The Glass Mountain

There was once upon a time a miller who lived with his wife in great contentment. One evening

when the full moon was shining in the sky, the miller pulled a flute out of his pocket, and played

on it a beautiful but sorrowful air.

“Here I stand, a little world,

On my two feet, a little world,

Worn-out, mother,

But the moon made thy bed,” he said, then again he said,

“Here I stand, a big world,

On my two feet, a big world,

Worn-out, mother,

But the moon made thy dish,”

“Here I stand, a whole world,

On my two feet, a whole world,

Worn-out, mother,

But the moon made thy mountain.”

When he finished he saw that his wife was weeping bitterly. She then made his bed, cooked

dinner, and brought to her husband a heap of gold and silver. She said, “you have caused a

mountain to be made. Let us ask the King of the mountain if he might accept our gold and

silver.” She continued, “If we bring him gold, we shall cross the mountain without falling, and

he shall have it.” And the miller said he would go over it, and in the morning he looked at her

and said, “Yes, we shall cross the mountain.”

So they set out together to go over it. It took seventeen long days until they found the

mountain the miller created, and it was made of glass. When they were half way up the

mountain, they found a princess. The princess had slipped and fell, and the glass had opened

and shut her inside it, and her king could not see where she had gone, for the mountain had

closed immediately.

The wife wept and lamented much, and the miller was miserable too. Had the mountain

broken open where she fell, they could be able to get her out, so they set out together to find

the location which she had fallen. They happened upon a cave quite deep down into the

mountain. An old fellow named Old Ricrank with a very long gray beard emerged from the

cave.

Old Ricrank was first struck dumb, but the miller spoke kindly, and told him, “I will make thee

richer and happier than thou has been before, only thou must promise to give me the young

thing in thy cave.” - “What else can that be,” thought Old Ricrank, “But my young kitten?” And

he promised the miller what he desired.” They descended into the cave, consoled and in good

spirits.

“Beware, “ Old Ricrank said to them, “If thou does but touch the glass, it will seize thee, and

draw thee down.” The miller’s wife became alarmed, and her husband told her to be on his

guard against the snares of the mountain. They dared not venture small passages, and they

already suspected what had happened to the princess. The walls of the mountain remained calm, only the crescent moon stared steadily back at them, with hasty glass steps that paced round and round its center, to the top of the mountain.

Old Ricrank did not leave the miller and his wife. They paced the steps, without resting

a moment, sometimes hearing a loud cry, sometimes soft sobbing. At last they came to an old

woman who received them kindly, and pointed out a chair which the miller’s wife might sit.

“You may call me Mother Molot.” - “There must have been a misfortune,” the miller said, “Since

this mountain hast sought out my bones anew.” “Be comforted,” said Mother Molot, “Here is a

golden axe for thee. Tarry it with thee, and push glass with this axe.” And the glass cave’s

walls were moved with ease. “When thou hast done, lay it down on the mountain and thou wilt

see what will happen.”

The miller accepted the golden axe, and his wife took some of the gold out of her pocket, and

set it up against the mountain, and it bayed all around the gold ingot. “We had milled many

years, mother, and are here to bring a heap of gold and silver to the King of the mountain.”

Then Mother Molot called to Old Ricrank. When he arrived, he talked with Mother Molot, then

looked at the miller’s wife and said.” - “No,” “The king will not accept gold from thee.”

Then the miller’s wife began to cry most piteously, for it hurt very much. But Old Ricrank said,

“In the morning we will take the ladder, and set it up against the mountain, and climb to the top

by its help.” Mother Molot cooked dinner, made bed, and accepted a small heap of gold and

silver from the miller’s wife. In the morning they were to ascend the mountain, but before night

fell, a little servant boy came out of the house, and cried to the old man. The miller and his

wife stood by as the saw the little boy act as though he were struck by lightning. Old Ricrank

approached the miller and said, “It appears I have cheated you. My fine boy told me our kitten

had befallen in glass, but what can I do? Even the animals, who wonder in untroubled, are

tormented in this place.” Then he explained that the kitten had lived in the cave for several

years, and was a delightful pet trapped in this little world, and that without its nightly dish it would surely starve.

The miller’s wife looked to her husband; everything was exactly as he had sung it the night of

the full moon. That night, he sung with the same sorrowful air:

“Here I stand, a little world,

On my two feet, a little world,

Worn-out, mother,

But the moon made thy bed,” he said, then again he said,

“Here I stand, a big world,

On my two feet, a big world,

Worn-out, mother,

But the moon made thy dish,”

“Here I stand, a whole world,

On my two feet, a whole world,

Worn-out, mother,

But the moon made thy mountain.”

No sooner was the song played than glass floor began stirring in its depths, and a wave rushed

forth and bore the flute away with it. Immediately afterwards the wall parted not only the crowned bald head of a man, but half of his body also arose. He stretched out his arms toward them, and drew an air, “Why art thou weeping?” He asked. “Alas,” answered the miller, “thus shone the the full moon when I played this air on the flute last time, and my beloved set out to cross this mountain.” He looked at is wife in the eyes as he approached the King and recognized his dear wife, and she looked at him and recognized her dear husband. “We would like to give to thee, the King, our precious flute, for it has created this very mountain.” The King did not speak so much, but took in his hands the flute, and looked at it and felt comforted, and returned into the glass mountain.

That evening, when the little boy, the millers, and the old couple were already at rest, the

millers heard the flute play, and it played with a beautiful air, and when the moon shone through

from crescent to full moon, the miller could recognize the king’s dear princess singing along,

and no one need ask if they were happy.