Tales from the Qvigstad Collection

✦ ─── ⟐ ─── ✦

Nine tales from J. Qvigstad's Lappiske eventyr og sagn (Sami Tales and Legends, 1927), Volume I — the largest published collection of North Sami oral tradition in the original language. Tale 9 follows Nikkala, the small clever brother who outfoxes a jettånås (giant) three times — with salt in the soup, with yeast between sleeping bodies, and with his own quickness from inside a hay-bale — a classic Sami trickster-cunning tale. Tale 11 features the "gan'då" — a youth who possesses the Sami magical power of the gand — who receives three gifts from old men on the road, traps the Devil in a purse, and wins souls from Hell by playing cards with Death. Tale 22 tells how Christmas Stallos, the giant-spirits of the Yule season, teach a boy to play the munnharpe in exchange for calfskins; the magic instrument makes all living things dance, and the boy uses it to expose a corrupt priest. Tale 26 belongs to the Christian-Sami syncretic tradition: its etiological chain explaining the cow's perpetual grazing, the hare's unbuilt house, the flatfish's crooked mouth, and the bear's winter sleep. Tale 27 is a devil-compact tale: a servant boy unknowingly sells himself to the devil, is rescued by Bishop Mattias Kastrim, and protected through three successive nights inside the altar rail as the devil comes first as the great man, then in the bishop's likeness, and finally in his own horned shape. Tale 28 is a luck tale: a boy prophesied to be the most fortunate in the world survives every murder attempt by Per Kremmer — thrown into a mill, sent with a death-letter — and travels to the bottom of the sea to retrieve Solomon's sword and answer three impossible questions before winning Per Kremmer's daughter and all his wealth. Tale 29 is a noaidi tale: two shamans whose prophecy sets an Oedipus-shaped fate in motion — the son kills his father and marries his mother, and there was never any escaping it. Tale 32 is an etiological memorat: a spider spinning its web over a cave-mouth saves a man from the Tjuder — which is why the old Sami do not kill spiders. Tale 33 is a morality tale: a drunkard's son tries to hang himself in a ruined distillery, falls when the rope breaks, finds a sack of money, and returns the next morning to buy back his family farm from the man who threw him out. Tale 30 tells of two wastrel brothers driven from their father's farm who become doctor and tailor in a distant city, and years later on the street recognize their aged father — the dying father's deathbed curse falls on the proud doctor who spurned him, his blessing on the kind tailor who sheltered him. Tale 31 is an Enare custom tale: a lazy daughter abandons her aged mother on a lake island following the old pagan practice, sees her mother's fingers appearing through the rubbish of her uncleaned gamme, rows out to find her mother lying half-starved in a birch-bark pit — "since you brought me here once, I will not follow you back." Tale 34 is a comic justice tale: a bailiff extorts a farmer's young stallion; a king traveling incognito stays at the farm, hears the story, buys the useless old mare for two hundred riksdaler, rides to the bailiff, reveals himself, compels the bailiff to give the stallion and wagon as a bridal gift to the farmer's son, and sends a letter to the governor ordering the bailiff's removal from office.


26. THE VIRGIN MARY'S JOURNEY TO VISIT ELISABETH

When Mary heard that Elisabeth was with child, she set out to go to her. When she came to the bank of the Jordan, she found a cow there. Mary said: "Will you be so kind as to carry me across the river?"

The cow answered: "I have no time to carry you; I have not yet eaten my fill."

Then Mary said: "You shall eat; but your belly shall never be full. You shall grow weary of eating before you are satisfied."

And so it is still with the cow: when it stops eating, it lies down at once; but when it rises again, it begins straightaway to eat again.

Mary went on and came to a mare. She asked the mare to carry her across the river. "I will not do it," said the mare, "for fear of harming the young I carry in my womb."

Mary said: "Since you would not carry me across the river, you shall carry your young in your womb for a full year."

Mary went on and met a hare. "Carry me across the river," she said. "I have no time," said the hare; "I have not yet found timber for my house — I mean to build a winter dwelling before the cold comes."

Mary said to the hare: "You shall spend your whole life speaking of building a house, but you shall never manage it." And so the hare still says every winter when the frost comes: "If I live until summer, I will build myself a house." But when summer arrives, it says: "Well, this winter is no harder than the last."

Mary went on and saw a flounder. "Oh, what a beautiful flounder!" she said. The flounder at once twisted its mouth and mocked her: "Oh, what a beautiful flounder!" Mary said: "On you and all your kind the mouth shall remain as you have made it." And so all flatfish have a crooked mouth to this day.

Mary went on again and met a bear. She asked the bear to carry her across the river. The bear said: "I am tired enough; but I will try to carry you across all the same. Come, sit on my back and hold tight to my fur."

Mary sat on the bear's back, and the bear swam across the river. When they came to the other bank, Mary said: "From this day you shall sleep all winter; but you shall not feel hunger, because you bore me so willingly across the river."

And so the bear sleeps every winter now.

(Aikio, 1891.)


29. THE BOY WHO MARRIED HIS MOTHER

Once there were two noaidi who wandered from place to place and foretold whatever was asked of them. One day they came to a certain farm, and on that farm a ewe was about to give birth.

One noaidi said: "Shall we not help that ewe?"

The other answered: "We should help her; but the wolf will eat the lamb."

The ewe gave birth to a lamb, and the lamb lived until autumn. When autumn came, the people of the farm slaughtered it.

Then the two noaidi came again to the same farm. The housewife was in labor. The people begged the two noaidi to help her. But the noaidi said: "We would help her; but the boy will kill his own father and marry his own mother."

The father and mother did not believe this, for they saw that the lamb had not gone as the noaidi had foretold.

Later they cooked the lamb's meat — the lamb the noaidi had said the wolf would eat. When the meat was boiled, they set the pot outside to cool and all went indoors. Then the wolf came and ate all the meat and drank the broth as well. Then the people said: "Truly what the noaidi said is true. It may well be that our child too will become as they said."

The father took a knife, meaning to kill the child. But the mother said: "There is no need to kill the child. Build instead a little chest that locks with a key, put the child inside, and throw it into the sea."

The father did this. The chest drifted until it came to an island, where a man found it and took up the child and raised him.

When the boy was grown he traveled from place to place and came to a farm where he took service. One evening his master gave him a gun and said: "Go tonight and guard the field, and if anyone comes there, shoot him — he is a thief."

The servant did as he was told. He had been at his watch a short while when he saw a man walking in the field, and he shot him at once. It was his master, for the master had not been there when the servant was set to guard the field. The master's wife was left a widow, and the servant married her.

They had been together some time when the wife noticed a mark on his back and asked: "Why do you have that mark?"

He told her how he came to have the mark, and told her the whole story of his life. Only then did the mother understand that it was her own son whom she had married.

(Saba, 1891.)


11. GAND AND THE DEVIL

A gand worked for three years; he received three øre in wages, and with those three øre he bought three loaves of bread, and set off on the road. When he had walked a short way, an old man came toward him and said: "Give me something to eat; I am hungry and am about to die." The gand said: "I have only three loaves of bread; but I will give one to a man like you." When the old man had eaten the loaf, he gave the gand a bag of such a kind that he could wish anything at all into it.

When the gand had walked a little further, a second old man came toward him and said: "I am so hungry that I am about to die; will you not give me something to eat?" The gand gave him the second loaf of bread, and the old man gave the gand such a purse that the money in it would never run out.

When the gand had walked a little further still, a third old man came and said: "I am so hungry that I am about to die; give me something to eat!" The gand gave him the last of his loaves, and was left himself without; but when the old man had eaten, he gave the gand such a card deck that with it he should always win.

As the gand walked on, he saw some geese flying; he thought: "I wish those birds would come into my bag!" And they came into his bag. When he had walked a little further, he came to a town; but the people of the town were sleeping, for it was now night. The gand went to a window and knocked. The master of the house said: "Who is it?" The gand said: "I would like a night's lodging," and he showed the geese and said: "These I will give you, if you give me a night's lodging." The master said: "I have a house outside the town, but you cannot stay there, for the devil lives in that house." The gand said: "Oh, I can stay there."

The gand gave the geese to the master and went to the house. When he had been there a little while, the devil came and said: "Who is in my house?" The gand said: "Shall we not play cards?" The devil said: "All right, let us play." So the two began to play, and the devil lost. The devil grew angry and said: "My money will never run out." The gand said: "Mine will never run out either, and my purse has no bottom." The devil said: "I don't believe your purse has no bottom." The gand said: "Crawl into the purse and see whether there is a bottom." When the devil had gone into the purse, the gand closed it, put it under his head, and lay down to sleep.

In the morning the owner of the house came and asked: "Well, how did you get on?" The gand said: "I got on well," and showed him the purse, saying: "In here is now the devil." Then the devil began to beg the gand to let him go free. The gand said: "No, I will not." The devil said again: "If you let me go free, I will leave this town for an island out in the sea. If I come back here, you may kill me; but if you come there, I will kill you." The gand agreed and let the devil go free, and the devil went to an island out in the sea.

Once the gand rowed out in a small boat to fish; but such weather arose that he could not row to shore, and he drifted to an island out in the sea. When he had come to the island, he began to cook fish; but as he was cooking, he saw the devil coming across the island so fast that the moss flew. When the devil came to the gand, he said: "Now you have come to the island where I am; now I will eat you." The gand said: "Wait, until I have cooked this pot of fish and eaten." The devil ran around the fire showing his teeth and said: "Have you ever seen such tusks as these?" The gand grabbed the boiling pot and threw it in the devil's eyes, saying: "Have you ever tasted anything this hot?" The devil fled at a run, and the gand rowed away, and at last escaped from the devil.

Some time later the gand married, and his wife bore a son; but they could find no godparents. One day he was walking in the fields, grieving because he could find no one, when he saw a man coming — and that man was Death. He said to Death: "Will you not stand godfather for me?" Death said: "Yes, I will." When the child had been baptized, Death gave his godchild medicines and said to the father: "You may heal until my godchild grows up. But when you see that I am standing at the sick person's head, you must not heal; when I am standing at the feet, then you may heal." And so he became a physician.

Then the king's daughter fell ill, and the king sent for the man and bade him heal his daughter. The man saw that Death was standing at the headboard; therefore he was reluctant to heal. The king said: "Since you are a physician, you must heal." So he had to heal her. Then Death said to the man: "You did not obey me; but I will not kill you yet. But if you say gasnin, I will kill you." Then Death went to the man's house and wrote on the wall gasnin. The man came home and asked his wife: "Have you written that on the wall?" The wife said: "What?" The man said: "There on the wall: gasnin." Then Death said: "Now I take you." The man said: "Wait, until I have taken my bag and my cards." When he had taken his bag and his cards, Death took him and brought him to hell and asked: "Is that man fit for this place, who is so fearsome at cards?" The devil said: "Certainly." Then the man said: "Let us play." So the two began to play, and the gand won many souls from the devil. Then Death said to the devil: "That man is not fit for this place."

So Death went to bring the man home. When they came to God, Death asked: "Is that man fit for this place, who is so fearsome at cards?" "He is not," said God. "Well, are those souls worthy, which the man won out of hell?" "They are," God confirmed. Then the angels opened the man's bag, and the souls flew out. And the man wished himself into the bag too — and got into heaven.

(Saba, 1891.)


22. CHRISTMAS STALLOS, THE BOY AND THE PRIEST

A man had a boy who had a desire to learn. His father taught him to be a good marksman; but that the boy did not like — he wanted to become a player. Then his father commanded that the boy should gather seven calfskins and three buckets. The boy did so. When his father grew deathly sick, he commanded that the boy should go on New Year's night, in the grey-light of morning, and sit by a storehouse that had been moved to three different places, saying: "Take the calfskins with you, sit on one yourself, and put a bucket on your head. Take two pieces of wood and rub them against each other. Do not be afraid of anything you see or hear." The man died, and the boy became sorrowful.

