The Harvesters
In the parish of Ekshärad lies a mountain, Säljeberg, which was formerly the dwelling place of Trolls and giants, now exterminated.
Near the mountain dwelt a farmer, on one of the best farms in the parish. One summer evening he went over his fields admiring the seas of golden grain and exulting at the abundant harvest promised him.
“God be praised for this crop,” said he. “If I now could have all these fields harvested by early morning I would give my best cow.”
Hereupon he returned to his home and went to bed. Through the whole night the noise of reaping was heard in the fields and the Trolls calling:
“Make bands and bind; let the farmer dry it himself.”
As soon as sunrise the farmer was upon his feet and out into the fields, where, to his indescribable amazement, he saw them reaped and the grain lying in bundles upon the ground. Guessing that the Trolls had had a hand in the work, he sprang to the stable, there to find a stall empty and his best cow gone.
In the peak of Mount Garphytte, one of the many mountain tops that raise themselves over Kilseberger, dwelt, in former days, a giant named Rise.
One morning, as he went from his grotto out into the day, a strange sound, which caused him to pause, greeted his ear. He listened for some time, then returned into the mountain and called his wife.
“Put the smallest of those stones that lie upon the peak into your garter and sling it at that gray cow that goes tinkling along down there by Hjelmaren!” said he, meaning the new church just completed at Orebro, whose bells were that morning ringing for the first time in the service of the Lord.
The giantess, as she was commanded, took a stone as large as a house and threw it at the church, some eight or ten miles distant.
“That was a poor throw,” said the giant, when the stone fell down on the plain of Rumbo. “Bring here the band; you shall see a throw that will do its work,” whereupon he adjusted a monstrous stone in his wife’s garter, and, swinging it a few times through the air, let it go with all his power toward the new church.
“Great in command, but little in power,” said the giant woman, when the stone fell upon the one she had thrown, and was broken into a thousand pieces.
At the same time the bell rung out with wonderful clearness. Furious with rage, he tore up two large stones, took one under each arm, and set out for Orebro. Intelligence having reached the residents of Orebro that the giant was coming, consternation was general and good advice dear.
Finally, an old man undertook to save the church. In great haste he gathered up all the worn-out shoes he could find, put them in a sack, and set out to meet the giant. At Ulfgryt, in Toby, he met the giant, who was anything but gentle in appearance.
“How far is it to Orebro?” asked Rise.
“I can’t say exactly,” answered the old man, in an innocent manner, “but it is long a way, you will find, for it is seven years since I left there, and I have worn out all these shoes on the way.”
“Then let him who will, go there, but I will not,” said the giant, and threw the stones from him to the ground with such force that they rang as they struck it.
The stones lie there by the roadside even to-day, but the most remarkable circumstance is that they turn over whenever the church bells in Orebro are rung.