Sunday, January 22, 2012

Loki and Thor Travel to Gerroedsgard

Thor Travels to Gerrödsgard


Loki, the sly one, often brought his comrades into unpleasant predicaments.


Once he stole Frouwa’s feather dress out of boredom and flew through the world as brilliantly-plumed falcon. From the air he saw thick clouds of smoke rising out of an enormous tree. Filled with curiosity he flew closer and saw that the tree was part of the stronghold of the giant Geirröd. “Perhaps I shall find a tasty meal here,” Loki thought and alighted on the windowsill so he could catch a glimpse inside. When the giant discovered the beautiful falcon, he immediately commanded the capture of the rare bird. Before he knew what was happening, Loki was captured by the giant king.


The giant king looked deep into the eyes of the bird and knew immediately that this was no ordinary falcon but a higher being. Because Loki did not say a word about his origins, the giant king locked him in a cage and let him starve. It took three months before Loki admitted where he came from. The king was very happy that he finally had a surety over the gods of Asen and decided not to let this opportunity slip by. When Loki asked to be released, the king replied that he could return to Asgard if he promised to bring Thor back to Gerrödsgard without his hammer or any other weapons.


Loki promised everything so desperate was he to regain his freedom. He was also so crafty that he was able to lure the good-natured Thor back to Gerrödsgard without his weapons. On the way Thor met the giantess Grid, who saw through Gerröd’s intentions and gave Thor three weapons: a belt that bestowed strength on the wearer, a pair of iron gloves and a staff.


Both Thor and Loki soon detected how treacherous Gerröd’s plans were. First they came to the wide and turbulent Wimur River and had to wade through the rushing floods. Thor fastened his strength-giving belt, took the staff of the giantess against the waves and stepped confidently into the stream. When they had both reached the middle of the stream, the water surged up dangerously around them. The god thundered into the crashing waves: “Do not surge, Wimur. I am wading to the giant’s house! If you surge, my godly strength shall surge to the heavens!”


Thor saw how Gerröd’s daughter Gialp stood on the river bank and caused the turbulence of the river. Quickly he seized a granite block from the river bed and drove away the malicious maiden. He grasped the branches of a rowan (bird-berry) tree standing on shore and pulled himself onto land. The old adage reminds us of this feat: “The rowan tree is Thor’s salvation.”


After wandering a short time, Thor and Loki now entered the fortress of the giants. Fatigued, Thor sank onto the only chair in the great hall. He had hardly taken his seat when he noticed that he was being lifted higher and higher. Finally he was only a small distance from the ceiling and would soon be crushed. He didn’t wait long. Pushing against the ceiling he pressed the chair down to the floor again. A loud crashing sound and loud screams revealed that something was caught under the chair. He looked down and found both of the giant’s daughters lying lifelessly underneath with broken necks.


Thor was now summoned by a servant of Gerröd himself. When he entered the hall he saw flames rising up the walls and chambers. Before he could look around, a burning iron wedge came flying at him, catapulted by Gerröd’s own hand. Any other would have been destroyed. Thor caught the burning iron in his iron-gloved hand and threw it back with such force, that the wedge not only bore through the pillar, which the giant quickly fled behind, but also hit the giant in the middle of his heart, continuing on with such force that it penetrated the wall behind the giant and became embedded in the earth beyond.
The giant lay dead on the ground. Thor propped up the giant who now became petrified into stone. The giant stood for centuries in this position and Germanic tribes believed  the site was a testament to the violent power of the thunder god.


According to Uhland, Gerröd the giant represents the unbearable heat of high summer that burns like fire. The giant’s two daughters are the flooding of mountain streams after the heavy storms of midsummer. The harmful manifestations of weather are not caused by Thor, but by evil giants. That is why the thunder god fights and neutralizes them.


