lie two large mounds, one on each side of the village of Alstrup. The one to the north is called Ringshöi, and that to the south Möglehöi. In the latter lies a great treasure, which two men from Alstrup tried to dig for one night. They worked in silence, until one ear of the copper-pot, in which the treasure was, was sticking up, but just then one of the men looked up, and to his amazement, caught sight of two cocks, which came along the road from Navrtorp, dragging a huge load of hay. All at once, one of them became restive, kicked out behind and splintered the swingletree. The man burst out laughing, and said, "Well, never in all my days have I seen anything so funny." With that the pot immediately disappeared, and all their subsequent digging for it was in vain.

IN the parish of Bur, on the lands of Ny-gaard, lie three large mounds, in one of which lives a bergman who is a smith, and has his workshop there. By night one can often see fire coming out of the top of the mound, and strangely enough, going in again at its side; but it is by this means that he keeps his iron hot. If any one wishes to have a piece of iron worked by him, he has only to lay it on the mound, along with a silver coin as payment, at the same time saying what he has need of. Next morning the coin is taken away, and the piece of work desired lies there ready and well finished. One time the peasants of Bur resolved to dig up his treasures, and for that purpose assembled one night beside the mound, with picks and spades. After they had all been told that they must carefully avoid saying a single word, however strongly they were tempted to do so, they set to work; but scarcely had they put their spades into the ground, before all sorts of terrible sights came out of the mound. However, they dug on, undisturbed, and with the greatest silence, until they got down to a large stone-chamber. There lay the treasure before them — a large copper pot full of gold pieces; but close beside it a big black dog lay sleeping. One of the men pulled off his jacket, and quietly laid the dog on this to carry it away, and while he was doing so, the others stood looking out of the mound. There came then, out of the mound, a large load of hay drawn by two cocks, which drew it three times round the mound; but all of those present were careful not to say a word. At the third round, however, one of the cocks kicked out so violently that it broke the thick shaft of the cart; then one of the men exclaimed, "That was a devilish kick for a cock," but scarcely had he said this, when all the men were thrown far away out of the mound, which immediately closed again.

IN the neighbourhood of Maribo is a forest, in the corner of which is a spot called Eriks-volde. This is a large mound, surrounded by high ramparts and deep ditches, and here in olden time there is said to have been a castle in which lived King Erik, who ruled over a great part of Laaland. In the heart of the mound a large treasure is buried. Some men from the neighbouring village of Erikstrup once tried to dig it up; they had heard that if they could work on for six hours without interruption and without speaking a word, the treasure would be theirs. They accordingly set to work one evening in high hopes. When they had worked for a little, the mound began to shake and tremble beneath them, but they would not be scared by that. Then they saw a cock come along, dragging a large bull; the bull struggled against it, but to no purpose, the cock dragged it off with it. Still they kept silence and worked on. In a little while they saw four mice come past the mound, dragging a big load of hay; this looked rather wonderful, but they did not let it disturb them. They had now got so far down that the edge of the copper pot in which the treasure lies began to appear, but just at that moment one of them happened to look out over the wood towards the village. "The village is in flames!" he cried, and they all rushed off to save it, but when they got out through the wood there was no fire to be seen. They turned back to get the treasure, but it had disappeared for ever, and there was no trace of all their work.

A MAN in Lund in Björnsholm parish went out one morning to search for his horse. As he wandered about looking for it, he came upon a black dog, which was lying above a copper pot. The man could see that there was money in this, so he took off his jacket and spread it on the ground, lifted the dog gently in his arms and laid it on the jacket, after which he took the money out of the pot and placed the dog above it as before. Then the dog said, "If you had not lifted me so gently, and laid me so softly, it would not have gone so well with you." There was so much money that he could not take it all home with him, so he laid it in a corner of the wood and went home for a sack. He hung the horse's halter in the tree above the spot, and went off in great delight, thinking he had won all Björnsholm and more. But his joy was short-lived. When he returned with the sack, and looked for the halter, there was one hanging on every tree! He went about looking under every tree, but when he had done so for some time, there was a noise like a rifle-shot, or worse; after that he found his halter, but the money was gone, and he had nothing for all his trouble. If he had only taken as much as he could carry when he had the chance!

SOUTH in Njard-vík there is a mound called Háa-leyti (High's grave), where great treasure-lights have often been seen, and it was commonly said that gold was hidden there. It was long, however, before anyone tried to get it, especially as the mound and its neighbourhood were, and are still, believed to be haunted.

About 1850-60 there lived near the mound a farmer, who was a good smith, and was often at work in his smithy, the doors of which looked right out on the mound. One time he was there working, and along with him one Gudmund, who was a man of sense, and so strong in body that he was considered to be quite equal to any two men. They were talking together in the best spirits, when the farmer happened to look at the mound and saw a blue flame spring up out of it all at once. He proposed to Gudmund that they go to the mound, and try to get at the money, to which Gudmund agreed. They went towards the flame, which sank lower as they approached it, and finally disappeared when they had got close to it. The farmer asked Gudmund whether he would rather deal with the ghost or dig for the treasure, but suggested that he should deal with the ghost, because he was the younger and stronger of the two. Gudmund assented to this, and they agreed that they should share the treasure equally, if they succeeded in getting it. With this the man began to dig in the mound, and Gudmund noticed nothing at first, but before long he felt himself gripped from behind. He turned round at once to offer resistance, but could not get hold of the ghost, who presented nothing substantial to the touch. This went on a long time, and sometimes Gudmund thought he had the ghost under him, but he always slipped from his grasp and attacked him again. Meanwhile the farmer had got down to a large chest full of money, which he dragged off, while Gudmund held his own with the ghost till morning, by which time he was so exhausted that he had enough ado to get home to the farm. He slept till well on in the day, and on waking went out to the farmer, who was in the smithy, hard at work. Gudmund asked how much money there was in the chest, but the farmer said he would drive the iron spike through him, if he told of their find. Gudmund thought it is his best plan to give in to this, and the farmer gave him twenty dollars when they parted, but Gudmund told the story all the same, not being afraid of the farmer. Gudmund said that the ghost most resembled a flock of wool to the touch, and was not stronger than a stalwart man, nor would he have had any difficulty in felling him if he had not been so slippery.

