The Nix of the Mill-Pond

Once upon a time, there was a miller who lived with his wife in great happiness. They had money and land, and their wealth grew more and more each year. But bad luck comes like a thief in the night.

As their wealth had increased, so it began to decrease, year by year, until at last the miller could hardly call the mill he lived in his own. He was very distressed, and when he lay down after a day’s work, he found no rest, but tossed about in his bed, full of worry.

One morning he got up before sunrise and went outside, hoping that perhaps his heart might feel lighter. As he stepped over the mill dam, the first sunbeam was just breaking forth, and he heard a rippling sound in the pond.

He turned around and saw a beautiful woman rising slowly out of the water. Her long hair, which she held off her shoulders with her soft hands, fell down on both sides and covered her white body.

He soon realized that she was the Nix of the Mill-Pond, and in his fright, he did not know whether to run away or stay. But the nix spoke with her sweet voice, called him by his name, and asked why he was so sad.

The miller was at first speechless, but when he heard her speak so kindly, he took courage and told her how he had once lived in wealth and happiness, but now he was so poor that he did not know what to do.

"Be at ease," answered the nix, "I will make you richer and happier than you have ever been before, only you must promise to give me the young thing that has just been born in your house." "What else could that be," thought the miller, "but a young puppy or kitten?" And he promised her what she desired.

The nix sank back into the water, and he hurried back to his mill, comforted and in good spirits. He had not yet reached it when the maid came out of the house and called to him to rejoice, for his wife had given birth to a little boy.

The miller stood as if struck by lightning; he saw very well that the cunning nix had known about it and had tricked him. Hanging his head, he went up to his wife’s bedside, and when she said, "Why don’t you rejoice over the fine boy?" he told her what had happened and what kind of promise he had made to the nix.

"What good are riches and prosperity to me," he added, "if I must lose my child? But what can I do?" Even the relatives who had come to wish them joy did not know what to say. In the meantime, prosperity returned to the miller’s house.

Everything he undertook succeeded; it was as if chests and cupboards filled themselves, and as if money multiplied nightly in the drawers. It was not long before his wealth was greater than ever before. But he could not rejoice in it without worry, for the bargain he had made with the nix tormented his soul.

Whenever he passed the mill pond, he feared she might rise and remind him of his debt. He never let the boy himself go near the water. "Beware," he said to him, "if you but touch the water, a hand will rise, seize you, and pull you down." But as year after year went by and the nix did not show herself again, the miller began to feel at ease.

The boy grew up to be a youth and was apprenticed to a huntsman. When he had learned everything and become an excellent huntsman, the lord of the village took him into his service. In the village lived a beautiful and true-hearted maiden, who pleased the huntsman, and when his master saw that, he gave him a little house, and the two were married, living peacefully and happily, and loving each other with all their hearts.

One day the huntsman was chasing a roe deer. When the animal turned from the forest into the open country, he pursued it and at last shot it. He did not notice that he was now near the dangerous mill pond, and after he had cut up the deer, he went to the water to wash his blood-stained hands.

But scarcely had he dipped them in when the nix rose up, smilingly wrapped her dripping arms around him, and quickly pulled him down under the waves, which closed over him. When evening came and the huntsman did not return home, his wife became alarmed.

She went out to look for him, and since he had often told her that he had to be on guard against the traps of the nix and dared not go near the mill pond, she already suspected what had happened.

She hurried to the water, and when she found his hunting pouch lying on the shore, she could no longer doubt the misfortune. Lamenting her sorrow and wringing her hands, she called to her beloved by name, but in vain.

She hurried to the other side of the pond and called him again; she cursed the nix with harsh words, but no answer came. The surface of the water remained calm, only the crescent moon stared steadily back at her. The poor woman did not leave the pond.

With hasty steps, she paced around it without resting a moment, sometimes silent, sometimes uttering a loud cry, sometimes softly sobbing. At last her strength gave out, she sank to the ground and fell into a deep sleep. Presently a dream came to her.

She was anxiously climbing upward between great masses of rock; thorns and briars caught her feet, rain beat in her face, and wind tossed her long hair about. When she reached the summit, a very different sight appeared: the sky was blue, the air soft, the ground sloped gently downward, and on a green meadow, bright with flowers of every color, stood a pretty cottage.