FairyTaleChannel.com

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

A Latvian Fairy Tale about How Best to Handle a Witch


A Fairy Tale from Latvia: The Old Hag is Coming:
Five Days of Fairy Tales: Day 2

Once a harp player met the devil on one of his sojourns. The devil asked him: “Where are you going?” –
“I myself do not know,” was the reply. “They chased me away because my fingers became stiff!”
And so they walked together. They walked and walked until they met a bear. The bear asked: “Where are you two going?”
“We don’t know ourselves,” was the reply. We were chased away!”
“Dear brothers! Let us walk a while together. We all have the same fate. The other bears have also chased me away!”
They walked and walked and then they decided to build a house. So good, they built a house and drank a beer and then an entire barrel of beer. Suddenly they noticed that the beer in the barrel was receding. Now what? They decided to guard the barrel. The bear took over the first watch and crouched next to the barrel. Yes, it was only a matter of minutes before he saw an old woman approaching with a broad hatchet in her hand.
Now the bear broke off a tree and flung it at the old woman. But unfortunately only branches hit her: the old woman shook herself a bit and then raised the hatchet and struck the bear in its back. She hit him so miserably that the poor animal could only return home with the greatest effort. The next evening the devil stood watch. Again the old woman took aim. The devil threw stones into the woman’s face rather haphazardly. But the old woman aimed her hatchet at the devil, and he, too, only escaped under enormous effort.
Now the harp player went out in the middle of the night to guard the barrel. He sat down next to the barrel and played his harp. The old woman came and slithered up close to the player and listened intently with both ears, but the harp player continued playing. Finally the old woman was so pleased with the music that the hatchet fell from her hand. The harp player quickly seized the hatchet, took aim at the old woman and quickly chopped into the woman’s back. Then he buried her under the threshold of a house and lay down to sleep. When he awoke in the morning, he saw the blood of the old woman running into the house, and a young maid sat before it. The maiden spoke: “Why are you approaching? Don’t you know that an enormous robber lives here? But if you can raise this ball and this sword, you will be able to overcome the robbers.”
The harp player pulled and pulled, but could not lift up the ball or sword. “Don’t worry!” the maid said. “Here in the corner is a potion to give you strength. Take a sip!” The harp player drank and now he could lift the ball like a marble and the sword in his hands wasn’t much heavier than a shingle wood chip. He immediately lifted up the ball and flung it against the house door: the door now collapsed. Then he took the sword, killed the robber and led the maid back to the devil and bear, who was looking out the window and called out: “Friend, the old woman is coming, the old woman is coming!”  Both the devil and bear thought to themselves: “That terrible old woman, now she is coming to kill us both!” And they fled immediately. But the harp player lived alone in the house with his young bride.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Five Days of Fairy Tales: The Wandering Hunter


Grimm’s Saga No. 258: The Wandering Hunter

Now it happened that a forest-keeper was responsible for an enormous amount of timber and had to manage his forest.  This forest-keeper was later found shot dead. The nobleman who owned the forest assigned the work to another. But the same thing happened to him, and then to all his successors, one after another. Finally no one could be found who wanted to take over the dangerous forest. As soon as the new forester entered the brush, a shot could be heard in the distance. At the same time a bullet struck the man in the middle of the forehead and he fell to the ground. No trace could be found of the where or who the shot came from.
Nevertheless an itinerant huntsman volunteered for service. The nobleman did not conceal what had happened  and he explicitly stated that however much he desired the forest to be under supervision once again, he could not advise the huntsman to take up the service. The huntsman replied confidently, that he would know what to do against the invisible marksman, and would manage the forest. The next day he was first led into the wood accompanied by several others. In that moment a shot could be heard in the distance. The huntsman threw his hat up in the air and it was immediately struck by a bullet. “Now,” he said, “it’s my turn.” He loaded his gun and took aim saying “My bullet is bringing the response!” Then he asked his companions to go with him and find the marksman. After looking for a long time, they found the miller lying dead at the opposite end of the forest. A bullet had pierced his forehead.
This wandering hunter remained for some time in the service of the nobleman, but because he captured all the game, while the field hens flew from his pockets, because his shot was certain even from unbelievable distances and because he performed other unbelievable acts, the nobleman felt a kind of horror in his presence and soon dismissed him from his service under false pretext.

