There was once upon a time a miller who lived with his wife
in great contentment. They had money and land, and their
prosperity increased year by year more and more. But ill
luck comes like a thief in the night. As their wealth had
increased so did it again decrease, year by year, and at last
the miller could
hardly call the mill in which he lived, his own. He was in great
distress, and when he lay down after his day's work, found no
rest, but tossed about in his bed, sorely troubled. One
morning he rose before daybreak and went out into the open air,
thinking that perhaps there his heart might become lighter. As
he was stepping over the mill-dam the first sunbeam was just
breaking forth, and he heard a rippling sound in the pond. He
turned round and perceived a beautiful woman, rising slowly out
of the water. Her long hair, which she was holding off her
shoulders with her soft hands, fell down on both sides,
and covered her white body. He soon saw that she was the
nixie of the mill-pond, and in his fright did not know whether
he should run away or stay where he was. But the nixie made her
sweet voice heard, called him by his name, and asked him why he
was so sad. The miller was at first struck dumb, but when he heard
her speak so kindly, he took heart, and told her how he had
formerly lived in wealth and happiness, but that now he was so
poor that he did not know what to do. Be easy, answered the nixie,
I will make you richer and happier than you have ever been
before, only you must promise to give me the young thing which
has just been born in your house. What else can that be, thought
the miller, but a puppy or a kitten, and he promised her what she
desired. The nixie descended into the water again, and he
hurried back to his mill, consoled and in good spirits. He had
not yet reached it, when the maid-servant came out of the house
and cried to him to rejoice, for his wife had given birth to
a little boy. The miller stood as if struck by lightning. He
saw very well that the cunning nixie had been aware of it, and had
cheated him. Hanging his head, he went up to his wife's bedside
and when she said, why do you not rejoice over the fine boy, he
told her what had befallen him, and what kind of a promise he had
given to the nixie. Of what use to me are riches and prosperity,
he added, if I am to lose my child. But what can I do. Even the
relatives, who had come thither to wish them joy, did not know
what to say. In the meantime prosperity again returned to the
miller's house. All that he undertook succeeded. It was as
if presses and coffers filled themselves
of their own accord, and as if money multiplied nightly in the
cupboards. It was not long before his wealth was greater than
it had ever been before. But he could not rejoice over it
untroubled, for the bargain which he had made with the nixie
tormented his soul. Whenever he passed the mill-pond, he feared
she might ascend and remind him of his debt. He never let the
boy himself go near the water. Beware, he said to him, if you
do but touch the water, a hand will rise, seize you, and draw you
down. But as year after year went by and the nixie did not show
herself again, the miller began to feel at ease. The boy grew
up to be a youth and was apprenticed to a huntsman. When he had
learnt everything, and had become an excellent huntsman, the
lord of the village took him into his service. In the village
lived a beautiful and true-hearted maiden, who pleased the
huntsman, and when his master perceived that, he gave him a
little house, the two were married, lived peacefully and
happily, and loved each other with all their hearts.
One day the huntsman was chasing a roe. And when the animal
turned aside from the forest into the open country, he pursued
it and at last shot it. He did not notice that he was now in
the neighborhood of the dangerous mill-pond, and went, after
he had disembowelled the roe, to the water, in order to wash
his blood-stained hands. Scarcely, however, had he dipped
them in than the nixie ascended, smilingly wound her dripping
arms around him, and drew him quickly down under the waves,
which closed over him. When it was evening, and the huntsman
did not return home, his wife became alarmed. She went out to
seek him, and as he had often told her that he had to be on
his guard against the snares of the nixie, and dared not venture
into the neighborhood of the mill-pond, she already suspected
what had happened. She hastened to the water, and
when she found his hunting-pouch lying on the shore, she could
no longer have any doubt of the misfortune. Lamenting her
sorrow, and wringing her hands, she called on her beloved
by name, but in vain. She hurried across to the other side
of the pond, and called him anew. She reviled the nixie with
harsh words, but no answer greeted her. The surface of the water
remained calm, only the crescent moon stared steadily back at
her. The poor woman did not leave the pond. With hasty steps,
she paced round and round it, without resting a moment, sometimes
in silence, sometimes uttering a loud cry, sometimes sobbing
softly. At last her strength came to an end, she sank down
to the ground and fell into a heavy sleep. Presently a dream
took possession of her.
