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The Metal King

from Good Stories For Great Holidays - LABOR DAY





A GERMAN FOLE-TALE

(ADAPTED)

Once long ago there was a high mountain whose rocks were veined with
gold and silver and seamed with iron. At times, from a huge rent in the
mountain-side, there shot out roaring, red flames, and clouds of black
smoke. And when the village folk in the valley below saw this, they
would say: "Look! the Metal King is at his forge." For they knew that in
the gloomy heart of the mountain, the Metal King and his Spirits of the
Mines wrought in gold and iron.

When the storm raged over the valley, the Metal King left his cavern
and riding on the wings of the wind, with thundering shouts, hurled
his red-hot bolts into the valley, now killing the peasants and their
cattle, now burning houses and barns.

But when the weather was soft and mild, and the breezes blew gently
about the mouth of his cavern, the Metal King returned to his forge in
the depths of the mountain, and there shaped ploughshares and many other
implements of iron. These he placed outside his cavern door, as gifts to
the poor peasants.

It happened, on a time, there lived in that valley a lazy lad, who
would neither till his fields nor ply a trade. He was avaricious, but he
longed to win gold without mining, and wealth and fame without labor. So
it came to pass that he set out one day to find the mountain treasure of
the Metal King.

Taking a lighted lantern in one hand, a hatchet in the other, and a
bundle of twigs under his arm, he entered the dark cavern. The dampness
smote his cheek, bats flapped their wings in his face. Shivering with
fear and cold, he pressed on through a long passage under an arched
and blackened roof. As he passed along he dropped his twigs, one after
another, so that they might guide him aright when he returned.

He came at last to a place where the passage branched off in two
directions,--to the right and to the left. Choosing the right-hand path,
he walked on and at length came to an iron door. He struck it twice with
his hammer. It flew open, and a strong current of air rushing forth put
out his light.

"Come in! Come in!" shouted a voice like the rolling of thunder, and the
cavern echoes gave back the sounds.

Almost overcome by terror and shivering in every limb, the lad entered.
As he stepped forward a dazzling light shone from the vaulted roof
upheld by massive columns, and across the crystal side-walls flittered
curious, shadowy figures.

The Metal King, huge and fierce-eyed, surrounded by the misshapen
Spirits of the Mines, sat upon a block of pure silver, with a pile of
shining gold lying before him.

"Come in, my friend!" he shouted again, and again the echoes rolled
through the cavern.

"Come near, and sit beside me."

The lad advanced, pale and trembling, and took his seat upon the silver
block.

"Bring out more treasure," cried the Metal King, and at his command the
Mountain Spirits fluttered away like dreams, only to return in a moment
and pile high before the wondering lad bars of red gold, mounds of
silver coin, and stacks of precious jewels.

And when the lad saw all that wealth he felt his heart burst with
longing to grasp it, but when he tried to put out his hand, he found
that he could not move his arm, nor could he lift his feet, nor turn his
head.

"Thou seest these riches," said the Metal King; "they are but a handful
compared with those thou mayest gain if thou wilt work with us in the
mines. Hard is the service but rich the reward! Only say the word, and
for a year and a day thou shalt be a Mountain Spirit."

"Nay," stammered the lad, in great terror, "nay, I came not to work. All
I beg of thee is one bar of gold and a handful of the jewels that lie
here. If they are mine I can dress better than the village lads, and
ride in my own coach!"

"Lazy, ungrateful wretch!" cried the Metal King, rising from his seat,
while his figure seemed to tower until his head touched the cavern roof,
"wouldst thou seize without pay the treasures gained through the hard
labor of my Mountain Spirits! Hence! Get thee gone to thy place! Seek
not here for unearned riches! Cast away thy discontented disposition and
thou shalt turn stones into gold. Dig well thy garden and thy fields,
sow them and tend them diligently, search the mountain-sides; and thou
shalt gain through thine industry mines of gold and silver!"

Scarcely had the Metal King spoken when there was heard a screeching
as of ravens, a crying as of night owls, and a mighty storm wind came
rushing against the lad; and catching him up it drove him forth along
the dark passage, and down the mountain-side, so that in a minute he
found himself on the steps of his own house.

And from that time on a strange change came over the lad. He no longer
idled and dreamed of sudden wealth, but morning, noon, and evening
he labored diligently, sowing his fields, cultivating his garden,
and mining on the mountain-side. Years came and went; all he touched
prospered, and he grew to be the richest man in that country; but never
again did he see the Metal King or the Spirits of the Mines.





Next: The Choice Of Hercules

Previous: Arachne



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