Monday, December 19, 2011

The Wild Tuerst and Straeggele of Christmas


From Switzerland: the Wild Tuerst and Straeggele of Christmas Tide

In ancient times a beautiful daughter of a rich man lived in the Entlibuch in the hill country outside of Luzerne. True, she had both beauty and riches, but the townspeople did not like her. It was because she led a wild, unseemly life. Instead of behaving properly like other girls, the young maid whistled through her fingers, called out to her hunting dog and then blew into her horn. Early in the morning she took off in hot pursuit of all manner of wild animals.  Deer and stag, even the ferocious wolf fled from her when she, raving, shouting and waving her spear, entered the forest.  Then her dog yapped loudly and from every mountain crevice came a terrifying echo.
The years passed in this manner and soon the wild maid no longer went to church. While other people were called to mass when the church bells rang, she took up the spear and ran with her dog into the forest to hunt the wild beasts. The town folk all shook their heads and said things would end badly for her. The demonic Tuerst would come and fetch the wanton maid, they murmured, when it flew through the forest like the storm wind.
One Christmas Eve there was a knock at the door where the rich daughter of Entlibach resided. When the servant opened he saw a young, slim man standing at the gate who asked for a night’s lodging. In the morning he said he would go out with the maid on a friendly hunt. Both man and maid servant recoiled when they heard these words, but they had to allow the late guest to enter the house, even if he did not appear to be a knight.
The beautiful daughter greeted the man with a loud “hello”. He replied that he loved the hunt above everything else. And so it was decided that the next morning the two would set out on Holy Christmas Eve to undertake a wolf hunt in the nearby mountain forest. The girl did indeed notice that the lean knight had not said from where he came, but she did not think long about it. The main thing was that she had found a handsome and agile hunting partner for the following day.
The next morning when the bells in the church tower rang out, villagers came from all around. All but the strange knight. He said to the maiden: “Leave these people, let them go into the church. Come! We shall go out on the hunt!”
So they were of good cheer, laughing and carousing, equipped with their spear and bow, they went out into the night accompanied only by the maid’s hunting dog. On their way to mass, the church folk passed the wild pair and watched how the revelers disappeared in the forest.
It was not long before they were deep within the dark wood. The maid was just about to take her spear and fling it after a deer, when her strange hunting companion gripped her raised arm and said in an icy voice and with eyes that burned through her like fire: “It is true I hunt the beasts of the forest, but you have never once listened to your conscience. You have committed sacrilege against God! Now you are mine and shall be like me! You shall fill people full of terror!”
He stretched upward and grew and grew into a giant. In revulsion the maid recognized that it was the Wild Tuerst. She screamed, she ran, how gladly she would have run into the church! But it was too late. The huntsman grew without stopping. She, too, grew alongside the fearsome hunter, until she was taller than the trees. The barking dog next to her also grew until he had become a monster. At once the wild Tuerst  began to storm across hill and dale, until it finally seemed as if all the wild creatures in the forest were raging.
The villagers, who were still making their way to church, witnessed the procession of these giant figures. They saw in the pale light how a dark abyss opened in the ground, and how it then swallowed the Tuerst and the Straeggele.  
After that Christmas Eve when the wild maid did not return home, word of her fate spread among the villagers. The Tuerst had fetched the Straeggele and the pair would now have to go out hunting until judgment day. For many years on starry winter evenings when the wind whistled around the houses, the villagers often saw two shadowy giants with their dog storming across the bleak sky. And if they heard a bell ring somewhere in the distance, they said it was the Straeggle – maid. But then the Tuerst only blew harder into his horn so that the villagers had to pull the coverlets over their eyes and hide in terror.

Read more fairy tales by clicking on the link:

FairyTaleChannel.com

Friday, December 16, 2011

A Selection of Christmas Fairy Tales

To help you navigate the various Christmas links on this blog, sort through the many different Christmas themes and perhaps provide impetus for further reading, here are some book notes from FairyTaleChannel.org. We wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens

Much has been written about the themes addressed in Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol. Many critics see it primarily as a condemnation of social injustice and poverty. But few have identified the many fairy tales, folk traditions and popular beliefs much of the story is based on. The whole notion of ghosts and spirits haunting the Christmas season comes from the world of the fairy tale, as does the idea of three spirits from the past, present and future illuminating and interpreting one’s destiny. See the links on this website to read more, in particular, the links for Ghosts, Ghost Theory and Norns.

Peter Pan, by J.M. Barrie

The story Peter Pan shares the major themes and plot points of the Doomed Prince, a tale from ancient Egypt. Hit the link Doomed Prince to read an original translation of this tale.

Too Much Happiness, by Alice Munro

So what does ghost theory have to do with this latest book of short stories by Alice Munro? The title story of this collection is based on the life of 19th century Russian mathematician Sophia Kovalesvsky, the first woman elected to the Russian Academy of Sciences and the great-great granddaughter of Johann Ernst Schubert, the Lutheran theologian whose ideas about Ghost Theory are featured on this blog. See link to find out more.

