over the Hakel to the now desolate village of Ammendorf.

He has only been seen by a few children, who, having been born on a
Sunday, had the power of seeing spirits. Sometimes he met them as a
lonely huntsman, accompanied by one solitary hound. Sometimes he was
seen in a carriage drawn by four horses, and followed by six dogs of
the chase. But many have heard the low bellowing of his hounds, and
the splashing of his horse's feet in the swamps of the moor; many have
heard his cry of "Hu! hu!" and seen his associate and forerunner--the
Tut-Osel, or Tooting Ursula.

Once upon a time three wanderers seated themselves in the
neighbourhood of the Dummburg. The night was already far advanced. The
moon gleamed faintly through the chasing clouds. All around was still.
Suddenly they heard something rush along over their heads. They looked
up, and an immense screech-owl flew before them.

"Ha!" cried one of them, "there is the Tut-Osel! Hackelnberg, the Wild
Huntsman, is not far off."

"Let us fly," exclaimed the second, "before the spirits overtake us."

"We cannot fly," said the third; "but you have nothing to fear if you
do not irritate him. Lay yourselves down upon your faces when he
passes over us. But, remember, you must not think of addressing
Hackelnberg, lest he treat you as he treated the shepherd."

The wanderers laid themselves under the bushes. Presently they heard
around them the rushing by, as it were, of a whole pack of hounds, and
high in the air above them they heard a hollow sound like that of a
hunted beast of the forest, and ever and anon they trembled at hearing
the fearful-toned voice of the Wild Huntsman uttering his well-known
"Hu! hu!" Two of the wanderers pressed close to the earth, but the
third could not resist his inclination to have a peep at what was
going on. He looked up slantingly through the branches, and saw the
shadow of a huntsman pass directly over him.

Suddenly all around was hushed. The wanderers rose slowly and timidly,
and looked after Hackelnberg; but he had vanished, and did not return.

"But who is the Tut-Osel?" inquired the second wanderer, after a long
pause.

"In a distant nunnery in Thuringia," replied the first, "there once
lived a nun named Ursula, who, even during her lifetime, tormented all
the sisterhood by her discordant voice, and oftentimes interrupted the
service of the church, for which reason they called her Tut-Osel, or
Tooting Ursula. If matters were bad