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Chap. LIL
BONDEVEDDE AND THE TROLLES.
333
howled, and tried to get out; the women on their side
screamed, for they fancied it was their neighbour who
was burning; but Bondevedde took them aside, and
showed them his wife safe in bed with a fine boy, born
since she was moved out of window. So the farmer
and his wife were left in peace for some time after.
However, the Trolles recovered from the effects of their
defeat, and one day as Bondevedde passed near the høi
he overheard one of them say, “ Bondevedde’s wife will
brew her ale to-morrow ; let us go and steal it!” When
the ale was brewed, Bondevedde took a kettle of
boiling water, and, calling together all his farm-men, said
to them, “ Get your stoutest sticks, and wherever I pour
the water there do you lay to lustily.”
When the Trolles came, Bondevedde poured the
scalding water on their heads, and the farm-men laid
to with all their might and main; so they ran off,
scalded and beaten, burrowing like moles underground,
leaving behind them an iron hook they carried with
them to hang the cask of ale upon. This iron hook
Bondevedde gave to the church of Rø, and out of it was
made the massive iron hinges on which the door hangs.
The Trolles, now highly wroth, determined to make
away with their enemy; so one day as he rode by
he saw the Trolles dancing in a ring round the høi
under which they dwelt. “ Stop, Bondevedde,” they
cried, “stop and have something to drink.” The
farmer earned about him his own silver cup, and the
Trolles filled it with a golden liquid like hydromel.
Bondevedde held his cup high, making semblance to
drink to their health, at the same time tossing the
contents over his right shoulder: some of the liquid
fell upon his horse’s haunches, and the hair and skin
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