Christmas Carols relating to the fairy tale themes explored on this Blog can be heard sung in German and English if you hit the Christmas Carols link.

Christmas Fairy Tales on this Website Featuring Christmas Hauntings:
The Advent Flibbertigibbet (Flibbertigibbet link)
Hille Bingel’s Wedding
The Troll’s of Winter
Marriage of King Wilt and Lady Lee
Ghosts of Christmas Past (Christmas Ghosts link)

The Lives of the Christmas Saints:
Saint Joseph in the Forest
Child of Mary
Saint Andrew, the Protocolete (Saint Andrew’s Eve link)
Saint Nicholas
Saint Lucy (Christmas Saints link)

The season is also a popular time for auguring one’s future, especially in regard to the New Year and designing your own New Year Celebration. See the links about

St. Andrew’s Eve,
The Lover Invited to Dinner
Augury/Text
Augury for the 21st Century

And finally, who would have thought the Christmas Season would be such a good time for Nose Fairy Tales? A Nose Trilogy appears on this blog, the links are:

Nose Fairy Tale
Hille Bingels Wedding
St. Joseph

Happy Reading and Merry Christmas!

Click on the link for more tales:
FairyTaleChannel.com

Sunday, November 27, 2011

The Elves of Christmas


Grimm’s Fairy Tale No. 39: The Elves of Christmas (or: Die Wichtelmaenner)

Through no fault of his own, a shoemaker had slipped into abject poverty. Finally he became so poor that he had nothing left but a bit of leather for a single pair of shoes. And so in the evening he cut out the leather and planned to begin his work the next morning.

Because he had a clear conscience he went to bed peacefully, commended himself to God and fell asleep. In the morning after saying his prayer, he wanted to sit down to work. But there before him stood two shoes on his table, completely finished! He was amazed and did not know what to say. He took the shoes in his hand to examine them more carefully. They were so cleanly made and no stitch was wrong, the shoes seemed to be his masterpiece! Soon a buyer arrived and because he liked the shoes so much he paid more than the usual amount and shoemaker could negotiate more than the customary fee.

Now with the money he was able to buy leather for two pairs of shoes. In the evening he cut out the leather and intended to start work the next morning with a fresh heart. But when he awoke the shoes were already finished and buyers were also not in short supply. They offered him so much money that he could buy leather for four pairs of shoes. And so it continued. Whatever he cut out at night was finished in the morning so that he soon had an honorable income, and finally, he even became a wealthy man.

Now it happened one evening not long before Christmas, that the man began his cutting work. He said to his wife “How would it be if we stayed up tonight to see who lends us a helping hand?” The wife was satisfied and made a light. Then they hid themselves in the corner, behind the clothes hanging there, and watched. When it was midnight two small little naked men emerged, sat down at the shoemaker’s table and took up the freshly cut leather. They began to stitch, sew and tap so that the shoemaker, in his amazement, could not turn his eyes away. They did not stop until everything was finished and stood complete on the table. Then they hopped away quickly.

The next morning the woman said “The small men have made us rich. We must show our gratitude. They were busy running around all night and had no clothes to warm them. They must have been freezing! Do you know? I will sew a little shirt, jacket, jerkin and pants for them. I will knit for each one a pair of stockings and you shall make a pair of shoes for each.” The man replied “Yes, I am satisfied.” And in the evening when they had everything finished they placed the gifts on the table instead of the leather. Then they hid to see what the little men would do. At midnight they appeared and wanted to immediately start their work, but they did not find leather cut out and ready but cute pieces of clothing. First they were amazed but then they were gripped by tremendous joy. Quickly they put on the clothing, ran their hands over the pretty cloth and sang:

“Are we not fellows fine? Why should we be shoemakers more?”

Then they jumped and danced and leapt over chair and bench. Finally they danced through the door. They never returned and the shoemaker lived a long and prosperous life and as long as he lived he was successful in everything he did.

