And then she wiped Gerda's eyes and put her own hands
into the beautiful muff, which was so soft and warm. The coach stopped in the courtyard of a robber's castle, the walls of
which were full of cracks from top to bottom. Ravens and crows flew in
and out of the holes and crevices, while great bulldogs, each of which
looked as if it could swallow a man, were jumping about; but they were
not allowed to bark. In the large old smoky hall a bright fire was burning on the stone
floor. There was no chimney, so the smoke went up to the ceiling and
found a way out for itself. Soup was boiling in a large cauldron, and
hares and rabbits were roasting on the spit. "You shall sleep with me and all my little animals to-night," said the
robber girl after they had had something to eat and drink. So she took
Gerda to a corner of the hall where some straw and carpets were laid
down. Above them, on laths and perches, were more than a hundred pigeons
that all seemed to be asleep, although they moved slightly when the two
little girls came near them. "These all belong to me," said the robber
girl, and she seized the nearest to her, held it by the feet, and shook
it till it flapped its wings. "Kiss it," cried she, flapping it in
Gerda's face. "There sit the wood pigeons," continued she, pointing to a number of
laths and a cage which had been fixed into the walls, near one of the
openings. "Both rascals would fly away directly, if they were not
closely locked up. And here is my old sweetheart 'Ba,'" and she dragged
out a reindeer by the horn; he wore a bright copper ring round his neck
and was tethered to the spot. "We are obliged to hold him tight too,
else he would run away from us also. I tickle his neck every evening
with my sharp knife, which frightens him very much." And the robber girl
drew a long knife from a chink in the wall and let it slide gently over
the reindeer's neck. The poor animal began to kick, and the little
robber girl laughed and pulled down Gerda into bed with her. "Will you have that knife with you while you are asleep?" asked Gerda,
looking at it in great fright. "I always sleep with the knife by me," said the robber girl. "No one
knows what may happen. But now tell me again all about little Kay, and
why you went out into the world." Then Gerda repeated her story over again, while the wood pigeons in the
cage over her cooed, and the other pigeons slept. The little robber girl
put one arm across Gerda's neck, and held the knife in the other, and
was soon fast asleep and snoring. But Gerda could not close her eyes at
all; she knew not whether she was to live or to die. The robbers sat
round the fire, singing and drinking. It was a terrible sight for a
little girl to witness. Then the wood pigeons said: "Coo, coo, we have seen little Kay. A white
fowl carried his sledge, and he sat in the carriage of the Snow Queen,
which drove through the wood while we were lying in our nest. She blew
upon us, and all the young ones died, excepting us two. Coo, coo." "What are you saying up there?" cried Gerda. "Where was the Snow Queen
going? Do you know anything about it?" "She was most likely traveling to Lapland, where there is always snow
and ice. Ask the reindeer that is fastened up there with a rope." "Yes, there is always snow and ice," said the reindeer, "and it is a
glorious place; you can leap and run about freely on the sparkling icy
plains. The Snow Queen has her summer tent there, but her strong castle
is at the North Pole, on an island called Spitzbergen." "O Kay, little Kay!" sighed Gerda. "Lie still," said the robber girl, "or you shall feel my knife." In the morning Gerda told her all that the wood pigeons had said, and
the little robber girl looked quite serious, and nodded her head and
said: "That is all talk, that is all talk. Do you know where Lapland
is?" she asked the reindeer. "Who should know better than I do?" said the animal, while his eyes
sparkled. "I was born and brought up there and used to run about the
snow-covered plains." "Now listen," said the robber girl; "all our men are gone away; only
mother is here, and here she will stay; but at noon she always drinks
out of a great bottle, and afterwards sleeps for a little while; and
then I'll do something for you." She jumped out of bed, clasped her
mother round the neck, and pulled her by the beard, crying, "My own
little nanny goat, good morning!" And her mother pinched her nose till
it was quite red; yet she did it all for love. When the mother had gone to sleep the little robber maiden went to the
reindeer and said: "I should like very much to tickle your neck a few
times more with my knife, for it makes you look so funny, but never
mind--I will untie your cord and set you free, so that you may run away
to Lapland; but you must make good use of your legs and carry this
little maiden to the castle of the Snow Queen, where her playfellow is. You have heard what she told me, for she spoke loud enough, and you were
listening." The reindeer jumped for joy, and the little robber girl lifted Gerda on
his back and had the forethought to tie her on and even to give her her
own little cushion to sit upon. "Here are your fur boots for you," said she, "for it will be very cold;
but I must keep the muff, it is so pretty. However, you shall not be
frozen for the want of it; here are my mother's large warm mittens; they
will reach up to your elbows. Let me put them on. There, now your hands
look just like my mother's." But Gerda wept for joy. "I don't like to see you fret," said the little robber girl. "You ought
to look quite happy now. And here are two loaves and a ham, so that you
need not starve." These were fastened upon the reindeer, and then the little robber maiden
opened the door, coaxed in all the great dogs, cut the string with
which the reindeer was fastened, with her sharp knife, and said, "Now
run, but mind you take good care of the little girl." And Gerda
stretched out her hand, with the great mitten on it, toward the little
robber girl and said "Farewell," and away flew the reindeer over stumps
and stones, through the great forest, over marshes and plains, as
quickly as he could. The wolves howled and the ravens screamed, while up
in the sky quivered red lights like flames of fire. "There are my old
northern lights," said the reindeer; "see how they flash!" And he ran on
day and night still faster and faster, but the loaves and the ham were
all eaten by the time they reached Lapland. SIXTH STORY

THE LAPLAND WOMAN AND THE FINLAND WOMAN

They stopped at a little hut; it was very mean looking. The roof sloped
nearly down to the ground, and the door was so low that the family had
to creep in on their hands and knees when they went in and out. There
was no one at home but an old Lapland woman who was dressing fish by the
light of a train-oil lamp. The reindeer told her all about Gerda's story after having first told
his own, which seemed to him the most important.