The Portland daily press., 1895-06-03
THE WITCH'S CITADEL.
By CARMEN SYLVIA Queen Of Rou-
nania).


Carpathians, from the rapid stream of
the Prahova river, the mountain, Baba
Cetatia, or the Witch's Citadel, is con-
cealed from view, as it lies behind the
Bulegi, where it rises conelike, and has
the appearance Of being covered with
ruins on it's summit.
Beyond these ruins extend afar the
regions of perpetual snow, which are
bounded by the Businesses of the Jipi,
Or twin mountains. A very, very long
time ago, at that period when the lion
would lie down with the lamb and
when the fierce eagle would made with
the tender dove, there stood there a
proud and lordly castle which was the
center Of continual movement. Many
persons came and went the long day
through, and active feet frequently
crossed its threshold. A brilliant light
burned there throughout the night, and
above the constant humming of spin
die might be heard the chanting of a
sweet, weirdlike melody.
The passersby would glance upward
with looks Of terror, while they muir
INJURED, "She is still at her spinning,
thenl" For the Baba, or witch, was the
keeper of the castle and was wicked
old sorceress, to whom the gnomes
brought nightly huge nuggets of gold,
gathered from the bowels of the earth.
From this gold it was that she spun the
beteela, or long streams of gold thread,
which form the head adornment of ev-
cry Roumanian bride during the mar
riage ceremony.
Many bushels Of gold were measured
and sorted by her at dead Of night, and
woe to the unluoky earth spirit whose
measure was found wanting, for he must
expiate his fault by being thrust be-
twixt the trunk and bark of gigantic
forest oak, which held and pressed him
until he rendered up the last grain Of
the precious metal, or perhaps he would
be affixed to tree by his beard and
might writhe and shrek to his heart s
content, for the Baba would turn deaf
ear to all lamentations. Because of this
hardness Of character, and also because
her exterior was as hard aud dry and as
wrinkled and gnarled as knotted oak,
she had been surnamed Baba Coaja, or
Old Mother Bark. ~
4 Twas she alone who possessed the Sc
cret gift Of spinning these beteela, of
which she had prepared and laid upiso
large "a store that 1t would suffice for
many centuries to come.
/ This Baba Coaja was blessed with a
sweet young. daughter named Alba, a
maiden of surprising beauty, white as
the snow which spread its eternal man
tie over the mountain's g summit Deli
cate as the bloom on ripening peach
was her cheek, her soft brewn eyes like
velvet, and her hair more golden than
the threads spun by her terrible mother.
Alba was always kept carefully con-
cealed from the sight Of men, for the
Baba feared that any one, on seeing her,
should ask her hand in marriage, and
that she might thus be deprived of her
chief aid, for Alba was skillful and
lightened her labor. She it was who
wound off the wefts Of thread and ar
ranged it in piles, each pile of which
contained sufficient beteela for the
needs Of brides for century to come.
Her task was wearisome, the more so
because her mother, while she spun,
chanted the most terrible maledictions
and evil wishes to fall on the heads of
the brides who were destined to wear
these beteela.
Alba's heart was heaving when she
thought with sorrow Of all the adver-
sity which was being prepared before
hand for innocent heads, and she set
about to form a plan for averting it.
During the absence Of her mother one
day she placed herself at the spindle
and spun whole piece of gold, her
mind only occupied the while with
wishes for happiness and good fortune
for those who might wear it. On her
return Baba Coaja soon discovered this,
and flinging herself in great rage upon
her daughter and beating her threw on
the ground in heap all the golden
wells, crying out:
"Never shalt thou marry until thou
hast singled out thy own work from
among that Of the rest" The Baba in
| reality was very glad to have found
pretext for keeping her daughter with
her, more especially as it had been fore
told that Alba was destined to misfor-
tune and an early death.
This lovely child was the sole creature
in the whole world whom she loved, but
is spite of the efforts she now made to
render Alba oontented and happy, and
the costly gifts lavished on her, nothing
could bring back tile color to her cheeks
or the light to her eyes, for the only
boon which she crsved, her liberty, was
now denied to her.
With ardent longing she desired,
we're it but for an hour or two, to stroll
under the shade Of the majestic old
trees which grew and spread out their
branches at the foot of the mountain, on
whose summit she vogetated.
Here, on the high peak, only short
stubbly grass meagerly clothed its black
crest, and here the cruel winter time
was of much longer duration than that
of summer. She grew sad and detected
as the wind howled and stormed, shak-