Read more fairy tales by clicking on the link:
FairyTaleChannel.com

Thursday, November 3, 2011

The Witch's Sabbath


Grimm’s Saga No. 252: The Witch's Sabbath

A woman from Hembach took her son Johannes, who was barely 16 years old, to the witch's gathering. Because he wanted to learn how to whistle, the mother told her son to practice whistling for the dancers there. She told him to climb the highest tree so that his whistling could be heard far and wide. The boy obeyed and climbed the tree.  And so he whistled loud and long and saw how they all danced below. Perhaps because it all seemed so strange to him, he finally said out loud: “ Protect me, dear God! Where do so many crazy and wild people come from?”  He had barely uttered these words, when he fell from the tree, sprained his shoulder and called out loud for help. But no one was there to help him, he found himself quite alone.

Read more fairy tales by clicking on the link:
FairyTaleChannel.com

Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Assembly of the Dead, Grimm's Saga No. 342



Fairy Tale for Halloween: The Assembly of the Dead

The queen had died. She lay in her castle in a splendid bed in the mourning hall that had been draped in black. At night the great room was illuminated with wax candles and the guards sat outside in the smaller antechamber.

The watchmen included a captain and forty-nine other men. Toward midnight the captain heard a carriage, pulled by six horses, rushing toward the castle. He then saw how a woman, dressed in the manner of a mourner with noble and decent countenance, descended from the coach.

She immediately asked to be given an audience with the deceased lady. But the captain replied he did not have the power to grant this wish. She insisted, mentioning her own famous name and arguing that as the Lord Chamberlain’s wife she had the right to see the deceased one last time. The captain hesitated, but the woman needled him so until he could no longer disagree.

After granting the woman access, he closed the door to the chamber and walked back and forth outside, listening carefully and peering through the key-hole. There he saw how the dead queen suddenly sat upright and appeared to be speaking softly to the woman, but with closed eyes and with no sign of life in her demeanor (except for her lips moving slightly). Whispering to his men, he invited one after another to look through the key-hole and each man saw the same thing. 

Finally, he took his turn at the key-hole once more and saw how the dead woman slowly lay down again on the fine bed. At once the woman opened the door and was led to her carriage by the captain, who could feel that her hand was ice-cold.

The wagon hastened away as quickly as it had come and the captain saw in the distance how her horses exhaled sparks of fire. The next morning news came that the Lord Chamberlain’s wife, who lived several hours away at her country estate, had died precisely in the hour she visited the dead woman.


Read more fairy tales by clicking on the link:
FairyTaleChannel.com

Monday, October 17, 2011

Skulls that Speak in the Bone-House



The Skull in the Bone House

It was evening in the house of Constable Wyler who lived in the Swiss Valley of Loetschen. Women and girls sat in front of the fire spinning while older crones told tales about witches and goblins. The young listened attentively.

Nearby sat a young man of twenty, who boasted about his courage, fearlessness and incredible adventures. “And what fortune I’ve had!” he preened, “Never has a single hair on my head been harmed even though I have done some gruesome things in my time! And today I shall do what none of you would ever dream of. I will go into the bone-house and retrieve a skull! You will see!” Placing his fingers at the corner of his mouth, he pulled his lips back in a grimace so that his white teeth sparkled in the firelight.

The others listened quietly. Finally an older woman said he should not commit such a grave sin and should never make jokes about such things. But the assembled spinners could not hold him back from his foolish deed, even though they cried after him that one should never play with the dead for something gruesome might happen. But these words only acted as a catalyst. He tore himself from the group and stormed into the night.

He hung his hat on an elderberry bush in front of the bone-house of Kippel, where hundreds of skulls were stacked up high. Carefully lighting his lantern, he entered the dusty, dreary hut and searched among the desiccated skeletons for the skull of his uncle. When he found it, he placed it under his arm, then he blew out the candle and made his way home. “They will be surprised when I bring the skull into the chamber and place it on the table,” he murmured to himself and laughed into the dark night.

But it seemed that the skull he carried was getting heavier and heavier, the farther away from the bone house he came. When he arrived at the house of Kippeler Riedbord, he thought he could no longer carry his load. Reaching the chapel, he placed the skull on the stone before the door and murmured a prayer. Then he grasped the smiling skull and continued on his way until he reached Laerchen. But there he had to rest again. It seemed he was no longer carrying a skull but rather a leaden ball under his arm, which was aching under the heavy load. He considered what to do and thought to himself “It is not much further and I shan’t return now!”

But the jaws of the skull began to crack like wooden wheels running across sharp-edged gravel. Then the skull began to speak in a raspy voice: “You are lucky you only removed the skull of your uncle, otherwise you would have been torn to bits!” and the jaws of the skull flapped wildly and groaned like an old lock refusing to open with a rusty key. “Take me back to the bone-house in Aff, take me back, take me back” the skull moaned “and return me to the spot where I used to rest!”