She was anxiously climbing upwards between great masses of
rock. Thorns and briars caught her feet, the rain beat in her
face, and the wind tossed her long hair about. When she had
reached the summit, quite a different sight presented itself
to her. The sky was blue, the air soft, the ground sloped
gently downwards, and on a green meadow, gay with flowers of
every color, stood a pretty cottage. She went up to it and
opened the door. There sat an old woman
with white hair, who beckoned to her kindly. At that very
moment, the poor woman awoke, day had already dawned, and she
at once resolved to act in accordance with her dream. She
laboriously climbed the mountain. Everything was exactly as she
had seen it in the night. The old woman received her kindly,
and pointed out a chair on which she might sit. You must have
met with a misfortune, she said, since you have sought out my
lonely cottage. With tears, the woman related what had befallen
her. Be comforted, said the old woman, I will help you. Here
is a golden comb for you. Tarry till the full moon has risen,
then go to the mill-pond, seat yourself on the shore, and
comb your long black hair with this comb. When you have done,
lay it down on the bank, and you will see what will happen. The
woman returned home, but the time till the full moon came, passed
slowly. When at last the shining disc appeared in the heavens,
she went out to the mill-pond, sat down and combed her long black
hair with the golden comb, and when she had finished, she laid
it down at the water's edge. It was not long before there
was a movement in the depths, a wave rose, rolled to the shore,
and bore the comb away with it. In not more than the time
necessary for the comb to sink to the bottom, the surface of
the water parted, and the head of the huntsman arose. He did
not speak, but looked at his wife with sorrowful glances.
At the same instant, a second wave came rushing up, and covered
the man's head. All had vanished, the mill-pond lay peaceful as
before, and nothing but the face of the full moon shone on it.
Full of sorrow, the woman went back, but again the dream showed
her the cottage of the old woman. Next morning she again set
out and complained of her woes to the wise woman. The old
woman gave her a golden flute, and said, tarry till the full
moon comes again, then take this flute. Play a beautiful air
on it, and when you have finished, lay it on the sand. Then
you will see what will happen. The wife did as the old woman
told her. No sooner was the flute lying on the sand than there
was a stirring in the depths, and a wave rushed up and bore
the flute away with it. Immediately afterwards the water
parted, and not only the head of the man, but
half of his body also arose. He stretched out his arms
longingly towards her, but a second wave came up, covered him,
and drew him down again. Alas, what does it help me, said the
unhappy woman, that I should see my beloved, only to lose him
again. Despair filled her heart anew, but the dream led her
a third time to the house of the old woman. She set out, and
the wise woman gave her a golden spinning-wheel, consoled her and
said, all is not yet fulfilled, tarry until the time of the full
moon, then take the spinning-wheel, seat yourself on the shore,
and spin the spool full, and when you have done that, place the
spinning-wheel near the water, and you will see what will happen.
The woman obeyed all she said exactly. As soon as the full moon
showed itself, she carried the golden spinning-wheel to the
shore, and span industriously until the flax came to an end, and
the spool was quite filled with the threads. No sooner was the
wheel standing on the shore than there was a more violent movement
than before in the depths of the pond, and a mighty wave rushed
up, and bore the wheel away with it. Immediately the head and
the whole body of the man rose into the air, in a water-spout.
He quickly sprang to the shore, caught his wife by the hand and
fled. But they had scarcely gone a very little distance,
when the whole pond rose with a frightful roar, and streamed
out over the open country. The fugitives already saw death
before their eyes, when the woman in her terror implored the
help of the old woman, and in an instant they were transformed,
she into a toad, he into a frog. The flood which had overtaken
them could not destroy them, but it tore them apart and carried
them far away.
When the water had dispersed and they both touched dry land again,
they regained their human form, but neither knew where the other
was. They found themselves among strange people, who did not
know their native land. High mountains and deep valleys lay
between them. In order to keep themselves alive, they were
both obliged to tend sheep. For many long years they drove
their flocks through field and forest and were full of sorrow
and longing.
When spring had once more broken forth on the earth, they both
went out one day with their flocks, and as chance would have it,
they drew near each other. They met in a valley, but did not
recognize each other. Yet they rejoiced that they were no
longer so lonely. Henceforth they each day drove their flocks
to the same place. They did not speak much, but they felt
comforted. One evening when the full moon was shining in the
sky, and the sheep were already at rest, the shepherd pulled
the flute out of his pocket, and played on it a beautiful but
sorrowful air. When he had finished he saw that the shepherdess
was weeping bitterly. Why are you weeping, he asked. Alas,
answered she, thus shone the full moon when I played this air
on the flute for the last time, and the head of my beloved
rose out of the water. He looked at her, and it seemed as if a
veil fell from his eyes, and he recognized his dear wife, and
when she looked at him, and the moon shone in his face she
knew him also. They embraced and kissed each other, and no one
need ask if they were happy.