When the old year came to its end, the boy went and sat by that old storehouse which had originally belonged to his grandfather and had been moved to three places. He began to rub the two pieces of wood against each other, with the bucket on his head. Then three Christmas Stallos came to him and asked: "What are you doing on our path? We shall twist your head off" — and they knocked the bucket from his head and went on their way. The boy put the second bucket on his head and began to rub again. Then the Christmas Stallos came again and said: "Are you still here on our path? Now you shall lose your head" — and they knocked the bucket off and went on their way. The boy put the third bucket on his head and began to rub again. Then the Christmas Stallos came again and asked: "What are you doing now?" "I would like to play, if I could," the boy answered. "We shall teach you," said the Christmas Stallos. The boy spread the calfskins under them, and they taught him to play through the night. When morning came, they gave him a little munnharpe and took all the calfskins as payment.

The boy's munnharpe was of this kind: when he began to play on it, all living things began to dance. One day the boy went out in the forest and a priest came toward him. The priest saw that the boy had a bow in his hand and asked: "Shoot that little bird there for me!" "If you yourself will fetch it in the tree, I will shoot," answered the boy, and the priest promised to do it. The boy shot and the priest climbed up into the tree. Then the boy took his munnharpe and began to play. All the birds began to dance, and the priest danced in the tree too, and tore his clothes to pieces, and his hands became sore. The priest grew angry and complained to the authorities that the boy had laid hands on him and torn his clothes. The boy came before the authorities, and the priest showed both his clothes and his hands; he had no other witnesses than the clothes and the hands. The boy was condemned to be beheaded.

Three days later two executioners took him out to the field, and many people, both great and common, followed with them. The priest was also among them. When they came to the place where the boy was to be beheaded, he said: "You gracious lords, I ask your leave to play for you once more in remembrance, before I leave this world." The priest would not grant it, for he knew what would happen; but the others gave their leave. The priest said: "If you grant him leave to play, then bind me fast!" So they bound the priest fast to one end of a rope, with the other end tied to a tree. The boy began to play, and those who were there began to dance; the priest danced too at the end of the rope. The boy played until the priest was wound fast to the tree and his clothes were torn to pieces and his hands were sore. Then the boy said: "Now judge whether I laid hands on the priest." "Not at all," answered everyone. "Now you have learned that the priest has brought a false complaint against me before you," said the boy, and explained the whole matter clearly. So they concluded that the boy was right, and let him go free; but the priest was condemned to be beheaded.

The boy went home and wanted to marry. He sent for three beautiful young women to come. When the young women came inside, the boy began to play and the women danced. He asked: "Are these young women honest?" "Yes," answered the one who stood farthest from him — speaking for the one who danced at the front; the one in the middle spoke for her who danced in the middle; and the one nearest the door spoke for her who danced farthest in. When the boy heard that these women were honest, he sent them out and sent for three other beautiful young women to come. Three came, the boy played, they danced. Again he asked, again all three were pronounced honest. He sent them out and sent for three more. Three beautiful young women came to him. One of them had heard what had happened to the others who came before, and she stuffed wet moss into the middle woman's mouth so that the boy would not know it. When the women came inside, the boy began to play and the women danced. He asked: "Are these young women honest?" The farthest and the nearest said yes; but the middle one was silent. The boy asked loudly: "What is wrong with the middle one, that she will not speak?" The answer came: "Wet moss has been stuffed into the door-side woman's mouth." Now the boy understood that one of those women had done that. He sent them all away and would not choose any of them. The boy went to the king's hall, and the king liked him and gave his daughter to the gand in marriage.

(Aikio, 1892.)


9. THE BROTHERS WHO SOUGHT BRIDES

There were three brothers; two were large and one, named Nikkala, was small of stature, though he was grown. The two elder brothers announced they would go and find brides. Nikkala said: "Take me along!" They said: "You can't make the journey." Nikkala answered: "You'll carry me right enough." And so they set off. They put Nikkala in their pack. As they were traveling, they came to a farm. An old man came out of the farmhouse and asked: "Where are you young men going?" They said: "We are going to find brides." The old man said: "I have three daughters, and there are two of you." Then Nikkala called out: "I need one too!" The old man invited them in and prepared a proper meal and bade them eat. When they had eaten, he let each lie down by his bride. Nikkala's bride was small and foolish. He asked her: "What is that ringing sound?" The girl answered: "That is father's silver wagon, which always rings." Nikkala: "What is that flask?" The girl: "When father takes a sip of it, he becomes so strong that no one can stand against him." Nikkala: "And that staff — what is it for?" The girl: "Father uses that staff to walk across the sea." Then Nikkala understood that they were not on a proper farm. He saw a sword hanging on the wall. He went to it and tried to lift it down, but could not shift it at all. He went to the flask and took one sip — still he could not move the sword. He took a second sip; now he could shift it. He took a third sip, and when he tried to lift the sword it was as light as a knife. He cut the heads off the girls and called to his brothers: "Let us leave this farm — it is not a proper farm." The old man was a giant who had the habit of eating people.

Nikkala said: "Now we shall walk across the sea, and you must walk in my footsteps." He took the staff, the sword, and the flask with him, and they walked out over the sea. The giant discovered this and ran to his staff — but the staff was gone. He ran down to the shore and called out: "Will Nikkala come here again?" Nikkala called back: "Yes, I'll come!" And they walked over the sea and came to a priest's farm.

The priest had a daughter, and the brothers began to court her; but the girl was fonder of Nikkala than of the other two. The brothers went to the priest and said: "Nikkala is a thoroughly bad man, and your daughter is fond of him. We saw in the giant's farm a bucket made entirely of gold — tell Nikkala to fetch it." The priest called Nikkala to him and said: "If you bring me the golden bucket from the giant's farm, you shall have my daughter — but if you fail, you shall not have her."

Nikkala took a bushel of salt and set off. He crept to the giant's farm unseen and peered in through the smoke-hole. The giant was cooking soup. Nikkala poured the bushel of salt into the pot. The giant took the pot off and told his wife to serve — but when they began to eat the soup was so salt they could not swallow it. The giant turned on his wife in anger: "Why did you cook it so salty? Hurry to the well and fetch water!" The giant's wife took the golden bucket and went to the well. Nikkala went to the well, shoved her in, took the bucket, and made his way back over the sea to the priest's farm.

After some months, the brothers went again to the priest and said: "We saw in the giant's farm a pillow worked with the sun, the moon, and the stars — tell Nikkala to fetch it." The priest said: "Nikkala, you are to bring from the giant's farm a pillow with the sun, the moon, and the stars upon it." Nikkala said: "Give me a flask of yeast." He got it and set off. When he arrived the giant and his wife were asleep. He poured the yeast between them in the bed. The giant woke in the night and said to his wife: "You are filthy — you have soiled our bed. Hurry to the well and wash the bedclothes!" The wife took the pillow and the rest of the bedding and went to the well. Nikkala crept behind her, snatched the pillow, and made his way back over the sea to the priest.

After some more months, the brothers went to the priest again and said: "We saw in the giant's farm a wagon that always rings — send Nikkala to fetch it!" And so Nikkala came again to the priest. The priest said: "Fetch from the giant's farm the wagon that always rings." Nikkala took his staff and went. When he arrived he hid in the hay in the giant's stable and lay quietly. The giant came out in the evening to feed his horses and pitched the hay — and Nikkala was in the hay; the giant seized him by the ribs. He pressed his fingers into Nikkala's side and said: "You are quite fat — I must fatten you more still." The giant fed him for many days, then went off to gather guests for the feast and told his wife to roast Nikkala while he was away.

The giant's wife told Nikkala to climb into the pot. He climbed up — but he braced his hands on the rim and his feet against the sides, and would not fall in. The wife tried to push him; but Nikkala would not go in right. She grew angry: "Get out of the way! I'll climb in myself so you can see how it is done." When the giant's wife had climbed into the pot, Nikkala put the lid on and roasted her. He fashioned himself wooden stilts so as to pass for her, and waited. The giant returned and looked in the pot and said: "Well, well — that looks just like my wife cooking in there." He spoke to "his wife" — though it was Nikkala he was speaking to: "Go and water the horse!" Nikkala went to the stable, took the wagon and the horse, and made off. The giant was bewildered when his wife did not appear and went looking. By the time he arrived, Nikkala was already far away. The giant called out: "Will Nikkala come here again?" And Nikkala called back: "You will see me no more."

(Saba, 1891.)


27. THE SERVANT BOY, THE DEVIL, AND BISHOP MATTIAS KASTRIM

A boy had been a servant all his life and earned just enough each year to get by. On Saturdays he would go walking alone and think about where he might find better wages. One such Saturday, as he was walking out in the fields after finishing his day's work, a great man came toward him and asked: "What kind of man are you?" The boy answered: "I am a servant boy." "How much do you earn in wages each year?" asked the great man. "Just enough to live," said the boy. "Is it no more than that?" asked the great man. "No," said the boy. "If you will promise to serve me, you shall have wages enough to make you rich within a few years — for I am not one to be close with either board or pay," said the great man. The boy promised to come into his service and asked that the great man fetch him on Midsummer's Day. The great man promised to come as soon as the boy was free from his present service. He gave him pledge-money on it: he took out his purse, told the boy to hold out his hands, poured them full of silver coins, and said he might spend them whenever he wished. And so they parted.

One day the boy went to the shop to buy new clothes for Midsummer. He took out his coins and tried to pay — but the shopkeeper did not recognize them. He had to show them to the magistrate and to the bailiff as well. Neither of them knew them either. Then Bishop Mattias Kastrim heard that the boy had such coins as no one could identify — so he sent word that the boy should come to him and bring the coins along. The boy went at once, came to the bishop, and showed him the coins. "Where did you get these coins?" asked the bishop. "I got them from a great man I am to serve," said the boy. "Do you know what kind of great man that is?" asked the bishop. "No, I do not," said the boy. "It is the devil you have promised yourself to," said the bishop. At that the boy was so frightened he could not say another word. "Do not be afraid," said the bishop. "I will free you." "That would be very good indeed," said the boy. "When does he come for you?" asked the bishop. "He is to come and fetch me as soon as I am free from my present service," said the boy. "Will you stay with me until the time you agreed on arrives?" asked the bishop. "Certainly," said the boy, and he stayed with the bishop.

Midsummer's eve, the bishop led the boy into the church, placed him inside the altar rail, dressed him in vestments, and told him: "He will come three times to fetch you. Do not go — not even if he comes in my own likeness, for that will not be me. Do not believe that it is me, for I will come inside the altar rail myself, take you by the hand, and lead you out. When he comes in a borrowed shape, he cannot cross my footsteps." The bishop then walked so that his footsteps made a cross upon the church floor. He left the boy alone in the church and locked the door. Not long after, the devil entered in the very same great man's guise he had worn when he first enlisted the boy. "Now I have come to fetch you — come along!" he said. The boy made no sound. "Do you not know that today is the day we agreed on?" asked the devil. The boy still did not answer. Then the devil came forward to fetch him — but when he reached the bishop's footsteps he was flung backward through the church door, which burst open behind him. And so the devil went his way that time.

When midnight came, the devil entered again in the bishop's own likeness and said: "Now you may come out freely — he will not come for you again." The boy would not say a single word. The devil went again toward the altar rail; when he reached the bishop's footsteps he was flung back again, flying all the way to the church porch, so that both doors burst open and the devil fell on his back on the outer steps. He grew wrathful: "Stay there, since you were cunning enough to outwit me! Thank that my horns did not reach far enough to touch you — then you would certainly have had to come."