The youth would have preferred a hasty retreat, but he had to remain were he stood. His feet were rooted to the ground and after some time like this he thought it  best to do what he was told and as quickly as possible. He picked up his heavy load and followed the way he had come. Gradually with each step it became easier and he felt his boney load becoming lighter the closer he got to the bone-house. As he stood before the door, he lit his candle and placed the skull at the exact spot of its prior rest. Then he quickly left the dark and creepy hut, never again returning to the evening spinning circle. Instead he returned to his room where he lay in bed lifeless and quite ill for many weeks. 

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The Woman in White: Richmodis von Aducht



From Cologne: The Tale of Richmodis von Aducht

In the mid-fifteenth century plague spread through the city of Cologne. In its shadows, a woman in black could be seen creeping through the narrow streets. It was the Black Death. Its poisonous breath seeped through the window cracks of meager huts but was also seen in palaces and fine houses alike. Without pity it took the life of many thousands.
The gravediggers painted a black cross on innumerable house posts – a sign that the pestilence had visited.

The number of dead rose so quickly that it soon became impossible to bury them all. The bodies of the unfortunate were pushed into a common grave, covered with earth and a wooden cross was placed on top.  It was a time when crying, moaning and wailing filled the narrow lanes of the old city of Cologne.

Near the New Market close to the Church of the Apostles there lived a rich councilor by the name of Mengis of Aducht . But fate visited him and plucked his youthful bride from his arms. The young councilor’s grief was without bounds. He could not pull himself away from the corpse of his bride wearing the white wedding dress she had worn only a few years before. After decorating the coffin with flowers, he adorned his silent wife with the beautiful earrings she had worn in life.

Even the night seemed to mourn the loss of Lady Richimodis. It was deadly still in the cemetery near the church when suddenly the bar of the wooden door was raised. Two shadows slid by through the dark rows of newly dug graves. It was the two grave diggers of the Holy Apostle’s Church, who had buried the young wife of the councilor.  They had closed the lid of the casket while the knight bowed before his wife one last time. But they could not help noticing the sparkling gems, precious rings and costly fabric that enveloped the young woman.

But now from the darkness the rustling of dried flowers in the funeral wreath could be heard. The two grave diggers returned, but this time with sinister intent. Slowly they dug up the tomb and the clods of earth piled high. A dull noise rang out and the light from the lantern flickered as the two men hastily opened the lid of the coffin and gazed upon the lifeless face of the lady. The light of the lantern fell on the folded hands of the corpse and the rings on her fingers glistened.

Suddenly the lifeless body twitched in its coffin. The small, narrow fingers moved. In horror the grave robbers raced from that place, leaving the coffin open and their tools lying on the ground.

A deep sigh emanated from the crypt. Several minutes later the woman who had been buried there sat up. Her eyes searched the dark surroundings. Slowly she understood what had happened: in a death-like state they had buried her while she slumbered.  But her horror only gave her a new vitality. She stood up and gripped the lantern left behind. And without restraint she opened the door the robbers forgot to lock.

The streets were empty. Only the silent stars looked down on the lonely figure in the snow-white gown as she made her way home.

To read the latest about the Black Death in the NYT, go to:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/13/science/13plague.html

Read more fairy tales by clicking on the link:
FairyTaleChannel.com

Sunday, October 9, 2011

The Three Tells of Switzerland


Grimm’s Saga No. 298: The Three Tells

The Three Tells

According to common folk and shepherds of Switzerland there is a cleft in the craggy rock near Lake Waldstaetter. Here the three liberators of the land sleep; they are called the Three Tells. They wear the ancient dress of their ancestors and shall rise again and go out as liberators when the time of dire need arrives for their homeland. But access to this cave is only given to the fortunate finder.
A shepherd boy once told the following story to a traveller: his father, searching for a lost goat in the mountain crags, entered a cave. When he remembered that the three men sleeping inside were the three Tells, the old man who was the real Tell sat up and asked:  

“What time is it?” And when the frightened shepherd said “It is high noon!”, he replied: “Then it is still not time for us to return.” He went back to sleep. The father and his comrades went out looking for the Tells to wake them in a time of need for the fatherland. He searched often for the cave, but never found it again.