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household came from Westerland—now a fashionable bathing-place, with kurhouse and weekly balls during the season-but he and his were called the Westerland cats, because they were both small and more deceitful than all the other warriors. Sialle and Kialbing were fishermen, and like Barming came from Eidum. Sialle had a porpoise-hide over his shoulders, with the head coming over his head, and the tail wagging behind his back. He smelt like carrion, but he said that was of no consequence since he would be all the more objectionable to the enemy-and he was right, as we shall shortly see. Kialbing flourished a whale's jawhone. Unding and Wirk, who came from Rantum, like pruderastas had thought of the probability of being hungry during the bathry A hung them. selves round with dried fish ; they carried fish nd š their hands. Most of the giants had bronze or iron swords and hara of metal ; but those who could shoot well had also crossbow wivi f. arrows of wood or fish bone. Truly, like the Austrian army in the i the re, this troop of giants was “awfully arrayed.” After offering a sac indet to Wedke or Odin, the army went northwards over the heath. Arme tail of the army came the odoriferous Sialle, and Thör, the King edlvol, who called out that he was driving his father's cows and swine ever graze. On the way the whole army lay down by a pond and dranbilit: im, Jess, one of the warriors, stopped when they came to the ore t:.doc giant's mound, one of the underground dwellings of the I gli it ! although Thör cried loudly, “Jüss ! Jüss !” as one calls Frise to “for,” said Jess, “there may be someone here we should d netu So he tore the wild grass from the side of the mound to :en tns ; entrance, but the dwarfs had been very careful, and had prese al up every opening, except the very low passage which one rh talulel see leading to such dwellings, through which scarcely a m curré je certainly not a giant, could wriggle on his face. So the arngratin ret ever northwards, and as they came to the place where the Syil racere : house now stands they saw the enemy approaching. But the ts, budav ground folk's curiosity turned into joy when they saw it was onapidly,ot giants who approached in their military array, for they had entedisu that the cross would have been borne before them. (One sees wheerors, ť part of the story came in.) But retreat was obviously prudei who d the dwarfs vanished into the hiding-places, of which the heath they of then full, and the giants were left foolishly looking at each ofiries is However, the enemy were certainly thereabouts, if they coulaited or found ; so the great dog which belonged to King Bröns was putars Bi the scent, and as he raised the coveys the giants killed them. of 50 the dwarfs were clever folk, and directed their attacks speedily againan it
ut the sea
Heave me is for a 109
the dog, and he died miserably. This angered the King, so that he ordered Sialle, with his offensive porpoise-hide, to the front, so that the enemy might be driven by the stench from the place ; for he had noticed that the dwarfs had very fine noses. This is almost as curious a detail as the mention we have elsewhere that the head of the dwarfs was King Finn. In almost all traditions of the north Finn is the head of the giants. To take one instance from a Swedish tale. A giant promises to build a church for the white Christ if Laurentius can find out his name. Laurentius finds out that his name is Finn by hearing the giantess hush her sleeping child. Now, it was from hearing the dwarf-King Finn's wife hushing her child to sleep that a Frisian had learnt that the dwarfs intended to make a murderous attack on the big people, and it was to partly anticipate the attack that war had been declared. It is the giants, too, who are usually gifted with a keen sense of smell, as everyone knows from
his nursery recollection of Jack the Giant-killer, if from no other she purce. In the Eskimo story of the girl who fled to the inlanders, Thes, iowever, Rink tells how the inlanders knew.a coast woman had come Care by the smell ; and in another tale, pointed out by Mr. W. H. Jones,
we hear of a singular people whose upper parts were human and the $10 lower little dogs, who were endowed with a keen sense of smell. Or hon was this battle story originally told of Finn as a giant, and has he had
all his attributes, save that of a miraculous sense of smell, taken from him in the course of generations to exalt the Frisian invaders ? To resume the account of the battle, however, the enemy fled affrighted at the odour which met them; and the Puks (our Puck must have belonged to this family) were the first to yield, throwing themselves at the King's feet and imploring mercy. After the war they were taken into the friendship of the Frisians, and became servants rather of the brownie order. The submission of the Puks so enraged their former allies that they became now the attackers rather than the attacked, and "quick as fleas," as honest Hansen puts it, they sprang at the giants, catching them by the legs and striking them beneath their mantles with knives and axes of stone. The giants fought like lions, and slew many ; but when they saw King Bröns and his son dead, and hundreds of others, they turned and fled towards the place called the Riisgap, whence, in later days, Hengist and Horsa sailed, tradition says, to the conquest of England. Fortunately for the Frisians, there was an unexpected diversion ; for the women of Sylt, mindful of their husbands' appetites (which seem from the legends to have been truly gigantic), had prepared various foods for them, and were on their way to the battle-field when they heard of the
ignominious and unexpected flight of their husbands and lovers They would not be so easily defeated. So, with many a curse upon their men's cowardice, they stood together and bade the dwarfs attack them. Those who came on received brose in the eye and were blinded; down the throat of another it was forced till he choked ; and so on, till the flying Frisians took heart of grace, and, plucking up their courage, returned to the field and fought and killed until every dwarf lay dead on the heath. Only Finn, the King, remained to weep alone, in the moonlight on his stone throne, over the kingdom that was once his, and was his no more. He could not live after his people had died ; and, as the sun set in the sea with the glorious hues which make so notable a feature of North Frisian island life, King Finn took his stone knife and slew himself. Meantime, the survivors of the Sylters rejoiced greatly, and as is their manner (and as ours is) chiefly by feasting. They ate all the dried fish with which the Rantum fishermen had decorated themselves and what remained of the suppers their wives had made; and a man from Archsum having a number of cheeses with him (they were indeed giants, and would be invaluable in any commissariat), they ate them all too. Dann gingen sie mit ihren Weibern vergnügt nach Hause. And this prosaically ends the long account of the great battle.