Toward morning, the devil came again in his own shape. The moment he opened the door he called out: "Now you must come with me — even against your will." The boy said nothing still. The devil stormed across the church floor with furious rage, and the tips of his horns came very near to the boy. But when he reached the bishop's footsteps he was flung back once more, hurled through both the church and the outer porch, so that both doors burst open and the devil fell backward onto the steps. He raged: "Stay there, you cunning wretch who managed to trick me! Thank that my horns could not quite reach you — then you would certainly have had to come."

When morning came, the bishop entered, went inside the altar rail, took the boy by the hand, and led him out. But the boy was not yet certain this was truly the bishop — so he held back and resisted until they reached the outer door. "What do you want in return for saving me from that dreadful service?" asked the boy. "I want nothing," said the bishop. "Does it trouble you that I served you for a full year without wages?" asked the boy. "It does," said the bishop. And so after that the boy served the bishop for as long as the bishop lived, and the bishop paid him wages for every year.

(Aikio, 1890.)


28. THE RICH PER KREMMER AND THE LUCKY BOY

Once some fortune-tellers were traveling who could foretell whatever was asked of them. They came to a farm where a woman was in labor. They said: "If the child is born in this hour, it will be the most unfortunate in all the world; but if it is born in the next hour, at the sixth minute, then it will be the most fortunate." The child was born at the time the fortune-tellers had said it would be the most fortunate.

A year later, Per Kremmer came to that farm and heard that the child was the most fortunate in all the world. Envy stirred in him that the child should be more fortunate than he. He resolved to kill the boy, so he went to the parents and said he wished to take the boy as a fosterling, promising that the boy should inherit half his farm after his death. The parents were very willing; they hoped the boy would thus have good fortune.

Per Kremmer took the boy with him and threw him into a mill. The boy fell between the paddles of the millstone in such a way that he came to no harm. The miller came to the mill and found the child on the millstone bench. He took the child and raised him.

Per Kremmer had so many mills that when he traveled from one to the next, seven years passed before he came back to the first. Seven years later he came again to the mill where the boy had been thrown. He heard that the miller had found a child on the millstone bench seven years before. Per Kremmer guessed it was the same boy he had thrown into the mill. He wanted to kill him again. So Per Kremmer said to the miller: "Will you not let the boy carry a letter to my farm?" "He can well do that," the miller replied. Per Kremmer wrote a letter to his wife: "Your husband Per Kremmer sends you many greetings. When the boy brings this letter, hang him from the tree that stands beside my road." When the letter was ready, Per Kremmer sent the boy off with it.

The boy set out with the letter. Coming into a forest, he lay down to sleep. In that forest lived robbers, who found him sleeping with the letter in his hand. They tore it open and read it. Then they took pity on the boy and wrote instead: "Your husband Per Kremmer commands you to hang my dog from the tree by my road. The boy shall stay on my farm until I come; for he is to marry my only daughter and inherit the farm after my death." Then they sealed the letter and went on their way.

When the boy woke, he went to Per Kremmer's farm and gave the wife the letter. When she had read it, she hanged the dog and brought the boy inside. The boy and Per Kremmer's daughter came to like each other.

When Per Kremmer came home and saw his dog hanging in the tree, he thought: "Aha! Now I see well where your luck lies." When he reached the tree and saw it was his black dog, he understood that the boy had such fortune that it was no use trying to kill him. When he came inside and saw the boy, and heard that his daughter wished to marry him, Per Kremmer said: "You shall not marry my daughter until you can answer these questions: Who is richest in money? Who is wisest? And: Where is Solomon's sword?"

The boy took a ship and sailed eastward. As he sailed, the lord of the sea rose up from the water and placed himself before the ship. "Where are you going?" he asked. "I am going to ask: Who is richest in money? Who is wisest? And: Where is Solomon's sword?" "Sail east," said the lord of the sea, "until there is no wind from any quarter. There let yourself down to the bottom — there you will learn everything. If when you return you can tell me how I may be saved, I will do you no harm." The boy sailed on until he came to an island where there was a king. He went ashore. The king asked: "Where are you going?" The boy told his errand. The king said: "Sail further east to the evil spirit's court — there you will find out. When you return, bring my two daughters back with you; I will pay you well for it."

The boy got another ship and sailed on to the next king's harbor. That king heard his errand and asked the boy to put one more question there: "Where are the golden keys to my fortress that I have lost? I will pay you well for it." The boy took his ship and sailed on until there was no wind from any quarter. He went into a glass-vessel and asked to be lowered to the bottom. He was lowered down and came to the evil spirit's court. The evil spirit had made the two king's daughters into — one a kitchen-girl, the other a tree of glass.

The king's daughter asked: "Where are you going?" The boy told her everything. She said: "When the evil spirit comes, he will kill you." "Have no fear for me," said the boy; "I will hide behind the oven. You must question him carefully about everything."

The boy hid behind the oven. The evil spirit came into the kitchen and said: "Where does the smell of Christians come from?" The kitchen-girl answered: "Today a great eagle flew over the house with a human hand in its claw — it was surely a Christian man's hand." Then the king's daughter asked: "If an enemy came upon me, how might I become strong?" "In the chamber, in the cabinet nearest the door, are flasks of strength-drink," said the evil spirit. "Take a draught and you will be strong." "How could my sister become human again?" "In the chamber, in the innermost cabinet, are flasks of water. Pour them into a ladle and sprinkle it three times on the glass-tree, and your sister will become human." "Who is richest in money?" "Per Kremmer is richest in money." "Who is wisest?" "Per Kremmer is wisest." "Where is Solomon's sword?" "On my table in the chamber." "How might the lord of the sea be saved?" "He will be saved if he can drink Per Kremmer's blood." "Where has the lord of our neighbor-king lost the golden keys to his fortress?" "Near the fortress is a great stone; under it are the keys." "How might that king get clean water?" "On the wall hangs a staff. If he could push it under the stone, clean water would flow out." "Where is your life?" "Outside the court stands a great tree; in it is a hen, and in the hen is an egg, and in the egg is my life."

The boy heard all of this. The evil spirit went away on his journey. The boy went into the chamber and opened the innermost cabinet, took the flasks of water, poured them into a ladle, and sprinkled it three times on the glass-tree. Then she became human. He saw Solomon's sword on the table and wanted to take it — but it was so heavy he could not even move it. He opened the nearest cabinet, drank a flask of strength-drink, and gripped the sword; he could barely shift it. He drank a second flask and gripped the sword again — now it was light as a feather. He went out and struck at the tree with Solomon's sword; but the tree held. He went back inside and took another draught. Then he went out and cut the tree through; a hen flew out, but the boy split it, and an egg fell to the earth. He split the egg, and the evil spirit came running home — he had almost reached the boy before the boy could crack the egg. The evil spirit died there.

The boy went inside, took the flasks of strength-drink, Solomon's sword, and the staff from the wall of the chamber. He thought: if he put both girls into the glass-vessel first, they would not be drawn up after him; but if he went in first himself, the girls would not be pulled up either. So he went into the vessel himself and took one of the girls in with him; he tugged the rope, and they were drawn up. He left her on the ship and went back for the other. When the other came into the vessel with him and he tugged the rope, they were drawn up together.

He sailed to the first king's harbor and went ashore. The king asked: "Have you found where the keys to my fortress are?" "Near the fortress is a great stone; under it are the keys." The king ordered his soldiers to move the stone — but they could not shift it at all. "Wait until I have been back to my ship," said the boy. He went aboard, drank the strength-drink, and came ashore. He tried to move the stone — it barely shifted. He took another draught and pushed the stone away; it flew like a ball, and the keys were found beneath it. "Do you wish to have clean water?" asked the boy. "Yes," said the king. The boy fetched the staff from the evil spirit's chamber and pushed it three times into the ground where the stone had stood; clean water began to flow out there. The boy received two shiploads of gold.

He sailed on to the other island, and he and both king's daughters went ashore together. From that king he received two more shiploads of gold. As he sailed from there, the lord of the sea rose from the water: "Have you heard how I may be saved?" "You will be saved if you can drink Per Kremmer's blood." "Go in peace — I will do you no harm," said the lord of the sea.

The boy sailed to the harbor and went ashore. He went to Per Kremmer's farm. "Have you found out who is richest in money?" "Per Kremmer is richest in money." "Who is wisest?" "Per Kremmer is wisest." "Where is Solomon's sword?" "It lay on the evil spirit's table — but now it is on my ship." "What is in your ships?" "All the ships are filled with gold." "Where did you find the gold?" "Gold is to be found by him who has good wisdom."

When Per Kremmer heard this, he bought ships for himself — for he believed he had good wisdom. Per Kremmer set sail. He sailed until the lord of the sea rose from the water and set himself in his way. "What are you?" "I am Per Kremmer." When the lord of the sea heard it was Per Kremmer, he seized him and drove all the ships to the bottom, and Per Kremmer was drowned.

The boy married Per Kremmer's daughter and inherited his farm and all his goods.

(Aikio, 1891.)


32. HOW A SPIDER SAVED A MAN'S LIFE

A man was once walking alone in the forest. The Tjuder caught sight of him and gave chase. The poor man fled and leapt over a hillside, and saw a hole going down into the earth. He crawled inside. A spider came before the opening and spun its web as wide as the hole was. When it had finished spinning and gone away, a Tjude reached the hole and saw the spider's web — then walked on past to his companions.

For this reason there is still, among the old Sami people, the belief that one should not kill a spider; for it once saved a man's life.

(Aikio, 1893.)


33. YOU LED ME OUT YESTERDAY, AND TODAY I LEAD YOU OUT

A man lived at a crossroads that very many travelers used. He provided them with everything they needed, gathered much money and many goods, and lived as a rich man all his life. He had a wife and one son, whom he had sent to high school while still a child, for the boy was to become a great lord by his father's will. The boy was very clever and showed great diligence at first; he made excellent progress. After some years had passed, he began to drink and no longer cared about learning, so he was sent home mid-schooling. When he came home he drank still worse and sat whole nights at the drinking table. At first he drank only with great men and wanted to live like a lord — he would often say: "My father has money and goods enough." But when he could not get as much as he wanted, he began to drink with every drunkard.

Some time later his father fell mortally ill and called his son to him. The boy went to the room where his father lay and sat beside his bed. The father said: "Now I am dying, and this farm — which you will quickly squander — passes into your hands. Within a year or two you will have come to such a pass that no one takes you in; everyone will thrust you out. When that day comes, go along the forest path to the old distillery — there you will see a rope hanging. Hang yourself with it." The boy went out in a fury.

The servants wanted to know what his father had said; they guessed he had been warned of something. "What did your father say to you?" they asked. "He gave me such wise counsel as not even a dog would care to hear," the boy replied.

Not long after the master died, and the boy became master and drank even worse. When his mother saw he could not manage the farm, she sold it and went away. Within a year the boy was so impoverished he had nothing to eat and nothing to clothe himself with.

One evening the new owner held a merry gathering with his guests. They drank spirits and were glad. The boy came in and asked for a glass. The master seized him by the collar and pushed him out and gave him nothing. The boy tried house after house; no one let him in. Then he remembered what his father had told him. He went out to the forest, came to the old distillery, and went inside. He lit a light — and was amazed to see a rope-end hanging there. He climbed up, tied it around his neck, threw away the light, and let himself drop. The rope came loose. He fell unconscious to the floor.

When he came to himself, he began scraping at the floor and felt with his hand that a sack lay beside him. He lit a light — the sack was full of money. He filled his satchel and went.

