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WHY THE SEA IS SALT
A Norse Folk Tale
Gudrun Thome-Thomsen
Once on a time, but it was a
long, long time ago, there were two
brothers, one rich and one poor.
Now, one Christmas eve, the
poor one had not so much as a crumb in the house, either of
meat or bread, so he went to his brother to ask him for something
with which to keep Christmas. It was not the first time his
brother had been forced to help him, and, as he was always
stingy, he was not very glad to see him this time, but he said,
“Fll give you a whole piece of bacon, two loaves of bread, and
candles into the bargain, if you’ll never bother me again — ^but
mind you don’t set foot in my house from this day on.”
The poor brother said he wouldn’t, thanked his brother for
the help he had given him, and started on his way home.
He hadn’t gone far before he met an old, old man with a
white beard, who looked so thin and worn and hungry that it
was pitiful to see him.
“In heaven’s name give a poor man a morsel to eat,” said
the old man.
“Now, indeed, I have been begging myself,” said the poor
brother, “but I’m not so poor that I can’t give you something
on the blessed Christmas eve.” And with that he handed the
old man a candle, and a loaf of bread, and he was just going to
cut off a slice of bacon, when the old man stopped him — “That
is enough and to spare,” said he. “And now, I’ll tell you some-
thing. Not far from here is the entrance to the home of the
underground folks. They have a mill there which can grind
out anything they wish for except bacon; now mind you go there.
When you get inside they will all want to buy your bacon, but
don’t sell it unless you get in return the mill which stands behind
the door. When you come out Vl\ teach you how to handle
the mill.”
So the man with the bacon thanked the other for his good
advice and followed the directions which the old man had given
him, and soon he stood outside the door of the hillfolks’ home.
When he got in, everything went just as the old man had
said. All the hillfolk, great and small, came swarming up to
him, like ants aroimd an ant-hill, and each tried to outbid the
other for the bacon.
“Well!” said the man, “by rights, my old dame and I ought
to have this bacon for our Christmas dinner; but, since you have
all set your hearts on it, I suppose I must give it up to you. Now,
if I sell it at all, I’ll have for it that mill behind the door yonder.”
At first the hillfolk wouldn’t hear of such a bargain and hig-
gled and haggled with the man, but he stuck to what he said,
and at last they gave up the mill for the bacon.
When the man got out of the cave and into the woods again,
he met the same old beggar and asked him how to handle the
mill. After he had learned how to use it, he thanked the old
man and went off home as fast as he could; still the clock had
struck twelve on Christmas eve before he reached his own door.
“Wherever in the world have you been?” said his old dame.
“Here have I sat hour after hour, waiting and watching, with-
out so much as two sticks to lay under the Christmas porridge.”
“Oh!” said the man, “I could not get back before, for I had
to go a long way first for one thing and then for another; but
now you shall see what you shall see.”
So he put the mill on the table, and bade it first of all grind
lights, then a tablecloth, then meat, then ale, and so on till they
had everything that was nice for Christmas fare. He had only
to speak the word and the mill ground out whatever he wanted.
The old damp stood by blessing her stars, and kept on asking
where he had got this wonderful mill, but he wouldn’t tell her.
“It’s all the same where I got it. You see the mill is a good
one, and the mill stream never freezes. That’s enough.”
So he ground meat and drink and all good things to last out
the whole of Christmas holidays, and on the third day he asked
all his friends and kin to his house and gave them a great feast.
Now, when his rich brother saw all that was on the table and
all that was in the cupboards, he grew quite wild with anger,
for he could not bear that his brother should have anything.
“Twas only on Christmas eve,” he said to the rest, “he
was so poorly off that he came and begged for a morsel of food,
and now he gives a feast as if he were a count or a king,” and
he turned to his brother and said, “But where in the world did
you get all this wealth?”
“From behind the door,” answered the owner of the mill, for
he did not care to tell his brother much about it. But later in
the evening, when he had gotten a little too merry, he could keep
his secret no longer, and he brought out the mill and said:
“There you see what has gotten me all this wealth,” and so
he made the mill grind all kinds of things.
When his brother saw it, he set his heart on having the mill,
and, after some talk, it was agreed that the rich brother was
to get it at hay-harvest time, when he was to pay three hun-
dred dollars for it. Now, you may fancy the mill did not grow
rusty for want of work, for while he had it the poor brother made
it grind meat and drink that would last for years. When hay-
harvest came, the rich brother got it, but he was in such a hurry
to make it grind that he forgot to learn how to handle it.
It was evening when the rich brother got the mill home,
and next morning he told his wife to go out into the hayfield
and toss hay while the mowers cut the grass, and he would stay
home and get the dinner ready,
j So, when dinner time drew
near, he put the mill on the
kitchen table and said:
“Grind herrings and broth,
and grind them good and fast.”
And the mill began to grind
herrings and broth, first of all
the dishes full, then all the
tubs full, and so on till the
kitchen floor was quite covered.
The man twisted and twirled
at the mill to get it to stop,
but for all his fiddling and
fumbling the mill went on grind-
ing, and in a little while the
broth rose so high that the
man was nearly drowning. So he threw open the kitchen door and
ran into the parlor, but it was not long before the mill had
ground the parlor full too, and it was only at the risk of his life
that the man could get hold of the latch of the housedoor through
the stream of broth. When he got the door open,he ran out and
set off down the road, with the stream of herrings and broth
at his heels, roaring like a waterfall over the whole farm.
Now, his old dame, who was in the field tossing hay, thought
it a long time to dinner, and at last she said:
“Well! though the master doesn’t call us home, we may as
well go. Maybe he finds it hard work to boil the broth, and
will be glad of my help.”
The men were willing enough, so they sauntered homewards.
But just as they had got a little way up the hill, what should
they meet but herrings and broth, all running and dashing and
splashing together iji a stream, and the master himself running
before them for his life, and as he passed them he called out:
“Eat, drink! eat, drink! but take care you’re not drowned in
the broth.”
Away he ran as fast as his legs would carry him to his
brother’s house, and begged him in heaven’s name to take back
the mill, at once, for, said he, ” If it grinds only one hour more
the whole parish will be swallowed up by herrings and broth.”
So the poor brother took back the mill, and it wasn’t long
before it stopped grinding herrings and broth.
And now he set up a farmhouse far finer than the one in which
his brother lived, and with the mill he ground so much gold
that he covered it with plates of gold. And, as the farm lay
by the seaside, the golden house gleamed and glistened far away
over the sea. All who sailed
by put ashore to see the rich man
in the golden house, and to see
the wonderful mill the fame of
which spread far and wide, till
there was nobody who hadn’t
heard of it.
So one day there came a
skipper who wanted to see the
mill, and the first thing he
asked was if it could grind salt.
“Grind salt!” said the
owner. “I should just think it
could. It can grind anything.”
When the skipper heard that,
he said he must have the mill,
for if he only had it, he thought,
he need not take his long voy-
ages across stormy seas for a lading of salt. He much preferred
sitting at home with a pipe and a glass. Well, the man let him
have it, but the skipper was in such a hurry to get away with
it that he had no time to ask how to handle the mill. He got
on board his ship as fast as he could and set sail. When he
had sailed a good way off, he brought the mill on deck and said,
“Grind salt, and grind both good and fast.’*
And the mill began to grind salt so that it poured out like
water, and when the skipper had got the ship full he wished to
stop the mill, but whichever way he turned it, and however
much he tried, it did no good; the mill kept on grinding, the heap
of salt grew higher and higher, and at last down sank the ship.
There lies the mill at the bottom of the sea, and grinds away
to this very day, and that is the reason why the sea is salt —
so some folks say.