The next day the heroes were buried, and their mounds may be seen to this day-a fact that must have considerably assisted the venerable Inken Nessen's memory, when she was telling her strange tale. Sylt is simply studded with funeral mounds, underground dwellings, and hillocks and valleys, with legends attaching to them. Several of the mounds have been opened. In the Katzhügel, where the “Westerland Cats" were buried, urus, daggers, and rings have been found ; a glass urn was found in the Barminghügeln, as above mentioned ; and very many other mounds have been opened. The list of Hansen's own pickings fills six pages of small type at the end of his Sagen, and his widow's house at Keitum is to this day, was in 1887, one of the most interesting archæological museums that could be visited. Hansen prepared also an interesting antiquarian map of Sylt, which is most invaluable to visitors, as it clearly indicates the site and local name of every field, or mound, or sandbank in the whole island. It is a model of sound archæological research, which has been judiciously imitated for Heligoland by Dr. Lindemann in his recent work on that island, though Heligoland affords nothing like the same archæological opportunities and attractions as does the lanky island so dear to the old Keitum
schoolmaster. The mound where Bröns lies is about 26 feet high and 400 feet round, and is close to the Sylt lighthouse. Near it westward, is the small Brönshügel where his son lies. Still further west the King's dog and Niss, King of the Puks, are interred in smaller mounds. The majority of the warriors were interred in two long graves called the Kämper-Graben, or Giants' beds or Börder. These mounds are not so high as the large round Brönshügel, but larger, and set round with great stones ; the one is long and rounded, 90 feet long, 30 feet wide, and 10 feet high, and the other fourcornered, 135 feet long, 28 feet wide, and 4 feet high. The neighbouring village of Kampen is said to take its name from the fight, a derivation which has on the surface more probability than the origin given locally to the village of Braderup, which explains that when the people of that place went home after the battle, they said each to the other, “ Der Braten is auf,” hence Braderup. As Hansen remarks, with the dry humour which adds much to the pleasure of Sylt tales “ This explanation seems to me somewhat improbable, and to have been invented later.”
It appears that with the sweeping victory on the Morsum heath, the underground folk were not absolutely exterminated, and some of the survivors sought refuge, of all places in the world, in the comfortable beer-cellar of Niss, the smith, who had been before the war one of the loudest of those who complained of their depredations. Still, Niss found his beer miraculously disappeared. At last, one day his wife discovered one of the knavish little dwarfs in the cellar beside the tap. She gave him a scolding, and the dwarf promised to put such a blessing on the barrel that it should never be empty, provided no word of swearing was ever said over it, and that the wife kept the secret from her husband. Frau Niss readily promised. For a time all went well, but the smith was a thirsty soul and drank much, and this ever full barrel was as much a mystery to him as it was when it had become so speedily empty. One day he could not resist giving vent to his surprise, and called out, “This is indeed a Devil's Barrel which never gets empty.” The words had scarce left his lips when the barrel was dry, and the dwarfs began as before to steal beer and food, without giving any return for it. In this state of matters Niss's wife told him what had occurred, and he and she had long and earnest conversation with their neighbours as to how their dangerous guests were to be got rid of. Some advised one thing, and some another. At last came an old dame who in her youth had often played with the dwarfs, and told Niss how these tiny folk were powerless before the Cross, or anything that resembled a cross, They could not get over it, or through it, or under it; they must flee before it, or die. Then came the advice. The smith must set a cart wheel before each door, then set his house on fire, and see what would happen. It was bold advice, possible only in primitive times, but the smith had faith. He placed wheels before his doors, and set fire to his house. Immediately there appeared all the dwarfs at the doors eager to escape. But they could not. The spokes of the wheels represented a cross, and though they stuck their little hands through and cried for help, yet out they could not get, and all were burned. As they were in their agony, they perceived the old woman who had given the advice to Niss, and cried out to her, “Spölke, Spölke, wat heest dü üüs forrat !” (Playmate, playmate, how hast thou betrayed us !) That was the last of the underground folk in Sylt. As Sylt did not become entirely Christian till 1400, the story of the dwarfs' aversion to the Cross may not be very old after all ; there was probably a story circulating amongst the remanent heathen for years prior to that as to the power of the emblem to which the Christian portions of the island attached mystical importance. But, as a matter of fact, the mention of the cart takes us to an entirely different class of beliefs, and probably the reason assigned for the efficacy of the wheels-viz., that the spokes formed a cross-—is a comparatively modern gloss.
Sylt sailors have a legend which compares the heavens to the roof of a great house, of which the earth is the foundation. Every night the sun disappears at the western edge of the roof (bi Wester Okken), and then it becomes the property of the maidens who have died unmarried, and they cut the sun into little bits, which the young men who died bachelors have constantly to go up and down a ladder sticking into the roof's corners to give light during the night.
English sailors still tell the tale of the Mary Dun of Dover, whose boom was so big that it would alternately sweep the cliffs of Dover and the coast of Calais, whose captain, or men, for versions vary, went about on horses, and whose masts were so tall that those who clambered aloft as boys came back as grey-haired men. Most marvellous of all, this ship had three decks and no bottom. This legend is found in all perfection, and with much detail, among the Frisians. A curious variant of the story, from the Lapps, is contained in the notes to Jones and Kropf's “Magyar Folk Tales,” p. 361, which recounts how once upon a time there was a pot so large that when cooking was going on at one end, little boys were skating at the other. One of the men to whom the pot belonged set to work to make a pair of shoes for his comrade, and used up