Early the next morning he went back to the farm and knocked. The master let him in. The boy stood at the door and trembled; for he was afraid. The master thought he was cold and offered him a glass of spirits. "Many thanks for the offer — but I will never drink again. I have come to ask whether you will sell me this farm," said the boy. The guests and the master laughed; they were sure he had no money. The guests tried hard to talk him out of it, but the master at last said: "I would sell the farm at a fair price if someone wished to buy it." "Name your price — I will pay in cash," said the boy. "Pay twenty thousand and the farm is yours," said the master. "Agreed — but draw up the bill of sale," said the boy. In a jesting mood the guests agreed that the best of them should write the deed. When it was done, the boy opened his satchel and counted out silver coins onto the table. When the master saw the farm had changed hands and he had gotten no better deal, he went red: "That was no joke of a purchase!" "What use is it to say so now — the purchase is done and the bill of sale is in my pocket?" said the boy.

The master had no choice but to take his money. And the boy, now master, said: "Yesterday you led me out. Today I lead you out." From that day on he lived happily all his life.

(Aikio, 1893.)


30. TWO BROTHERS LEAVE THEIR FATHER'S FARM

A man had three sons. The eldest was of good nature and willing in all things. But the younger two were good for nothing. One time they took their father's axe and damaged the edge. The father noticed and beat them. Then they grew angry and went away.

As they traveled they lost their way and did not know where they were going. They spent the night in a forest. The next day they climbed a hill, and when they reached the top they saw a town. They went down and entered the town; there they stayed and became students. The elder learned to be a doctor; the younger learned to be a tailor.

When the tailor had already been a tailor for a long time, he went out to sell his clothes. Then an old man came toward him and begged for clothes, saying he could not work; for he was unwell. While he was still speaking, the tailor pointed: "Look — there comes the doctor! Would you like some medicine?" "I would; but what am I to do, since I have no money," answered the old man. Then the doctor asked: "Who are you?" "I am an unlucky man who had three sons. The eldest is dead, and the two went missing in the forest," he told them. "What were those two called?" they asked. "They were called Ola and Pål." "Oh Mattis, our dear father!" they cried. The old man fell to the ground in shock, and they kept him with them for as long as he lived.

Both brothers married. The elder married a woman of high birth, and his wife was proud. For this reason she would not care for her father-in-law. The doctor had to send his father to the tailor's house. The tailor's wife was a fisherman's daughter. She took the old man and placed him in the corner by the door, and fed him from a separate bowl. When he became deathly sick and was already very weak, he called his two sons to him. When they came to him, the old man said to the doctor: "Because you listened to your wife and rejected me, you shall be shamed and become despised." And he said to the tailor: "Because you were so good toward me that you never once grumbled at me, you shall have gentle children."

When their father was dead, the doctor went into a shop and stole money, and he was punished and remained despised for the rest of his life. But the tailor lived happily and was cared for by his children for the rest of his life.

(Aikio, 1893.)


31. THE LAZY AND DIRTY GIRL

In the time when pagans lived in Lappland, the Enare Sami used to carry their aged parents out to islands in the lakes when they grew so old they could no longer work.

There was once an old woman whose daughter was both lazy and bad. She did no work at home. When her mother said to her: "Oh, you lazy one — how will you ever run a household?" the daughter always answered: "You are bad; you are always scolding me."

When her mother had grown so old that she could do nothing but keep the gamme clean, the mother said to her one day: "At this rate there is nothing left but to take you to an island." The daughter grew angry and said: "You are so bad, always blaming me for being dirty and tormenting me with it, that I am going to take you to an island." When the mother heard this, she said: "My daughter, do you not know the use I provide?" "What use?" said the daughter. "I always keep the gamme clean — is that not of great value?" said the mother. "Since you are so bad to me," said the daughter, "I am going to take you to the island all the same." "You will see for yourself," said the mother; "when you take me there, you shall see my fingers in the rubbish — reaching into it." "That is not true," answered the daughter, and she rowed her mother out to the island. When they reached the island she set her mother ashore and rowed back. Her mother called after her: "You will see soon enough that I am no longer keeping your house clean. Farewell!"

When some days had passed and the gamme had filled with rubbish, the daughter saw fingers appearing through the garbage at the wall. She remembered what her mother had said — but she paid no heed. She started to clean the gamme herself; but in the middle of cleaning she stopped: "This is not my work."

Some days later the gamme filled again, and again she saw the fingers reaching from the rubbish. "I have acted wrongly," the daughter said to herself; "for I did not understand what use she was to me — it was of great value that my mother always kept the gamme clean. If she is still alive, I will go and see." And she rowed to the island where she had left her mother.

She came to the island and found her mother lying in a pit lined with birch bark, and the poor old woman had bitten her fingers to the bone from hunger. "I have come to fetch you," said the daughter. "Oh, my daughter," said the old woman; "since I was of no use before, I certainly cannot work anymore now, for I have already eaten my fingers. Since you once brought me here, I will no longer follow you back." The daughter had to go home alone, and she could find no peace until she began to keep her gamme clean herself.

(Aikio, 1888.)


34. THE BAILIFF, THE FARMER, AND THE KING AS COMMONER

There was a bailiff who was exceedingly proud and violent. He had an old mare. He noticed that a certain farmer had a young stallion. He went to the farmer with his mare and asked to trade it for the stallion. The farmer did not want to trade; but the bailiff pressed him hard. The bailiff grew very angry and threatened him with a heavy tax, and in the end promised to reduce the tax if he could have the stallion in exchange for the mare. So the farmer traded his stallion away and got twenty riksdaler in addition. But the mare was so old that with her a man could accomplish nothing.

That same summer the king came to the farmer's farm and asked for a night's lodging. The farmer agreed and did not know it was the king, for he was dressed as ordinary folk; still, he could see the man was not poor. At night the king asked: "Do you not have a horse to sell?" "I might have an old scrap of a mare," the farmer answered; "but she is not worth selling." "Why not?" asked the king. "She is already so old that a man can accomplish nothing with her; for our bailiff cheated a young stallion from me and gave me her in trade." "Now then, let us go and see your mare," said the king. "No, good man, she is not worth the trouble; but we can look all the same," said the farmer. And so they went to the stable.

When the king saw the mare he asked: "How much did you get in exchange for your stallion?" "I got so little that it was nothing compared to what my stallion was worth — I got no more than twenty riksdaler," said the farmer. "How much do you want for the mare?" asked the king. "One cannot rightly ask payment for such a mare." "I will give two hundred riksdaler," said the king. "You know yourself whether you think she is worth it," said the farmer. So the king paid, and wanted the farmer to ride with him to the bailiff to get the stallion back in exchange for the mare. Then the farmer said: "No, good man — our bailiff is not the sort that anyone needs to visit; for he is so proud that few people can get speech with him." "We shall ride anyway; for I have managed with even higher folk than him," the king answered, and persuaded the farmer until at last he agreed to come. "Do you not have an old work-cart?" "I have two; I will give you the better one," said the farmer. The king took the older cart.

So they drove away and stopped at the inn. The king left his mare there and hired a carriage from the innkeeper all the way to the bailiff's gate. When they came outside the bailiff's gate, the king said to his hired driver and to the farmer: "Wait here while I speak with the bailiff," and he went inside. The king knocked on the hall door. "Who is it?" called the bailiff. "I am a traveler," the king answered. "What do you want?" asked the bailiff. "I would like to speak with you," the king answered. "Well, come in then," said the bailiff. "Good day," said the king. "God give it," answered the bailiff. "What is your business?" "I have come to ask whether you will sell me the stallion you have," said the king. "Shame on you — you come to me to buy a horse? I am going to the governor to get a character reference. Get out now!" said the bailiff. "There is no hurry," answered the king. "Are you talking back to me? Do you think I have not seen the likes of you before?" asked the bailiff. "That may well be; but do not be so haughty, for I have managed with even higher folk than you," the king answered. The bailiff sprang up and seized the king by the collar to throw him out. "Be so kind as to wait a moment," said the king. He opened his outer cloak and turned the royal insignia toward the bailiff. When the bailiff saw that it was the king, he was so frightened he fell to the ground.

Then the king asked: "Will you not lend me the stallion you have? For I would like to accompany a bridal party to church tomorrow." "You may take both the stallion and the new wagon on loan," said the bailiff. The king ran out and told the hired driver: "You may go — I have found my own transport," and paid his fare and went back inside.

The king asked: "May I write a letter to the governor here?" "Certainly," said the bailiff. The king wrote that the governor was to remove the bailiff from his post, and set down everything the bailiff had done wrong. When he had finished writing, he went to the stable-hand, and the stable-hand gave him the stallion and the new wagon that the bailiff had bought for his trip to the governor. While the farmer was harnessing the stallion, the king asked the bailiff: "Will you not come tomorrow to honor the young bridal couple?" "I do not have time," said the bailiff. "Since you do not have time, you must come to me at the church steps tomorrow after midday; but you shall say nothing more than a greeting, and everything I ask you must answer briefly." The bailiff agreed. The king told him to bring the mare that was at the inn. Then the king sprang into the wagon. The farmer was astonished and said: "Well, well — you are more than an ordinary man, since you got the young stallion from our bailiff." The king said only: "It would be strange if I could not get from people what I want."

The next day the farmer's son rode out to be married, and the king drove the bridal party to church all the way to the church steps. The bridal couple got out and went inside. The king went out, released the horse, and led it behind the church. When the service was over he came back out, harnessed the horse, and helped the bridal couple into the wagon. As the king was starting to drive back, the bailiff appeared at the church steps with the mare that the king had bought. "Good day," said the bailiff. "God give it," answered the king. "Now — will you not honor the young bridal couple?" asked the king. "I will," said the bailiff. "Will you give the bridal pair the stallion along with the wagon?" asked the king. "I will," said the bailiff. "Then you are free to go."

When the celebration was over, the king continued his journey and never told anyone he was the king. The farmer was left wondering. The bailiff went later to the governor and presented the letter. When the governor read it he removed the bailiff from his post. Only after that did the farmer learn that it had been the king. And so he said: "I already saw that — he was more than an ordinary man."

(Aikio, 1895.)


Colophon

Source: J. Qvigstad (ed.), Lappiske eventyr og sagn, Vol. I (Oslo: H. Aschehoug & Co., 1927), Tales 9, 11, 22, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, and 34. Jens Andreas Qvigstad (1853–1957) was a Norwegian linguist and ethnographer who spent decades collecting Sami oral tradition across Norway and Finland. His four-volume bilingual collection — North Sami text with Norwegian translation — remains the largest published corpus of Sami folk narrative.

Translation: Good Works Translation by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Translated from the North Sami original (1927 orthography), with Qvigstad's Norwegian translation consulted as a semantic guide. The 1927 Sami orthography predates the 1978 North Sami Orthography Reform; the source text spelling is preserved in citations. Tales 9, 11, and 29 were told by Saba (1891); Tales 22 and 26 were told by Aikio (1891–1892); Tale 27 was told by Aikio (1890); Tales 28, 30, 32, and 33 were told by Aikio (1891–1893); Tale 31 was told by Aikio (1888); Tale 34 was told by Aikio (1895). No prior English translation of these tales is known to exist.

The term gan'då (gand) appears in Tales 9, 11, 22, and 27, and preserves a specifically Sami cultural concept: the gand is a magical projection or spirit-familiar associated with noaidi (shamanic) power. In several of these tales the protagonist is named by this power — a youth who possesses it, whether consciously wielded or inherited. The "Christmas Stallos" (juowilåstalok) are Stallo figures, the great monster-spirits of Sami tradition, here appearing in their Yule-season aspect as winter spirits who haunt the roads at the turning of the year. The jettånås in Tale 9 is the same figure — the Sami giant who eats people — encountered under a Norwegian-influenced name (rise/jettånås) reflecting the coastal Sami oral tradition that Qvigstad collected in Finnmark. Bishop Mattias Kastrim in Tale 27 is a historical figure: Mattias Kasturinen, bishop of Turku (Åbo) in the sixteenth century, known in Sami tradition as a protector against supernatural threat.

Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

🌲


Source Text

Tale 26 — Nieidå Marja mat'ike Elisabet oap'pålad'dåm varas

Go Marfja oa330i dåm gullåt, åtte Elisabet læ mana vuosttai, de vulgi son su luså. Go son bodi Jordandænno-gad'dai, dåst gawnåi son guså. De dåddja Mar'ja: "Læge nu buorre, åtte guoddak mu rås!ta dæno!" Gusså fas'tedi: "Im mon åstå du guod'det; dåstgo im mon læk vela o3'Zum gål'las guottot." De fasttedi Mar'ja: "Don gålgåk guottot; muttu Coawjad goppe i gålgå dievåbun Såd'dåt; muttu ow'dål don gålgåk vai'båt guottomest go gål'lanet." Dåmditti læ åin dalge gusså; go orost guottomest, de livvo dållanågå; muttu go dåst Cuoz'Zel, de riemma dåt fåståin guottot.

Mar'ja vulgi åin vaz'zet jå bodi heppus guow'do. De dåddja son dammain: "Guodde don mu rås'a dæno!" "Im mon riemå du guod'det, åmås dåt Giw'gå ur'mot, mi mu CCoawje sis'te læ," fas'tedi dam'ma. De dåddja Mar'ja: "Go don mu ik guod'dam dæno råsta, de gålgåk don guod'det du Giwgå birrå jåge du Coawjad sis'te."

De vulgi son åin vag'zet jå gawnåi njoammelå. Marja dåddja: "Guodde don mu dæno rås'ta!" "Im mon åstå; dåstgo mon im læk vela gættåm ålcém goattemuoråid; dåstgo mon aigom goade rakkådet boat'te dal!vai," fasttedi njoammel. Mar'ja celki njoammelin: "Don gålgåk gæk'kåt obbå ællem-aigad goade rakkådet; muttu ik gålgå goas'sege sællgåt." Dåmditti gækka njoammel åin dalge juokke dalve, go læ buolås: "Jos mon gæse raddjai ælam, de aigom mon ålcém goade huffsit boat'te dalvvai." Muttu go gæsse læ boattam, de lavé son åin dåddjåt: "O, i dallve læk dalvid gårråsåb'bu."

Marfja vulgi åin vag'zet jå oini fin'dår. De dåddja Marja: "Vuoi dam Gabbå fin'dår!" Findår bijåi bonnjot njalmes jå jew'Zåli: "Vuoi dam Gabbå fin'dår!" De dåddja Marfja: "Sikke du jå du sokkågoddest gållga orrot njallme, nuvtgo don læk biddjåm." Dåmditi læ dal buok duol!'bå gulin bonnjot njallme.

Marfja månåi åin su mat'kases. De fåtti son guowZå. Marja goCCoi guowZå guod'det rås'ta dæno. Guow'Zå fas'tedi: "Mon læm gålle vai'bam; muttu mon aigom ålmåken du gæd&ålet guod'det rås'ta dæno. No, Cokkan dal mu Gielge ålå jå doalå mu vuowtåin gid'då!" Marja Cokkani guowZå sælge ålå, jå guow'Zå vuojåi rås'ta. Go soai bodigå dom bællai dæno, de dåddja Mar'ja: "Dåstmånnel gålgåk don oaddet dalve gæsSos; muttu ik gålgå nælge dow'dåt, dåmditti go mu læk nu mielåst guod'dam dæno rås'ta." Dåmditti lavé dal guow'Zå oaddet juokke dalve.

(Aikio 1891.)

Tale 29 — Gan'då, gutte nai'tåli ennines

Muttomen læiga guof'te noaide, gæk jodigå baikest bai'kai jå enostæiga våike måid. De bodigå soai muttomen ovtå dallui; de læ dåm dalost saw'zå guoddestuvvåmen. Nub'be dåddja: "Månné moai æm vækket duom sawzå?" Nubt!be fåst dåddja: "Vækketivæ&ime moai gål; muttu gum'pé, dåt borra dåm lab'ba." Saw'zå guddi lab'ba, jå labbes eli gid'då Gåf'Ci. Go Cåf'Gå Såddåi, de njuvvé dåm dalo ollmuk dåm lab'ba. De bodigå fåståin dåk guoff'te noaide dåm sæmma dallui. De læi dålle æmedgis mana riegådåt'temen. Ollmuk got&cuk dåm guoff'te gål; muttu ålmå son jo god'da aGGes jå ennines fåståin nai'tål. Ate jå æn'ne æva jak'"kam dåm; dåstgo soai oinigå, åtté lab'bai i såd'dåm nuvt, movt soai læiga enoståm.

De muttomen vus'sé si dåm lab'ba biergoid, måid noaideguovtes læiga enoståm bor'rut gum'pi. Dego leddjé duolldåm biergok, de dollvu si dåm males-ruito olgus Goas'kot, jå jiesåk månné buokak vis!tai. De bodi gum'pé jå boråi buok dåid biergoid jå jugåi vela rådde dåinå (son aigoi god'det mana); muttu æn'ne dåddja: "I darbås god'det mana; muttu rakkåd dåggar litte, mi jækka Case, jå bijå mana dåm siså jå bal'kést merri!" Boan'nja dågåi nuvt. Manna bid'djujuvvui litte siså jå bal'késtuvvui merri. Lit'te riewdåi muttom sullui jå gaw'nujuvvui muttom ållmast, gutte valdi mana jå båjasgesi su.

Go son læi Såd'dåm olles olmu3en, de vulgi son jottet jå bodi ovtå dallui. Dåså månåi ræn'gån. Muttomen åddi æmed sunnjé bisso jå dåddja: "Månå on'ne iddji fak'tit bældo, jå jos offtåge boatta dokku bældo luså, de læ son suolå, jå don oazzok baGtet dåm." Ræn'gå dågåi dåm. Dego son læi orrum oanekåssi, de oai'na son ollmu vag"zemen bældost; son basi dållanågå su. Dåt læi ised, gæn son basi; dåstgo ised i læm dållé dåst, go æmed bijåi rængås fak'tit bældo. Æ»med Såddåi læs'kån, jå ræn'ga nai'tåli suinå. De læva soai muttomen sawnest; de fuommaåi gal'20 have boannjas råddest jå jæråi: "Månné læ havve du råddest?" Boan'nja mui'tåli dåm, åtté månné sust læi havve råddest, jå buok su ællemgærdes birrå. De æs'kå fuommaii æn'ne, åtte dåt læi su bar'ne, gæin son læi nai'tålåm.

(Saba 1891.)


Tale 11 — Gan'då Já Biru

Offtå gan'då balkåli gollmå jåge; gollmå ewré oa730i balkast, jå dåin golmåin ewrin osti son gollmå lai'be-Calastågå, jå de vulgi jottet. Dego son læi jottam oanekés matke, de bodi of'tå boares galles su owdåld jå dåddja: "Ådde munnjé borråt; muon læm næl'gomen jå fårgå juo jamam." Gan'då dåddja: "Must læ dusse gollmå lai'be-Calastågå; muttu åddam muon ålmaken dunnjé ovtå." Dego dåt boares galles læi borråm dåm lai'be-Galastågå, de åddi son gan'di lawkå dåggar: oa770i savvåt våiké måid dåm lawka siså.

Dego gan'då læi vaz'zåm oanekåssi, de boatta nub'be boares galles su owdåld jå dåddja: "Muon læm nu nel'gum, åtté fårgå juo jamam; ikgo åddasi munnjé borråt?" Gan'då åddi sunnjé nubbe lai'be-Calastågå, jå dåt boares galles åddi gan'di dåggar burså, åtté måst æi goas'sege nogå rudåk.

Dego dat gan'då fåståin læi vaz'zam oanekåssi, de boatta goalmad galles jå dåddja: "Muon læm nu næl'gomen, åtté fårgå juo jamam; ådde munnjé borråt!" Gan'då åddi sunnjé mågemus lai'be-Galastågås, jå jies basi nuvta; muttu go dåt boares galles læi borråm, de åddi son gan'di dåggar spælåid, åtté måiguim dusse gålgåi vuoi'tet dåt gan'då.

Dego dåt gan'då læi åin vag'zemen, de oai'na son Cuonnjagid øir'demen; de jur'deli dåt gan'då: "Våre duok loddek boadaseddjé mu lawkå siså!" De botté dåk su lawkå siså. Dego son åin læi vaz'zam oanékåssi, de bodi son muttom gawpugi, muttu dåm gawpug as'sek leddjé oaddemen; dåstgo dallé læi iddjå. Gan'då månåi ovtå laså ålå jå goalkoti dåm. Ised dåddja: "Gi læ dåt?" Gan'då dåddja: "Muon dattusim iddjåsåje," jå Cajeti dåid Cuonnjagid jå dåddja: "Daid åddam muon dunnjé, jus don åddak munnjé iddjåsåje." Ised dåddja: "Læ must offtå vis'te olgubæl'de gawpug; muttu dåst ik bal'lé orrot; dåstgo biru assa dåm vistest." Gan'då dåjåi: "O, gål muon orom dåst."

Gan'då åddi Cuonnjagides isedi jå månåi dåm vis'tai. Dego son læi orrum oanekåssi dåm vistest, de boatta biru jå dåddja: "Gi mu vistest læ?" Gan'då dåddja: "Æmgo moai spælåst?" Biru dåddja: "Noh, spælåsten'ne." De algigå soai spällåt, jå biru vuoiteti. De suttåi biru jå dåddja: "Must æi nogå rudåk goas'sege." Gan'då dåddja: "Æi mustge nogå goas'sege rudåk, jå mu bursåst i læk obbå bon'nege." Biru dåddja: "Im jakke, åtté du bursåst i læk bon'ne." Gan'då dåddja: "Canå mu burså siså jå gæCCå, åtté lægo bon'ne." Dego biru månåi burså siså, de bijåi gan'då bursås gid'då jå bijåi oaives vuollai jå nokkåi.

Idedest bodi dåm viste ised jå jæråi: "Noh, movt bir'gijik?" Gan'då dåddja: "Burist muon bir'gijim," jå Cajeti bursås jå dåddja: "Dam sis'te læ juo biru." De riemåi anotet biru dåm gandåst dåm, åtté son gålgåSi luovos luoiltet su. Gan'då dåddja: "Im muon luoite." Biru fåst dåddja: "Jus don luoitak mu luovos, de muon månåm erit obbå dam gawpugést muttom appe-sul'lui. Jus muon vela boadam dei'ké, de oaZzok don god'det mu; muttu jus donge boadak dokku, de muon goddam du." Gan'då miedåi dam ar'valussi jå luiti luovos dåm biru, jå biru månåi muttom appe-sul'lui.

Muttomén vulgi dåt gan'då sukkåt gar'bain oag'gom ditti gulid; muttu de dågåi dåggar gårrå dalke, åtté gan'då i væddjam sukkåt gad'dai, muttu riewdåi muttom appe-sul'lui. Dego gan'då bodi dåm sullui, de riemåi son vuos'såt gulid; muttu so son læi vuos'Såmen, de oai'na son biru boattemen båddjel sulli nu såggå, åtté semmulåk vela jorrék. Dego biru bodi gandå luså, de dåddja son: "Dal don læk boattam dam sul'lui, gost muon læm; dal muon aigom borråt du." Gan'då dåddja: "Åle juo vuost, ow'dålgo muon dam guolle-ruitoge vuossåm jå boråm." Biru viegåd birrå dolå jå njegzutåd'da jå dåd'dja: "Jogo don læk ow'dål oai'nam dåggar Cållamid?" Gan'då dop'pi dåm duol'de ruito jå lei'ki biru Gålmi njæilgå jå dåjåi: "Jogo båt don læk mai'stam dåggar lieg'gås?" De vulgi biru battårussi viekkåt, jå gan'då sukkåli erit, jå dåm lakkai bæsåi son erit biru lut'te.