THE pestilence so well known by the name of "The Black Death," which, with the speed of lightning, spread from the highlands of Asia on the borders of China, to the coasts of the Polar Sea, and before whose deadly breath thousands on thousands perished, was brought to Bergen by a stranded English ship, and from there spread with terrible violence from dale to dale, cleared the whole land of people and cattle, and brought Norway to a state of weakness which lasted for centuries. The land is said to have lost two-thirds of its inhabitants. In most of the mountain districts there are stories of this pestilence, which, in some places, is called by the peasants "The Great Plague" (Store-manna-douen), in others "The Black Death" (Svart-douen), and "The Pest" (Pesta). Sometimes the pest is imagined as an old sallow woman, who went round the land with a rake and a besom. Where she used the rake, some always escaped with their lives, but where she swept, every mother's son died. For the most part, she wore a red shirt, and folk were terrified at seeing her. Many a dale died out, and only after centuries were the forgotten places discovered, where sometimes the old houses were found, sometimes only the remains of buildings and other traces of previous occupation. Such recovered dales were afterwards called Finddale, Fundarhuse, Findland, etc. Many of them were cleared again, but all over the country may still be found spots which bear traces of former occupation, but are now used only as summer pastures.

BEFORE the pest visited Norway, what is now called Sætersdal was uninhabited, and used only for summer pasture; whereas that called Finddal, now used for the summer pasture, was then the inhabited district. Besides the support given to the tradition by the name Sætersdal itself, there are also found in Finddal traces of former fields and houses, and in fact on an island in a mountain lake, which bears the name of Kirkholm, are found traces of a church and churchyard.

The Black Death wrought fearful desolation in Finddal, where it only spared a single couple, Knud and Thore Nuten. These two continued to live in Finddal, and although new inhabitants afterwards came into Sætersdal and settled there, yet Knud and Thore could not bring themselves to leave their old home.

Thus year after year passed, and the only want, says the story, that they felt in their loneliness, was that of not knowing exactly how time went. Especially when the dark winter came, they were vexed that they did not know when Christmas was, and so could not keep it at the same time as other people. Now and again a wanderer from the newly-inhabited Sætersdal had brought to them the news of its being repeopled, and so, as it drew near to the shortest winter days, the old couple decided that Thore should go there, and find out how long it was to the great festival. The old woman left her husband completely alone, "took her foot in her hand," and set out on the road. But as she was going past a cliff, and rested there, she heard in clear tones from the mountain.

The old woman hastened back in great joy to her waiting husband, and after this infallible information, they celebrated together the holy festival. No descendants of theirs are mentioned, but by and by the new inhabitants of Sætersdal took possession of Finddal as well.

ABOUT 1350 raged the Black Death, of which history relates that it carried off four-fifths of the population in the Scandinavian countries, which, however, is not quite universally true. Nevertheless, even to this day may be heard faint echoes of the terror which that pestilence caused. It is said that children even avoided burying their parents' bodies, many houses stood empty, and the cattle roamed wild over the fields. A little girl was on one occasion pursued by a bull. While she was running, the pest took hold of her, and she fell dead, so quickly did it kill. The practice of saying "God help you," to one who sneezes, is by some referred to this time; sneezing was a sign of having caught the pest. The year before it, a vapour was seen to rise out of the ground, and spread itself over the whole country.

In this pestilence all the people in Oster-Lögum parish died out, with the exception of three ploughmen, who shut themselves up above an archway in the farm now owned by Nis Hansen in Havelund. They took with them provisions for six months, but every eighth day they went out and hoisted a piece of fresh beef on the end of a long pole. This hung for the next eight days, and was then taken down. For a long time the meat was always spoiled and black when they took it down, and this was a sign that the plague was still in the air. This went on until the meat was still fresh when they took it down, and they judged that there was no longer any danger. Then they said to each other, "Now we shall go and see our neighbours;" but they went from house to house and found only the dead, both human beings and animals. In this way they went from village to village over the whole parish. The people lay dead on the fields beside their ploughs, and there was no living thing except eagles and beasts of prey. Houses and farms stood empty for twenty-five or thirty years after that time. A priest was brought out to the church from Aaben-raa, and offered up a prayer of thanksgiving for the cessation of the pestilence.

AT the time when the Black Death began to rage, it was the custom of a certain farmer to hold prayers every morning at all seasons of the year. On one occasion they were busy gathering the hay together, as it looked like rain, when the farmer said they would go home to prayers. Some of the others objected to this, and said it would be more fitting for them to get the hay in, but the farmer insisted, and they all went to the house. During the day there came in sight two tiny tufts of cloud, which came nearer and increased in size till at last they appeared as a man and a woman riding on grey horses. They rode along above the farm, and the woman was heard to say, "Shall we visit here?" "No," said the man, "that was not commanded us." So the Black Death passed over without coming to the farm, and all the people there survived.