ed like a countryman as before, and the great sack
of money by his side.[46]

At first he thought it was a dream, till he found that his good luck was
real. As nobody made any inquiries after the deserter, he began to think
at last that his lost hat had remained behind to do soldier's service in
his stead. He related the wonderful story to his children before his
death, and as the money had brought him happiness and prosperity, he
could not suppose that it had been the gift of an evil spirit.

[Footnote 46: The hat reminds us of the doll in the story of the Tontla
Wood. In the original the stranger is simply called "Koewer." Jannsen
interprets the name to mean "Koewer-silm" (Crooked-eye), and thinks the
stranger might have been Tapio himself. But it appears to me from the
whole context that he was simply the indwelling spirit of one particular
crooked birch-tree, whom we find at the beginning of the story wandering
at a distance from home.]

SECTION VI

_HEATH LEGENDS._

(JANNSEN.)

Jannsen gives the following account of heath-spirits, &c. Abstracts of
stories not included under other headings we have appended to his
general observations.

In former days, when trees and bushes talked, animals and birds
understood a wonderful language, and the Old Boy wandered about openly
and unabashed, and wonderful things often happened on the heaths. He who
wished to cross a heath must keep his eyes open day and night. In the
daytime, indeed, no spectre dared to appear; but it often happened at
night that people were teased and frightened on the heath. If any one
was on the heath on a summer or autumn evening, he often heard a
rustling and tapping in the bushes, and perhaps water suddenly spurted
out under his feet. On winter evenings, or at midnight, he saw little
flames dancing on the moor, and if he went towards them, they
disappeared suddenly, and danced up again in the distance. But if a man
was on the moor at night-time, he could not escape from it till
cockcrow. If a man had to fetch anything from the heath during
hay-harvest, he heard strange voices, or heard a bird singing with a
human voice; and whoever drove across the moor in winter with a light
sledge must have heard an invisible hand striking against the
tree-trunks or the ice. Then you whip up your horse, and hasten across
the moor, if you can.

Jannsen also relates a story of a herd-boy who was scolding at some
girls who were gathering berries on th