Muttom aige gæsest de nai'tåli gan'då, jå su ak'ka riegådåtti bar'nemana; muttu æva soai o7'Zum fad'dårid. De vaz'za muttomén son mæccest jå læ morråsest, go i oa330 fad'dårid; muttu de oai'na son ovtå ollmu boattemen, jå dåt olmus læi jammem. De dåddja dåt gan'då dåin jammemin: "Ikgo don månå munnjé faddåren?" Jammem dåddja: "Månåm muon gål." Dego manna læi riståsuvvum, de åddi jammem rist-bar'nases dai'gåsid jå dåjåi dåm mana aC'Cai: "Don oazzok buoradåd'dåt, dåssa3i go mu rist-bar'ne ap'padésgoatta. Muttu go don oainak dåm, åtté muon læm buoc'cest oaive-gætten, de dållé ik gålgå buoredet; muttu go muon le7'Zim julgi gæGten, de dållé gål oaZzok buoredet." De Såddåi son dalkåstæd'djen.

De buoc'cai gonågås-niei'då, jå gonågås viezZåti dåm ållma jå gocCoi buoredet su nieidå. Dåt ålmai oai'na, åtté jammem læi oaive-gætten; dåmditti læi son il'la buoredet. Gonågås dåddja: "Go juo læk dalkåstæd'djé, de fer'tik buoredet." De fer'ti buoredet son su. De dåddja jammem dåin ållmain: "Ikbe jægådåmge mu; muttu im vela godde du. Muttu jus dåm dåjåk åtté 'gasnin', de muon du goddam." Dås'tu månåi jammem dåm ål'ma vis'tai jå Gali sæi'nai 'gasnin'. Almai bodi dallusis jå jæråi gallgostes: "Dongo læk Gallam dode sæi'nai?" Gallgo dåddja: "Måid?" Boan'nja dåddja: "Duode sæi'nai nuvt: gasnin." De jammem dåddja: "Dal muon valdam du." Almai dåddja: "Ale vuost, ow'dålgo muon valdam law'kåm jå spælåidåm." Dego son læi valldam lawkås jå spælåides, de valdi jammem su jå doalvoi hel'véti jå jæråi: "Lægo dat ålmai dei'ké dok'kalås, gutté læ hirmos giew'rå spällåt?" Biru dåddja: "Læ gål." De dåddja ålmai: "Spælåsten'né moai!" De riemåigå soai spällåt, jå gan'då vuiti man'gå Cuode sielo birust. De dåddja biru jåmmemin: "I dat ålmai læk dei'ké dok'kalås."

De vulgi jammem doal'vot dåm ållma ållmai. Dego soai bodigå ållmai, de jæråi jammem: "Lægo dat ålmai dei'ké dok'kalås, gutté læ hirmos giew'ra spällåt?" "I læk," celki Immel. "Noh, lægo dåk ollmuk dok'kalåzåk, måid dat ålmai læ vuoiltam helvéltest?" "Læ gål," fasttedi Immel. De val!'degotté æn'gélak dåm ållma lawkå, mån sis'te dåk sielok, måid son læi vuoiltam hel'vétest. De savvåli son: "Våre muonge dom lawkå siså!" De Såddåi son dåm lawkå siså jå bæsåi ål'mai.

(Saba 1891.)


Tale 22 — Juowilåstalok, Gan'då Já Pap'på

Muttom ål'mast læi gan'då, sæst læi hallo oap'påt. AGCestes oappåi son skutltaren; muttu dåså son i lii'kum; son halidi Såd'dåt Cuojåtæd'djen. De goddoi su aC'Ce, åtte gan'då gållga Coag'get ålcés GieSå galbenakkid jå golmå æb'barid. Gan'då dågåi nuvt. Go su ae buoccågodi jammem-dawdå, de got0oi, åtte gan'då gållga oddå bæive ijå (oddåjåge bæive Cuow'ganæmmai) månnåt Cok'kat dåggar viste bællai, mi læ sir'dujuvvum golmå såddjai jå "valde dåid galbenakkid meldad, Cokkan jieSs ovtå ålå jå bijå ovtå æb'barå oai'vasåd! Val!'det gålgåk guoffte muorråbitta jå såddjet dåid offti; ik don gålgå suor'gånet, jos don måid oainak dåihe gulåk." Ålmai jami, jå gan'då Såddåi morråsi.

Go boares jåkke nogåi, de månåi gan'då Cok'kat dåm aite gurri, mi gulåi algost su ad'djai jå læi sirdujuvvum golmå såddjai. Gan'då algi dåid guof'te muorråbitta of'ti såddjet, jå æbber oroi su oaive ål'de. De botté 3 juow'låstalo su luså jå jerré: "Måid don bårgåk min luoddå ål'de? Dust mi gålle oaive erit bonjåstep," jå si dop'pijeddjé æb'barå erit oaive ål'de jå månné mat'kasæsek. Gan'då bijåi nubbe æb'barå oaives ålå jå algi åin såddjet. De botté oppet juow'låstalok jå dåddjek: "Åingo don læk orromen min luoddå ål'de? Muttu dal don gålgåk oaivad lap'pet," jå si dop'pijeddjé æb'barå erit jå månné mat'kasæsek. Gan'då bijåi goalmad æb'barå oai'vases jå algi åin såddjet. De botté oppet juowllåstalok jå jerré: "Måid don dal bårgåk?" "Guojåtivcim, jos sattaSim," fas'tedi gan'då. "Gål mi du oappåtep," dåddjé juow'låstalok. Gan'då leb'bi galbenakkid sin vuollai, jå si al'gé oappåtet Cuojåtet. Go ided Såddåi, de åd'dé si sunnjé uccå njallme-fiolås jå valldé buok dåid galbenakkid balkast.

Gandåst læi fiol dåggarås: go son dåm riemåi Cuojåtet, de al'gé buok æl'lek dan'sit. Muttom bæive månåi gan'då mær'cai, jå pap'på bodi su owdåld. Pap'på oini, åtte gandå giedåst læi daw'ge; de gotCoi pap'på: "Base don munnjé dom loddas!" "Jos don aigok jies viez'Zåt muoråst, de dålle gålle baSam," fasttedi gan'då, jå pap'på loppedi dåm dåkkåt. Gan'då basi, jå pap'på goarnoi murri. De valdi gan'då fiolås jå algi Cuojåtet. Buok loddek rimme dan'sit, jå pap'på måidai dan'si muoråst jå bid'gi bifftåsides, jå giedåk Såd'dé arbåi vuollai. De suttåi pap'på jå guoddåli esséval'dai, åtte gan'då læ su doarotåm jå gåikudam sust biffråsid. Gan'då Såddåi esséval'de-ow'di, jå pap'på Cajeti sikke bif'tåsides jå giedåides; papåst æi læm æra duodåstæd'djek go bif'tåsåk jå giedåk. Gandåst dum'mijuvvui oai'le erit Cup'pujuvvut.

Gol'lmå bæive dåstmånnel valdiga CæveCuop'pe-guovtos su mær'cai, jå ænnågåk, sikke hærrak jå allmug-oll'muk GCuvvu sin. Pap'på læi måidai sin gåskåst. Go si botté dåm bai'kai, gost gandåst gålgåi Cæve Cup'pujuvvut, de dåddja gan'då: "Di ar'mogås hærrak, mon anom dist love åtte Cuoddjålåt'tet vela diddjidi mui'ton, ow'dålgo mon vuolgam dåm majilmest erit." Pap'på i suovå; dåstgo son didi dåm, åtte movt dal gævva; muttu ærrasåk åd'dé love. De dåddja pap'på: "Jos di åd'debettét love Cuojåtet, de Cånnet mu gid'då!" De Gånné si pappå gid'då bad'degæGai, jå nubbe gæse fåst murri. De algi gan'då Cuojåtet, jå dåk, gudek leddjé dåst, al'gé dan'sit; pap'på måidai dan'si bad'degæsest. Gan'då Cuojåti, dåssa8i go pap'på sor'rui murri jå gåikudi bif'tåsides jå gjedåk Såd'dé havi vuollai. De dåddja gan'då: "Dål di gål'lgåbettét dum'mit, åtte doarotimgo mon dal pappå." "Ik ei'sege," fasttededdjé buokåk. "Dal di oazzoidek diettet, åtte pap'på læ værrot mu guoddålåm din owdåst," celki gan'då jå Gil'gi a55e visut. De ar'vededdjé si, åtte gan'då læ mainetæmme, jå lui'té luovos; muttu pappåst Cæve Cup'pujuvvui.

Gan'då månåi su dallusis jå halidi nai'tålet. Son goGCoi gol'må Cabbå nieidå lusås boattet. Go dåk nieidåk siså botté, de algi gan'då Cuojåtet jå nieidåk dan'sit. De jærråli son: "Lægo dåk nieidåk fuorak?" "Læ," fasttedi bæw'de su owdåst, gutte dan'si boassomusåst; oammån fas'tedi su owdåst, gutte dan'si gåskåmusfta, jå uf'så su owdåst, gutte dan'si uskemusåst. Go gan'då gulåi, åtte dåk nieidåk læk fuorak, de goGcoi son dåid olgus månnåt jå goGCoi fåståin gollmå æra Cabbå nieidå boattet. De botté gollmå æra nieidåk siså, jå gan'då CuojåtiSgodi, muttu nieidåk dan'sijeddjé. Gan'då jærråli: "Lægo dåk nieidåk fuorak?" "Læ," fasttededdjé bæw'de, oammån jå uf'så. Gan'då gotCoi sin olgus månnåt jå goGCoi æra Cabbå nieidåid lusås boattet. De vullgé gollma Gabbå nieidåk su luså. Oft'å sist læi gullåm dåm, åtte movt læi gævvåm dåidi nieidåidi, gudek ow'dål leddjé dåm gandå lut'te ællam. Son coggåi oammån-raigai njuos'kå faccåid, nuvt åtte gan'då i diettam dåm. Go nieidåk siså botté, de algi gan'då CuojåtiSgodi, muttu nieidåk dan'sijeddjé. De jærråli gan'då: "Lægo dåk nieidåk fuorak?" "Læ," fasttedæiga bæw'de jå uf'sa; muttu oammån oroi javotågå. Gan'då jæråi kælllarest: "Mi læ suddjån oammånest, go i halå?" "Cacce-njuos'kå faccåk læ raige ow'di cak'kujuvvum." Dal ar'vedi gan'då, åtte muttom dåinå nieidåin læi dåm dåkkåm. Son gotoi dåidge erit ige Såt halidåm Gabbå nieidåid vallljit. Gan'då månåi gonågåså dallui, jå gonågås lii'kui sunnjé jå naiti nieidås dåm gan'di.

(Aikio 1892.)


