The Black Valley lies deep within the mountains. What it is now called we do not know.At that time the people of the country gave it this appellation on account of the deep obscurity in which the low land lay, owing to the shadows of the lofty trees, and especially firs, that grew there.Even the brook which bubbled between the rocks wore the same dark hue, and dashed along with none of that gladness with which streams are wont to fow that have the blue sky immediately above them.Now, in the growing twilight of evening, it looked wild and gloomy between the heights.The knight trotted anxiously along the edge of the brook, fearful at one moment that by delay he might allow the fugitive to advance too far, and at the next that by too great rapidity he might overlook her in case she were concealing herself from him.Meanwhile he had already penetrated tolerably far into the valley, and might soon hope to overtake the maiden, if he were on the right track.The fear that this might not be the case made his heart beat with anxiety.Where would the tender Bertalda tarry through the stormy night, which was so fearful in the valley, should he fail to find her?At length he saw something white gleaming through the branches on the slope of the mountain.He thought he recognized Bertalda's dress, and he turned his course in that direction.But his horse refused to go forward；it reared impatiently；and its master, unwilling to lose a moment, and seeing moreover that the copse was impassable on horseback, dismounted；and, fastening his snorting steed to an elm-tree, he worked his way cautiously through the bushes.The branches sprinkled his forehead and cheeks with the cold drops of the evening dew；a distant roll of thunder was heard murmuring from the other side of the mountains；everything looked so strange that he began to feel a dread of the white fgure, which now lay only a short distance from him on the ground.Still he could plainly see that it was a female, either asleep or in a swoon, and that she was attired in long white garments, such as Bertalda had worn on that day.He stepped close up to her, made a rustling with the branches, and let his sword clatter, but she moved not.
“Bertalda!”he exclaimed, at first in a low voice, and then louder and louder—still she heard not. At last, when he uttered the dear name with a more powerful effort, a hollow echo from the mountain-caverns of the valley indistinctly reverberated“Bertalda!”but still the sleeper woke not.He bent down over her；the gloom of the valley and the obscurity of approaching night would not allow him to distinguish her features.Just as he was stooping closer over her, with a feeling of painful doubt, a fash of lightning shot across the valley, and he saw before him a frightfully distorted countenance, and a hollow voice exclaimed：“Give me a kiss, you enamoured swain!”
Huldbrand sprang up with a cry of horror, and the hideousfgure rose with him.“Go home!”it murmured；“wizards are on the watch. Go home!or I will have you!”and it stretched out its long white arms toward him.
“Malicious Kuhleborn!”cried the knight, recovering himself,“What do you concern me, you goblin?There, take your kiss!”And he furiously hurled his sword at the fgure. But it vanished like vapor, and a gush of water which wetted him through left the knight no doubt as to the foe with whom he had been engaged.
“He wishes to frighten me back from Bertalda,”said he aloud to himself；“he thinks to terrify me with his foolish tricks, and to make me give up the poor distressed girl to him, so that he can wreak his vengeance on her. But he shall not do that, weak spirit of the elements as he is.No powerless phantom can understand what a human heart can do when its best energies are aroused.”He felt the truth of his words, and that the very expression of them had inspired his heart with fresh courage.It seemed too as if fortune were on his side, for he had not reached his fastened horse, when he distinctly heard Bertalda's plaintive voice not far distant, and could catch her weeping accents through the ever-increasing tumult of the thunder and tempest.He hurried swiftly in the direction of the sound, and found the trembling girl just attempting to climb the steep, in order to escape in any way from the dreadful gloom of the valley.He stepped, however, lovingly in her path, and bold and proud as her resolve had before been, she now felt only too keenly the delight, that the friend whom she so passionately loved should rescue her from this frightful solitude, and that the joyous life in the castle should be again open to her.She followed almost unresisting, but soexhausted with fatigue that the knight was glad to have brought her to his horse, which he now hastily unfastened, in order to lift the fair fugitive upon it；and then, cautiously holding the reins, he hoped to proceed through the uncertain shades of the valley.
But the horse had become quite unmanageable from the wild apparition of Kuhleborn. Even the knight would have had diffculty in mounting the rearing and snorting animal, but to place the trembling Bertalda on its back was perfectly impossible.They determined, therefore, to return home on foot.Drawing the horse after him by the bridle, the knight supported the tottering girl with his other hand.Bertalda exerted all her strength to pass quickly through the fearful valley, but weariness weighed her down like lead, and every limb trembled, partly from the terror she had endured when Kuhleborn had pursued her, and partly from her continued alarm at the howling of the storm and the pealing of the thunder through the wooded mountain.
At last she slid from the supporting arm of her protector, and sinking down on the moss, she exclaimed：“Let me lie here, my noble lord；I suffer the punishment due to my folly, and I must now perish here through weariness and dread.”
