The Giant’s Bride
More than with anything else, the Lapp legends have to do with giants and the adventures of mankind with them. The giant is feared because of his great size and strength and his insatiable appetite for human flesh. His laziness, clumsiness, and that he is inferior to the man in intelligence are, however, often the cause of his overthrow.
It is, therefore, commonly an adventure wherein the giant has been outwitted by a Lapp man or woman that concludes the giant stories.
There was one time a giant who made love to a rich Lapp girl. Neither she nor her father were much inclined toward the match, but they did not dare do otherwise than appear to consent and at the same time thank the Giant for the high honor he would bestow upon them. The father, nevertheless, determined that the union should not take place, and consoled himself with the hope that when the time arrived some means of defeating the Giant’s project would be presented. Meantime he was obliged to set the day when the Giant might come and claim his bride. Before the Giant’s arrival the Lapp took a block of wood, about the size of his daughter, and clothing it in a gown, a new cap, silver belt, shoes and shoe band, he sat it up in a corner of the tent, with a close veil, such as is worn by Lapp brides, over the head.
When the Giant entered the tent he was much pleased to find the bride, as he supposed, in her best attire awaiting him, and at once asked his prospective father-in-law to go out with him and select the reindeer that should go with the bride as her dower. Meanwhile the daughter was concealed behind an adjacent hill with harnessed reindeer ready for flight. When the reindeer had been counted out the Giant proceeded to kill one of them for supper, while the Lapp slipped off into the woods, and, joining his daughter, they fled with all speed into the mountains.
The Giant, after dressing the reindeer, went into the tent to visit his sweetheart.
“Now, my little darling,” said he, “put the kettle over the fire.”
But no move in the corner.
“Oh, the little dear is bashful, I’ll have to do it myself then,” said he.
After the pot had been boiling awhile he again addressed the object in the corner:
“Now my girl, you may cleave the marrow bone,” but still no response.
“My little one is bashful, then I must do it myself,” thought he.
When the meat was cooked he tried again:
“Come, now, my dear, and prepare the meat.” But the bride was as bashful as before, and did not stir.
“Gracious! how bashful she is. I must do it myself,” repeated the Giant.
When he had prepared the meal he bade her come and eat, but without effect. The bride remained motionless in her corner.
“The more for me, then,” thought he, and sat himself to the repast with a good appetite. When he had eaten, he bade his bride prepare the bed.
“Ah, my love, are you so bashful? I must then do it myself,” said the simple Giant.
“Go now and retire.” No, she had not yet overcome her bashfulness, whereupon the Giant became angry and grasped the object with great force.
Discovering how the Lapp had deceived him, and that he had only a block of wood instead of a human of flesh and blood, he was beside himself with rage, and started in hot pursuit after the Lapp. The latter, however, had so much the start that the Giant could not overtake him. At the same time it was snowing, which caused the Giant to lose his way in the mountains. Finally he began to suffer from the cold. The moon coming up, he thought it a fire built by the Lapp, and at once set out on a swift run toward it, but he had already run so far that he was completely exhausted. He then climbed to the top of a pine, thinking thereby to get near enough to the fire to warm himself, but he froze to death instead, and thus ends the story.
A poor Lapp once ran into the hands of a Giant, by whom he knew he would be devoured if he could not conceive some means of outwitting him. To this end he therefore proposed that they have a contest of strength, the test to be that they should butt against a tree and see which could drive his head farthest into it. He who could make the deepest impression must, of course, be the stronger.
The Giant was first to make the trial. Taking his stand some distance from a tall pine, with a spring forward he drove his head with furious force against the trunk, but the most careful search did not discover a mark caused by the blow. The Lapp then said that he would show his strength the next day. During the night he made a large hollow in the trunks of several trees and re-covered the cavities nicely with the bark. Next morning, when the contest was renewed, the Lapp ran from tree to tree, into each of which he thrust his head to his ears. The Giant looked on, thoroughly crestfallen at the exhibition of strength, but proposed that they have another trial. This time he who could throw an ice ax highest into the air should be declared the victor. The Giant threw first, and to such a height that the ax was almost lost to sight.
“That was a miserable throw,” said the Lapp. “When I throw it shall be so high that it will lodge upon a cloud.”
“No, my dear!” shouted the Giant. “Rather let me acknowledge myself the weaker, than lose my splendid ax.” Thus again the Lapp came off champion.
The next day, as the Lapp and the Giant were out in company, the Lapp gathered a number of willow twigs and began twisting them together.
“What are you about to do with those?” asked the Giant.
“I mean to carry away your treasure house,” answered the Lapp.
“Oh, my son,” sighed the Giant, “let me retain my house, and I will fill your hat with silver.”
“Very well,” replied the Lapp.
While the Giant was away after the silver, the Lapp dug a pit, cut a hole in his hat crown and sat the hat over the pit.
“It’s a big hat you have,” complained the Giant.
“Fill it up!” shouted the Lapp. “Otherwise I’ll throw you, as I would have done the ice ax, up into the clouds.” And the Giant was compelled to give the Lapp such a sum of money that he was ever after a rich man.