Tale 9 — Moariseid Oc'cek

De leddjé golmå vielljås; guovtes læva stuorrak, ja ofltå, gæn
nåmmå læ Nik'kala, son læ uc'ce Såddost, våiku son læ boares.
De dåddjåb boarrasåb'bu vielljåk dåm, åtté soai ai'gob vuollget
moar'seid occåt. Nik'kalå dåddja, åtté: vallde suge! Soai cæl'keba
dåm, atté: ,ik don goasta vaz'zet.* Nik'kala fåst dåddja, åtté: ,gålle
doai guod'debæt'te mu.* De vullgé si jottet; Nik'kala bijåigå soai
lawkå siså. Dego si leddjé jottemen, de botté si ovtå gar'dem luså.
Oftta vuorås ålmai bodi gar'demist olgus jå jæråi: ,Goså dåk
nuorrå ållmak vullgé?* Soai fasttedæiga: ,Moar'seid occåt.*
Boares fåst dåddja: ,Must læ gollmå nieidå, jå doai læppe guovta.*
De Nik'kala Guor'vogodi: ,Muon måida darbåsåm.* Boares ålmai
gotcoi sin siså jå rakkådi guos'se-mal'asid jå goGCoi sin borråt.
Dego si leddjé borråm, de bijåi son sin nok'kåt jes gutteg moar'ses
luså. Nik'kala moar'se læ ucl'ce jå jålå. Nik'kala jæråi moar"-
sestes: ,Måk dåk gul'lujek Suonnåmen?* Niei'då fas'tedi: ,Dåk
læk aGGe silba-vawnåk, måk Sunnék ale.* Nik'kala: ,Mi dot læ
boattålid?* Niei'då: ,Go aC'&e dåst jugest, de son Sådda nu giew'rå,
åtté i nåkkas offtåge.* Nik'kala: ,Månen dot soab'be an'nu?*
Niei'då: ,Dåinå sobbin aC&e lavé jottet mæråi rås'ta.* De ar'vedi
Nik'kala, åtte dal æi læk si rivtes dalost. Nik'kala oai'na ovtå
miekke, mi hæn!'ga sæinest. Son månåi dåm miekke luså jå aigoi
valdet erit sæinest; muttu i væddjam obbå likkåtetge. Son månåi
dåm boattål luså jå jugesti ovtå gærde; muttu i vela væddjam
likkåtet; jugesti nubbe gærde; de veji juo likkåtet. Son jugesti
goalmad gærde, jå go son gæCdåli valldet miekke, de læi nu gæppås
dego nii'be. De Guolåi son dåin nieidåin oivid erit jå rawkåi viel-
ljåides jå dåddja: ,Vuol'gop mi erit dam dalost; dåstgo dåt i læk
rivtes dallo.* Dat boares ålmai læi jettånås, gutte lavi oll'muid borråt.

Nik'kalå dåddja: ,Dal mi gållgåp vuollget vaz'zet rås'ta mærå,
jå doai gållgåbæt'te vaz'zet mu luoddåi miel'de.* Nik'kala valdi dåm
soabbe, miekke jå boattål mieldes, jå de vullgé si vag'zet mærå
miel'de. De fuommaåi jettånås jå viegåi soabbes luså; muttu soab'be
læi jaw'kåm. Son viegåi mærrågad'dai jå Cuorvoi: ,Velago Nik'kala
ælla dabbe?* Nik'kala Guorvoi: ,Ælam mon gålle.* De si månné
rås'ta mærå jå botté bappå dallui. Bappåst læi offtå niei'då; de
allgé si dåså irgastållåt; muttu niei'då rakkest Nik'kala buorebut
go duom guoffta. Soai månåigå bappå luså jå dåddjåbå bappåin nuvt:
,Nik'kala læ aibås fuones ålmai, jå du niei'då su rakkesta. Moai
oinimå jettånåså gar'demest ovtå æb'bar, mi læi dussé gollest, jå
dåm don gålgåk god'&ot su viez'Zåt.* Bap'på goGcoi Nik'kala
lusås jå dåddja: ,Jus don vieZZåk jettånåså gar'demest gol'le-æb'bar,
de oazzok mu nieidå; muttu jus ik buvtis, de ik oa330.*

Nik'kala valdi saltid skæppå jå vulgi. Son månåi jettånåså dallui
suole, nu atté jettånås i diettam, jå guow'la ræppenraige siså. Jettånås
læ male vuos'såmen. Nik'kala lei'ki dåm salltéskæppå jettånåså
malleruito siså. Jettånås luiti malleruite jå goCCoi gallgos goai'vot;
muttu go soai algigå gåz'zåt, de dåt læi, malle, nu saltes, åtté jettånås
i sattam gåz'zåt. Jettånås suttåi gallgos ålå jå dåddja: ,Månen
vus'Sik nu salta? Månå går'gå gaivo luså jå viez'Zå Gase.* Jettå-
nåså gallgo valdi dåm gol'le-æb'bar jå månåi viez'Zåt Case. Nik'kala
månåi gaivo luså jå hoi'gådi jettånåså gallgo gaivo siså jå valdi æb'-
barå. De månåi son rås'ta mærå jå bodi bappå dallui.

Dego son oroi moad'dé mano, de oppet månåigå vielljåguovtes
bappå luså jå dåddjåbå: ,Moai oinimå dobbe ovtå guodda, måst
leddjé bæivas, manno jå nastek; gotcot gålgåk Nik'kala viez'Zåt
dåm.* Bap'på dåddja: ,Don Nik'kala gålgåk viez'Zåt jettånåså
gar'demest guodda, måst læ bæivas, manno jå nastek.* Nik'kala
dåddja: ,Adde munnjé ovtå boattål jieste!* Son oa730i dåm jå
vulgi. Dego son bodi jettånåså gar'demi, de læi jettånås gal'goines
oaddemen. De son lei'ki dåm boattål jettånåså-guoflta gas'ki. Jettå-
nås ik'ko moréd jå dåddja gallgoines: ,Muttu læk don nuos'ke, go
mun'nu såje luttijék; månå går'gå gaivo luså jå båssål dåid gawnid!*
Gal'go valdi guodda jå æra gawnid jå månåi gaivo luså. De Nik'kala
njagåi sælgebæle jå dop'pi guodda jå månåi fåst rås'ta mærå bappå luså.

Dego Nik'kala læi orrum moad'dé mano, de fåståin månåigå
vielljåk bappå luså jå dåddjåbå: ,Moai oinimå vownåid jettånåså
gar'demest, måk Sunnék ale. GoCCo Nik'kala viez'Zåt dåid!* De
Nik'kala muttomén boatta bappå luså; bap'på dåddja: ,Viez'Zå
jettånåså gar'demest dåggar vownåid, måk Sunnék ale!* Nik'kala
valdi soabbes jå vulgi. Dego son bodi jettånåså bai'kai, de månåi
son stalljå ålå suini siså jå nodoi dokku. Jettånås vulgi ækkedest
hæstås biem'måt jå dop'pi dåid suinid, måk leddjé stalljå ål'de.
Måid dågåi? Go dop'pi, de Nik'kala dåi suini sis'te læi, jå fatti
su gid'då. Son raigåi sust Genkis jå dåjåi: ,Don læk nu ruoinås;
du muon fer'tim biddjåt buoi'dot.* Dego son læi biem'måm moad'dé
bæive, de vulgi jettånås hæddjå-ollmuid GCok'kit jå goCCoi gal'gos
stei'kit dåm Nik'kala, dåm boddo go son dobbe læ.

Jettånåså gal'go godto Nik'kala månnåt ruito siså. Nik'kala
månåi ruito siså; muttu son bijåi giedåides roan'kot jå julgides cæg'-
got; de i dok'kim lok'ke ålå. Jettånåså gallgo oappåt; muttu i
Nik'kala månå riefftå. De suttåi jettånåså gallgo jå dåddja: ,Månå
erit don! Gålle mon månåm ruito siså, våi oainak, åtté movt gålgga.*
Dego jettånåså gallgo månåi ruito siså, de Nik'kala bijåi gid'då lokke
jå stei'ki dåm jettånåså gallgo. Son rakkådi ålcés muorrå-julgid, våi
båddjelåssås. Jettånås bodi jå gæCCålåsti mallasest jå dåddja: ,Hei hei!
våi dåt læ dego mu gallgo gannes.* Son dåddja gal'goines (våiku dåt
læ Nik'kala, gæinå son sarnud): ,Månå jå ådde hes'ti Gase!* Nik-
kala månåi stalljå luså jå valdi dåid vownåid jå hæstå. Jettånås aibå-
SåSgodi, go jawkåi gallgo; de vulgi gæt. Dego bodi, de Nik'kala
læi juo guk'ken. De Guorvoi vela: ,Velago Nik'kala ælla dåbbe?*
De Nik'kala Guorvoi: ,Im 3åt æle.*

(Saba 1891.)


Tale 27 — Ræn'gå-Gan'då, Biru Já Bis'må Matias Kastrim

Muttom gan'då lavi bal'vålet obbå ællem-aiges jå oa7Z0i jåkkasågåt
dåm måde go eli (ai'ga bodi). Lavårdågå lavi son vaz'zet offtu jå
jurdåsi dåm, åtte gost son galgåsi æneb balka oa7'Zot. Dåi jur'dågi-
,Ikgo don oa230 æm'bu?* jæråi dåt hær'ra fåståin. ,Im,* fas'tedi
gan'då. ,Jos don loppedåk munnjé ræn'gån, de don gålgåk oa7'Zot
balka nuvt ænnåg, åtte moadde jågest gålgåk rig'got; dåstgo im mon
lave hanastållåt, im borråmusåin imge balkain,* celki dåt hær'ra. De
loppedi gan'då ræn'gån jå goCGCoi, åtte dåt hær'ra gålgga viezZ'Zåt
miccåmar-bæive (d. I. 24. juni), jå dåt hær'ra loppedi, åtte son boatta
viez'Zåt dållanågå månnelgo bæssa bal'vålusåst luovos. Dåt hær'ra
åddi besté (giettårudå) dåm båddjeli, valdi bursås jå goCCoi goamme-
rides geilgét ow'dån jå lei'ki silbårudåid goammeri dievvå jå åddi
love, åtte son oa2'20 ånnet dåid rudåid, goas jies dattus. De ærra-
næiga soai goab'båg guoimestæska erit.

Muttom bæive vulgi gan'då krampuv'di oas'tem varas ålcés oddå
bifftåsid miccåmar-bæi'vai. Son gætCådi biftåsid, valdi rudåid jå
aigoi maffset bif'tåsi owdåst; muttu gaw'pe-ålmai i dow'dåm dåid
rudåid; dåmditti fer'ti Gåjetet sikke lænsmån'nai jå sun'dai. Muttu æva
soaige dow'dåm. De oa70i gullåt bis'må Matias Kastrim, åtte dåm
gandåst læk dåggar rudåk, måid æi off'tåge dowdå; dåmditti vuolgåti
sane dåm gan'di, åtte gål'ga boattet su luså of'tånågå dåi rudåiguim.
Gan'då vulgi dållanågå jå bodi bismå luså jå Gajeti rudåides. ,Gost
don læk fin'nim dåid rudåid?* jæråi bis'må. ,Mon læm o7'Zzum
dåid muttom hærrast, gæså mon gålgåm ræn'gån,* fas'tedi gan'då.
,Diedakgo don dåm, mi hærraid dåt læ?* jæråi fåståin bis'må. ,Im
mon dåm diede,* fastiedi gan'då. ,Dat læ biru, gæså don læk loppe-
dam jiesåd ræn'gån,* celki bis'må. De suor'gåni gandå nuvt såggå,
åtte i son sat"am æm'bu måi'dege dåså fas'tedet. ,Åle bålå!* celki
bis'må; ,gål mon gålgåm du vækketet.* ,Dåt livti hui buorre,*
fas'tedi gan'då. ,Goas don aigok vuollget dokku?* jæråi bis'må. ,Son
boatta mu viez'Zåt dållanågå månnel go mon bæsåm luovos bal'vå-
lusåst,* fasttedi gan'då. ,Aigokgo don orrot mu lut'te, dåssasi go
dunnust lit'to-ai'ge boatta?* jæråi bis'må. ,Aigom gål,* fas'tedi gan'då,
jå son oroi bismå lut'te.