She went up to it and opened the door; there sat an old woman with white hair, who beckoned to her kindly. At that moment, the poor woman woke up. Day had already dawned, and she at once resolved to act according to her dream.

She painfully climbed the mountain; everything was exactly as she had seen it in the night. The old woman received her kindly and pointed to a chair where she might sit. "You must have met with misfortune," she said, "since you have sought out my lonely cottage." With tears, the woman related what had happened.

"Be comforted," said the old woman, "I will help you. Here is a golden comb. Wait until the full moon rises, then go to the mill pond, sit on the shore, and comb your long black hair with this comb.

When you have finished, lay it down on the bank, and you will see what happens." The woman returned home, but the time until the full moon passed slowly. At last the shining disk appeared in the sky; then she went to the mill pond, sat down, and combed her long black hair with the golden comb.

When she had finished, she laid it at the water’s edge. It was not long before there was a movement in the depths; a wave rose, rolled to the shore, and carried the comb away.

In no more time than it took for the comb to sink to the bottom, the surface of the water parted, and the head of the huntsman appeared. He did not speak, but looked at his wife with sorrowful eyes.

At the same moment, a second wave came rushing up and covered the man’s head. All vanished; the mill pond lay peaceful as before, and only the full moon shone on it. Full of sorrow, the woman went back, but again the dream showed her the old woman’s cottage.

Next morning she set out again and told the wise woman her troubles. The old woman gave her a golden flute and said, "Wait until the full moon comes again, then take this flute, play a beautiful tune on it, and when you have finished, lay it on the sand; then you will see what happens." The wife did as the old woman told her.

As soon as the flute lay on the sand, there was a stirring in the depths, and a wave rushed up and carried the flute away. Immediately afterward, the water parted, and not only the man’s head but half of his body also appeared.

He stretched out his arms longingly toward her, but a second wave came up, covered him, and pulled him down again. "Alas, what good does it do me," said the unhappy woman, "that I should see my beloved only to lose him again!" Despair filled her heart once more, but the dream led her a third time to the old woman’s house.

She set out, and the wise woman gave her a golden spinning wheel, comforted her, and said, "All is not yet fulfilled. Wait until the time of the full moon, then take the spinning wheel, sit on the shore, and spin the spool full.

When you have done that, place the spinning wheel near the water, and you will see what happens." The woman obeyed everything she said exactly. As soon as the full moon appeared, she carried the golden spinning wheel to the shore and spun industriously until the flax was used up and the spool was quite filled with thread.

As soon as the wheel stood on the shore, there was a more violent movement than before in the depths of the pond, and a mighty wave rushed up and carried the wheel away. Immediately, the head and the whole body of the man rose into the air in a waterspout.

He quickly sprang to the shore, caught his wife by the hand, and fled. But they had scarcely gone a very little distance when the whole pond rose with a frightful roar and streamed out over the open country.

The fugitives already saw death before their eyes, when the woman in her terror begged the help of the old woman, and in an instant they were transformed—she into a toad, he into a frog.

The flood that had overtaken them could not destroy them, but it tore them apart and carried them far away. When the water had dispersed and they both touched dry land again, they regained their human form, but neither knew where the other was.

They found themselves among strange people who did not know their homeland. High mountains and deep valleys lay between them. To keep themselves alive, they both had to tend sheep. For many long years they drove their flocks through field and forest and were full of sorrow and longing.

When spring once more broke forth on the earth, they both went out one day with their flocks, and as chance would have it, they drew near each other. They met in a valley but did not recognize each other; yet they rejoiced that they were no longer so lonely.

Henceforth they each day drove their flocks to the same place; they did not speak much, but they felt comforted. One evening when the full moon was shining in the sky and the sheep were already at rest, the shepherd pulled a flute out of his pocket and played a beautiful but sorrowful tune.

When he had finished, he saw that the shepherdess was weeping bitterly. "Why are you weeping?" he asked. "Alas," she answered, "thus shone the full moon when I played this tune on the flute for the last time, and the head of my beloved rose out of the water." He looked at her, and it seemed as if a veil fell from his eyes, and he recognized his dear wife.

And when she looked at him, and the moon shone on his face, she knew him also. They embraced and kissed each other, and no one need ask if they were happy.