“No, sweet friend, I will never leave you!”cried Huldbrand, vainly endeavoring to restrain his furious steed；for, worse than before, it now began to foam and rear with excitement, until at last the knight was glad to keep the animal at a suffcient distance from the exhausted maiden lest her fears should be increased. But scarcely had he withdrawn a few paces with the wild steed, than she began to call after him in the most pitiful manner, believing that he was really goingto leave her in this horrible wilderness.He was utterly at a loss what course to take.Gladly would he have given the excited beast its liberty and have allowed it to rush away into the night and spend its fury, had he not feared that is this narrow defle it might come thundering with its iron-shod hoofs over the very spot where Bertalda lay.
In the midst of this extreme perplexity and distress, he heard with delight the sound of a vehicle driving slowly down the stony road behind them. He called out for help；and a man's voice replied, bidding him have patience, but promising assistance；and soon after, two gray horses appeared through the bushes, and beside them the driver in the white smock of a carter；a great white linen cloth was next visible, covering the goods apparently contained in the wagon.At a loud shout from their master, the obedient horses halted.The driver then came toward the knight, and helped him in restraining his foaming animal.
“I see well,”said he,“what ails the beast. When I frst travelled this way, my horses were no better.The fact is, there is an evil water-spirit haunting the place, and he takes delight in this sort of mischief.But I have learned a charm；if you will let me whisper it in your horse's ear, he will stand at once just as quiet as my gray beasts are doing there.”
“Try your luck then, only help us quickly!”exclaimed the impatient knight. The wagoner then drew down the head of the rearing charger close to his own, and whispered something in his ear.In a moment the animal stood still and quiet, and his quick panting and reeking condition was all that remained of his previous unmanageableness.Huldbrand had no time to inquire how all thishad been effected.He agreed with the carter that he should take Bertalda on his wagon, where, as the man assured him, there were a quantity of soft cotton-bales, upon which she could be conveyed to castle Ringstetten, and the knight was to accompany them on horseback.But the horse appeared too much exhausted by its past fury to be able to carry its master so far, so the carter persuaded Huldbrand to get into the wagon with Bertalda.The horse could be fastened on behind.
“We are going down hill,”said he,“and that will make it light for my gray beasts.”The knight accepted the offer and entered the wagon with Bertalda；the horse followed patiently behind, and the wagoner, steady and attentive, walked by the side.
In the stillness of the night, as its darkness deepened and the subsiding tempest sounded more and more remote, encouraged by the sense of security and their fortunate escape, a confidential conversation arose between Huldbrand and Bertalda. With fattering words he reproached her for her daring fight；she excused herself with humility and emotion, and from every word she said a gleam shone forth which disclosed distinctly to the lover that the beloved was his.The knight felt the sense of her words far more than he regarded their meaning, and it was the sense alone to which he replied.Presently the wagoner suddenly shouted with loud voice,—
“Up, my grays, up with your feet, keep together!remember who you are!”
The knight leaned out of the wagon and saw that the horses were stepping into the midst of a foaming stream or were already almost swimming, while the wheels of the wagon were rushinground and gleaming like mill-wheels, and the wagoner had got up in front, in consequence of the increasing waters.
“What sort of a road is this?It goes into the middle of the stream.”cried Huldbrand to his guide.
“Not at all, sir.”returned the other, laughing,“it is just the reverse, the stream goes into the very middle of our road. Look round and see how everything is covered by the water.”The whole valley indeed was suddenly flled with the surging food, that visibly increased.
“It is Kuhleborn, the evil water-spirit, who wishes to drown us!”exclaimed the knight.“Have you no charm, against him, my friend?”“I know indeed of one,”returned the wagoner,“but I cannot and may not use it until you know who I am.”“Is this a time for riddles?”cried the knight.“The food is ever rising higher, and what does it matter to me to know who you are?”
“It does matter to you, though,”said the wagoner,“for I am Kuhleborn.”So saying, he thrust his distorted face into the wagon with a grin, but the wagon was a wagon no longer, the horses were not horses—all was transformed to foam and vanished in the hissing waves, and even the wagoner himself, rising as a gigantic billow, drew down the vainly struggling horse beneath the waters, and then swelling higher and higher, swept over the heads of the foating pair, like some liquid tower, threatening to bury them irrecoverably.
Just then the soft voice of Undine sounded through the uproar, the moon emerged from the clouds, and by its light Undine was seen on the heights above the valley. She rebuked, she threatened the floods below；the menacing, tower-like wave vanished, mutteringand murmuring, the waters flowed gently away in the moonlight, and like a white dove, Undine flew down from the height, seized the knight and Bertalda, and bore them with her to a fresh, green, turfy spot on the hill, where with choice refreshing restoratives, she dispelled their terrors and weariness；then she assisted Bertalda to mount the white palfrey, on which she had herself ridden here, and thus all three returned back to castle Ringstetten.
