siege before long. The young hero was not to be held back: at midnight he took leave of his foster-father and his other faithful friends.
“May God protect you, my dear lord,” said Berchtung, clasping him in his arms. “You will have to cross the deserts of Roumelia, which are uninhabited, save by wild beasts and evil spirits. There you will find Rauch-Else, who lies in wait for young warriors. Beware of her, for she is a witch, cunning in enchantments. If you are fortunate enough to reach the emperor Ortnit, do not forget your trusty henchmen, me and my ten remaining sons.”
So they parted. They arranged that the besieged should make a sally through the principal gate of the fortress, to draw off the enemy’s attention to that quarter, while Wolfdieterich got away by a postern door at the back. He was nearly out of the enemy’s camp when he was recognised. Immediately mounting his horse, he drew his sword and cut his way through their midst, and once in the dark forest beyond, he was safe from pursuit. All night long Wolfdieterich rode through the wood. He heard the were-wolves howling in the distance, but none came near to seek his life. As morning broke, he found himself by the side of a broad moorland lake. All sorts of strange creatures rose out of it, and sought to bar the road. Two of them he killed, but he let the others escape. He wandered three days in the wilderness, finding nothing for his horse or himself to eat. He shared the bread he had in his wallet with his steed. It was but a little at best; and the faithful creature was at last too exhausted to carry him farther, so he dismounted and led it by the bridle.
On the fourth evening, fatigue overpowered him so much that he was forced to rest. He lighted a fire with the brushwood scattered about. The warmth did him good, for a cold mist hung over the face of the earth. He and his horse quenched their thirst at a neighbouring rill, after which he lay down, and making a pillow of his saddle, thought over his sad fate. Sleep was beginning to steal upon his senses, when he was suddenly roused by a noise in the dry grass. Something black, and horrible to look upon, crept nearer and nearer. It raised itself in the air; its height was appalling. It spoke to him, not with a human voice; the sound was more like the growling of an angry bear.
“How dare you rest here!” said the monster. “I am Rauch-Else (rough Alice), and this ground belongs to me; besides which, I have another and a wider realm. Get up, and go at once, or I will throw you into the quaking bog.”
Wolfdieterich would willingly have obeyed, but he was too tired. He could not move. He therefore begged the bear-like queen to give him something to eat, telling her that his cruel brothers had deprived him of his inheritance, and that he was now starving in the desert.
“So you are Wolfdieterich,” growled the bear-woman. “Well, Fate has marked you out to be my husband, so you may count upon my aid.”
Upon which she gave him a juicy root, and scarcely had he eaten one mouthful when his courage returned, and his strength seemed tenfold what it had ever been before. It even came into his mind that he could conquer the Greek forces single-handed, and set his eleven faithful servants free. In obedience to Rauch-Else’s command, he gave the rest of the root to his horse, which first smelt it carefully, and then ate eagerly. No sooner had it done so, than it began to paw the ground, and neighed with eagerness to resume its journey.
“Speak, will you be my true love?” asked the bear-woman, coming up to the youth, and preparing to clutch him to her heart with her terrible claws.
“Keep back,” he cried, drawing his sword. “Demon that you are, seek a husband in hell, where alone you will find a helpmeet worthy of you.”
“Have I not fed and succoured you?” asked Rauch-Else; “was that done like a demon? I have long waited for you to come and free me from an evil spell. Love me, and save me.”
It seemed to the warrior as if her voice had all at once grown soft and human in its tones.
“Yes, yes,” he said, “if only you were not so rough and hairy.”
He had hardly spoken, when the black fleece slowly slipped to her feet, and a beautiful woman stood before him, her brow encircled by a diadem, and her green silken garment confined at the waist by a jewelled belt. Her voice was sweet and thrilling as she repeated her former words.
“Speak, young hero, will you love me?”
His only answer was to clasp her in his arms and kiss her.
“You must know,” she said, “that although Rauch-Else was my name here in the wilderness, I am really Sigeminne, queen of Old-Troja. Your ‘yes’ has set me free from the spell of the enchanter, so we can now set out for my country, of which you shall be king.”
Full of joy and thankfulness, they started on their way, followed by Wolfdieterich’s horse. At last they heard the sound of waves breaking upon the shore, to which they soon afterwards descended. There they found a curious vessel awaiting them. The prow was formed of a fish’s head, large and pointed. At the helm stood a merman, whose outstretched arm was the handle by which the rudder, or fish’s tail, was worked. Instead of sails, the vessel was rigged out with griffins’ wings, the advantage of which was, that they enabled it to go against both wind and tide, when such a course was thought desirable. The merman was so marvellously fashioned out of cedar-wood from Mount Lebanon, that it could steer wherever the travellers wished without their help. There were other wonders on board the ship, such as a cap of darkness, a ring with a stone ensuring victory to the wearer, a shirt of palm-silk, and many other things. The shirt seemed as though it would only fit a little child; but when Sigeminne put it on her lover, it grew bigger and bigger, until it fitted him exactly.
“Take great care of it,” she said, “and wear it whenever you are in any danger, for it will protect you alike from steel and stone, from fire and dragon’s tooth.”
Wafted by the griffins’ wings, the vessel clove the western sea, swift as the wind, and soon brought the travellers to Old-Troja. There the people received their beloved queen with shouts of joy, and cheered loud and long when she introduced the stately warrior Wolfdieterich as her future husband. The marriage was solemnized with great festivities, and a life of joy began for the new king. By the side of his fair wife he forgot all his misfortunes and sorrows, and, alas! even the Eleven Friends he had left in peril of their lives. Now and then, when he was alone, the memory of all that had come and gone would cross his mind like something he had dreamt, and then he would reproach himself with neglecting his duty; but Sigeminne had only to take his hand, and he once more forgot that honour and duty alike bade him be up and doing.
Once when he, his wife, and the whole court were out hunting, a wondrous stag with golden horns broke out of a neighbouring thicket. He did not seem to be afraid, but, after looking at the hunters, turned back to the wood.
“Up, good folk,” cried Sigeminne. “Whoever kills that stag, and brings me the golden antlers, shall stand high in my favour, and receive a ring from my own hand.”
A number of huntsmen started in pursuit, first among them Wolfdieterich. The stag led him by many devious paths, only to disappear at last. Wolfdieterich returned to the tents much disappointed. When he got there, he found all in confusion; for that terrible magician, Giant Drusian, followed by many armed dwarfs, had fallen on the camp during the absence of the king and his warriors, and had carried off the queen. No one knew where he had taken her to. Wolfdieterich was now as much alone in the world, and as wretched, as he had been that terrible day in the desert. One thought filled his mind—the thought of Sigeminne. He would seek her through the world; and if he could not find her, he would die!
He exchanged his royal robes for a pilgrim’s dress, and hid his sword in a hollow staff, which served to support him on his journey. Thus accoutred, he wandered through many lands, asking everywhere for the castle of Giant Drusian. At length he learnt from a tiny dwarf, that the man he sought lived in the lofty mountains
