Once upon a time there lived in the far north a skillful hunter who trapped a great white bear. Seeing that the creature was noble and strong, the hunter decided he would tame it and take it to the king of Denmark as a gift.
The hunter and the bear trudged along on their long, difficult journey to the king. On Christmas Eve they arrived in a place called the Dovrafell. This was a wild, windy moor, filled with heather and rock, but no place for shelter. The wind howled and the sky threatened snow." 'Tis Christmas Eve," said the man to the bear, "and it would be good to settle somewhere warm and comfortable on this night."
And then in the distance the hunter saw a light. He was glad, for he could see that snow would fall soon. When they arrived at the house, they knocked on the door. The man of the house answered.
"I wonder if we might have a room for the night, my bear and I?"
"I wish I could welcome you," said the man, whose name was Halvor. "But for the past many years, we have had a bad time in this house every Christmas.
"Ahh, it is so cold here in the Dovrafell," said the hunter.
Halvor nodded. "That it is," he said, "but I must warn you. Every Christmas a pack of trolls comes down upon us and we all must leave this house. For seven years we have had nothing to ourselves on Christmas, not even the children. The trolls come and destroy it all."
The hunter listened and nodded. "Sir," said he, "my bear and I are not afraid of trolls, and my bear is a quiet fellow. He will lie under your stove, and I can sleep anywhere."
Halvor shook his head, but when he heard the wind shriek and howl, he could not refuse. And so the hunter and the bear moved in and settled down. The woman of the house was cooking Christmas supper. The three children helped her. The hunter watched and was puzzled, for no one in the whole house smiled.
The family and their guests enjoyed a fine meal, and soon everyone went to sleep. Still no one smiled.
The next day, Christmas Day, the family once again sat down to feast, and sure enough, suddenly a pack of trolls appeared. They were big and little creatures. Some were hairy with long, thin tails, and some had noses long as pokers. Some had bulging eyes and some had 20 toes. In they came - crashing through the door, sliding down the chimney, crawling through the windows. They shouted and cried. They banged pots and pans. They twirled their tails and tapped their toes upon the wooden floor.
Halvor and his wife and children fled in fright.
The hunter sat hidden in the corner. He was not afraid. He wanted to see what would happen. He watched as the trolls gobbled the food and threw the plates and drank everything in sight. They continued to shout and scream, to scratch the walls and pound the floors and slap their tails upon the table.
The tiny trolls were the worst of all. They screamed at the top of their lungs and pulled each other's tails. They climbed up the curtains and threw great jars of jam and fished the pickles from their crocks.
Still the hunter and the bear sat quietly, watching.
Suddenly one of the little trolls spotted the bear. He grabbed a piece of sausage and stuck it on a fork. Then he walked to the stove where the bear lay. "Here pussy, pussy," he screeched, and he poked the fork against the white bear's tender nose. The bear opened his mouth and the little troll pulled away the fork and howled with laughter.
The great white bear did not like this at all. He growled deeply. His eyes grew dark with fury. Slowly he crawled out from beneath the stove and growled once more. The house shook with the sound, and the little troll screamed.
Then the bear lunged, and in a moment the whole pack of trolls had dashed out of the house.
The hunter stepped from his hiding place in the corner. He patted and praised his bear. He fed him a big piece of sausage. Then he went to the door and called to Halvor and his family, who were hiding in the woodshed. "Come and make merry," he cried.
The family returned. They were amazed to see that the trolls were gone. The hunter told them what had happened.
Together they all helped to clean up the mess, and soon after everyone was eating and drinking and making merry, celebrating the best Christmas of all.
The next day the hunter and the great white bear set off once again on their long journey to the king.
One year passed, and once again it was a cold and windy Christmas Eve. Just before sunset Halvor stood on the Dovrafell moor near a stand of scrub trees, chopping up all the wood that he would need for the holiday. He stopped to rest and leaned against his ax. Suddenly he heard a voice calling to him. "Halvor, Halvor, Halvor . . ."
He turned and called, "Who is it? What is it you want?" He saw no one at all.
The voice called again. "Do you still have your great white cat, Halvor?"
Halvor smiled to himself. "That I do," he called back to the hidden creature. "She's at home under the stove, and she has seven kittens now. Each one is bigger and fiercer than she."
The voice screeched and squealed. "You'll never see us anymore!" it cried.
Sure enough, he never did. And ever since that time no one has seen the Trolls of Dovrafell.
- "The Trolls of Dovrafell" is a Norse tale from which Amabel Williams-Ellis derived her story "The Great White Cat." Today's tale was in turn adapted from that version. Williams-Ellis was born in England in 1898 to a literary family. Married to an architect, Sir Clough Williams-Ellis, she spent many years studying science but is best known for her storytelling and her collections of stories. She traveled extensively and collected tales from everywhere, paying special attention to local versions of these stories and taking care to find out as much as she could about their history and sources. In her work, she hoped to help people learn more about countries other than their own. Lady Williams-Ellis died in 1984 at the age of 86, but her stories live on.
1993 Universal Press Syndicate