Undine | Page 2

often to
journey.
It was true that he entered the dreaded shades with fear, yet no spectre
ever crossed his path. But perhaps that was because the thoughts of the
old man were pure, or perhaps because he never entered the forest
without singing a hymn in a clear brave voice.
As the fisherman sat mending his nets on this fair summer eve he began
to move restlessly, to glance around uneasily.
Then a sudden terror fell upon him as he heard a noise in the forest
behind.
Ah, how the trees rustled and how the grass was being trampled
underfoot! Could it be a horseman who made haste to escape from
some terrible foe?
And now, although he was wide awake, the fisherman seemed to see a
figure, which he had seen before only in his dreams.
He saw the figure of a tall, strong, snow-white man, who came with
slow steps toward him, and at each step he took, the figure nodded his
great white head.
The fisherman rubbed his eyes as he glanced toward the wood. At the
same moment the wind seemed to blow the leaves aside to make room
for the snow-white man, whose head never ceased to nod.
'Well,' said the fisherman to himself, 'I have ever passed through the
forest unharmed, why should I fear that evil will befall me here?' and
he began to repeat aloud a verse of the Bible.
At the sound of his own voice courage crept back into the heart of the
fisherman, moreover the words of the Holy Book rebuked his fears.
Nor was it long before he was able even to laugh and to see how foolish
he had been.

For listen! The white nodding man was after all only a stream which
the fisherman knew very well, a stream which ran and bubbled out of
the forest and fell into the lake. As for the rustling noise, the fisherman
saw what had caused that, as a gaily clad knight rode forth from the
forest shadows toward the little cottage.
This was no spectre or spirit of the wood, this stranger who wore the
garments of a knight of high degree. He rode a white horse, which
stepped softly, so that the flowers in the meadows lifted their delicate
heads uninjured by his tread.
The fisherman raised his cap as the stranger drew near, and then quietly
went on mending his nets.
Now when the knight saw the old man's face it was welcome to him, as
indeed any human face would have been after the terrors of the forest.
There he had seen strange mocking faces peering at him whichever way
he turned, there he had been followed by strange shadowy forms from
which escape had been wellnigh impossible; here at length was a kind
and friendly mortal. He would ask him for the food and shelter of
which both he and his steed stood in need.
'Dear sir,' answered the fisherman when he had listened to the knight's
request, 'dear sir, if you will deign to enter our lonely cottage, you will
find a welcome with the food and shelter we offer. As for your horse,
can it have a better stable than this tree-shaded meadow, or more
delicious fodder than this green grass?'
Well pleased with this answer, the knight dismounted, and together he
and the fisherman freed the white horse from its saddle and bridle, and
turned it loose into the waving meadow.
Then the old man led the stranger into the cottage.
Here, by the light of the kitchen fire, sat the fisherman's wife. She rose,
with a kind greeting for the unexpected guest. Then seating herself
again in her armchair, she pointed to an old stool with a broken leg. 'Sit
there, good knight,' she said; 'only you must sit still, lest the broken leg

prove too weak to bear you.'
Carrying the stool over beside the old woman, the knight placed it
carefully on the floor and seated himself as he was bidden. As he sat
there talking with the good old fisherman and his wife, it seemed to
him almost as though he were their son, who had come home again
after journeying in a distant land.
It was only when the knight began to speak of the wood that the
fisherman grew restless and refused to listen.
'It were wiser, Sir Knight,' he said, 'not to talk of the wood at nightfall,
or indeed to say much of it at any time.'
And then the old couple told their guest how simply they lived in the
little cottage by the lake, and they in their turn listened eagerly while
the knight told them of himself. He was named Sir Huldbrand, and he
dwelt in his castle of Ringstetten, which