Mic'cåmar-ækkedest doalvoi bis'må dåm gandå gir'kui, bijåi al'tar
siså jå garvuti mæssobif'tåsid båddjeli jå mui'tåli åtte: ,dal boatta
golmå gær'dai du viez'Zåt; muttu ik don gålgå vuol'get, ik dållege jos
vela mu hamestge bodis; dåstgo im mon læk dåt. Ikge gålgå jak'ket,
åtte mon dåt læm; dåstgo mon boadam dei'ké al'targarde siså, val-
dam du gitti jå laidim olgus. Muttu go son boatta hamest, de i son
bæså du luså mu luoddåi båddjel.* JieS vaz3i ruos'så-luoddå gir'-
kolat'te ålå jå gudi gandå gir'kui off'tu, lok'kådi gir'ko-uvsåid gid'då.
I guk'kåge dåstmånnel bodi biru siså dåm sæmma hærra hamest,
mi dålle læi, go gandå ræn'gån orrudi. ,Dal mon læm vuol'gam du
viez'Zåt; boade dal!* celki son. I gan'då jiennådåm måi'dege. ,Ikgo
don diede, åtte dal læ littobæi've munnust?* jæråi biru. Gan'då i
velage fasttedåm måi'dege. De vulgi biru jieS viez'Zåt. Go son bismå
luoddåi duokkai bodi, råwgåi uskus gavvot uvså njæi'gå, nuvt åtte
gir'kost uf'så råppåsi. De månåi biru gei'lnusés dåm have.

Go gås'kå-iddjå Såddåi, de bodi fåståin biru siså bismå hamest jå
dåjåi: ,Dal don oa7zok roak'kå ow'dån boattet; dåstgo dal i Såtån
boade du viez'Zåt.* I gan'då fasttedam velage sannegæsege. Dåmditti
vaz'zeli fåståin altargarde luså; go son bodi bismå luoddåi raddjai,
råwgåi fåståin ruofftot gid'då gir'ko-fæs'kari gavvot jå månåi gei'nusés.

Ided bællai bodi fåståin biru jiesås hamest. Dållanågå go uvså
råvåsti, Cuorvoi åtte: ,dal don fer'tik boattet mu mel'de, båddjel vel
båha dattudge.* I gan'då vela cællkam måi'dege. Biru vazzi rii'skå-
vuodåin bos'sus gir'kolat'te mel'de, jå måsa Coar'vegæSek gus'ke gan'di.
Muttu go son bodi bismå luoddåi duokkai, de råwgåi fåståin ruoff'tot
jå månåi selgulåssi sikke gir'ko jå fæs'karå Cådå, nuvt åtte goabbåsågåk
uvsåk råppåsæiga jå biru gåCCåi gavvot uk'sårappå ålå. De suttåi
biru jå bæl'kegodi åtte: ,oro dal dobbe, go don leddjik nuvt skæl'må,
åtte vissik mu bæt'tet. Giite dal dåm, go must Coarvek æi ollam
nuvt gukkas, åtte leddjim oa7'zot dunnjé guoskåtet. Gål don liv'tik
fer'tim boattet.

Go ided Såddåi, de bodi bis'må, månåi al'targarde siså, valdi gandå
gitti jå lai'di olgus. Muttu i gan'då vel jak'kam, åtte dåt læi bis'må;
dåmditti cåggåi jiesås hui såggå, dåssasi go soai bodigå gar'demå uf'så-
dåkki. ,Måid don dattok dåm owdåst, go don mu gaddjuk bær'gålågå
bal'vålusåst?* jæråi gan'då. ,Im mon datto måi'dege,* fas'tedi bis'må.
,Fuolåkgo dåm, go mon bal'vålåm du balkatæmmen ovtå jåge?* jæråi
gan'då. ,Fuolåm gål,* fas'tedi bis'må. Dåstmånnel bal'våli gan'då
dåm bis'må nuvt guk'kå go bis'må eli, jå bis'må mavsi balka juokke
jåge owdåst.

(Aikio 1890.)

Tale 28 — Rigges Bergremar Jå Dåt Likkulåäs Gan'då

Muttomin jotté spovijæd'djek, gudek spovijeddjé våiku måid; de botté si muttom bai'kai, gost muttom nissun læi manast buoccåmen. Si spovijeddjé: "Jos dåt manna riegad dam diimost, de læ son buok likkotåmus obbå majilmest; muttu jos dåt manna riegåd nubbe dimost gudåd minutåst, dålle læ dåt manna buok likkulåmus majilmest." Bar'ne-manna riegådi dålle, go spovijæd'djek leddjé spovim likkulåmusen. Ovtå jåge dåstmånnel bodi Bergremar dåm bai'kai jå gulåi, åtte dåt manna læ buok likkulåmus obbå majilmest. Dåt månåi sunnjé gadås-vuottån, dåmditti go dåt manna gål'ga læt su likkulåb'bu. Son jurdåsi sor'mit dåm gandå; dåmditti månåi son gandå vanhemi luså jå dattoi dåm gandå biemmokåssån jå loppedi, åtte gan'då gål'ga ar'bit su jammem månnel bæle su dalost. Vanhemåk leddjé hui mielåst biddjåt; dåstgo si doi'vu, åtte gan'då 3åd'da dåggu bof'te likkulåz'Zån.

Bergremar valdi gandå meldes jå bal'késti jaf'fo-millo siså. Gan'då gåccåi mil'lobani gås'kål, nuvt åtte i mikkege våhagen Såd'dåm. Milloi-oai've bodi millo luså jå gawnåi mana milllobænkå ål'de. Son valdi dåm mana jå båjas gesi. Bergremarest leddjé nuvt ollo millok, åtte go vulgi jottet millost mil'lui, de månné Gieså jage, ow'dålgo son joawdåi fåståin dåm vuostås millo raddjai. Cieså jage gæsest bodi son fåståin dåm millo raddjai, mån siså gan'då læi ballkéstuvvum. Bergremar oa330i dåm gullåt, åtte milloi-oai've læi gaw'nåm dåm mana millobænkå ål'lde Gieså jåge dåst ow'dålest. Bergremar ar'vedi, åtte dåt læ sæmma gan'då, måid son læi millo siså bal'keståm. Son ai'go fåståin dåm gandå sor'mit. Dåmditti dåddja Bergremar milloi oai'vai: "Ikgo don bijå dåm gandå mu dallui girje doal'vot?" "Oa2'2o gålle," fasttedi milloi-oai've. De Gali Bergremar girje æmedåssås, mi læi Callujuvvum navt: "Du ised Bergremar cæl'ka dunnjé ænnåg dærv-vuodåid. Go dat gan'då buf'ta dam girje, de gålgåk don god'Cot su hårcåstet dåm murri, mi mu boattemluoddå guoråst læ." Go gir'jé læi garves, de vuolgåti Bergremar gandå dåinå girjin dalluses. Gan'då vulgi girje doal!'vot; de bodi gan'då vuowde siså jå oad'dai. Dåm vuowde siste assé rievvaråk, gudek gaw'né gandå oaddemen, jå girje doalåi giedåstes. Rievvaråk gåi'ku girje råvås jå lokké Gallågå; de arkalmåst'té si gandå båddjeli jå Gallé navt: "Du ised Bergremar rav'vé du, åtte don gålgåk god'Cot mu bænnågå hårcåstet murri, mi mu boattemluoddå guoråst læ. Dat gan'då gållga orrot mu dalost, dåssasi go mon boaJdam; dåstgo dat gan'då gål'ga nai'tålet mu ai'no nieidåin jå ar'bit dalo mu jammemå månnel." De biddjé si girje gid'då jå månné mat'kasæsék.

Go gan'då goc'cai, de månåi son Bergremarå dallui jå åddi æmedi girje. Go æmed læi lokkåm girje, de go0Coi son bænnågå hårcåstuvvut jå valdi gandå dallui. Gan'då jå Bergremarå niei'då lii'kuigå goab'båg guoimeskå. Go Bergremar læ ruof'tot boattemen jå oini bænnåges hæn'gamen muoråst, de jur'deli son: "O hoh! Gål mon oainam dal dåm, gost dust lik'ko læ." Go son bodi muorå luså jå oini, åtte dåt læi su Gap'pis bænå, mi hæn'gai dåm muoråst, de ar'vedi son, åtte gandåst læ dåggar lik'ko, åtte i vækket dåm hæggå ålå gævvåt. Go son bodi dallusis jå oini gandå jå gulåi, åtte su niei'då halidå gandåin nai'tålet, de cæl'ka Bergremar: "Ik don bæså mu nieidåin nai'tålet, ow'dålgo sattak dåid gåsåldågåidi fas'tedet: 'Gi læ rudåst rig'gasåmus? Gi læ jiermest vii'sasåmus? Gost Salomon miek'ke læ?'"

De valdi gan'då skiipå jå vulgi borjåstet dåvas guw'lui. Go son læi borjåstæmen, de gowdidi mærå rad'dijæd'dje Case ålå jå divoi jlesås owdåbællai jå jæråi: "Goså don læk vuol'gam?" "Mon læm vuollgam dåm jærråt: Gi læ rudåst rig!lgasåmus? Gi læ jiermest vii'sasåmus? ja: Gost Salomon miek'ke læ?" fasttedi gan'då. De celki mærå hal'dijæd'dje: "Don gålgåk borjåstet dåvas, dåssaSi go i gos'tege gålgå bieg'gå boattet. Dåst gålgåk don luoi'tådet bon'nai; dåst oa3Zok don buok dåid diettet. Jos don boadedæidénåd diedak mui'tålet munnjé, movt mon gålgåm aw'dogåssån Såd'dåt, de im mon aigo dåkkåt dunnjé måi'dege båhaid." Gan'då vulgi åin borjåstet jå borjåsti, dåssasi go son bodi muttom sul'lui, gost gonågås læi. Dåst månåi son gad'dai jå månåi gonågås-gar'demi. Gonågås jæråi: "Goså don læk vuollgam?" Gan'då: "Mon vul'gim jærråt dåm: Gi læ rudåst rig!lgasåmus? Gi læ jiermest vii'sasåmus? ja: Gost Salomon miek'ke læ?" Gonågås: "Don gålgåk borjåstet åin dåvas båha vuoinå gar'demå raddjai; dobbe oaZZok don dåm gullåt. Go don vuolgak ruoff'tot dobbe, de buvte mu nieidåguovtoge dobbe; gål mon mavsam dunnjé balka dåm owdåst."

Gan'då lonoti ålcés æra skiipå jå borjåsti nubbe gonågåså hammåni. Gan'då månåi gad'dai jå månåi gonågåså gar'demi. De jærra gonågås: "Goså don vullgik?" Gan'då muit'tåli buok su mokkes. Gonågås goGCoi su åin dåvas borjåstet jå goCCoi, åtte gan'då gål'ga dobbe jærråt: "Gost læk mu lap'pum lanne-gollletoaw'dågåk? Gål mon mavsam dunnjé balka dåm owdåst." Gan'då lonoti skiipås jå vulgi borjåstet. Son borjåsti, dåssasi go i gos'tege boattam bieg!gå. De månåi son glaså siså jå goCCoi jiesås bon'nai luoi'tet. Gan'då lui'tujuvvui bon'nai jå bodi båha vuoinå gar'demi. Båha vuoi'nå læi dåid gonågåså nieidåguovto biddjåm nubbe giewkanbii'gan jå nubbe fåståin glassåmuorrån. De jæråi gonågåså niei'då: "Goså don vullgik?" Gan'då mui'tåli buok as85es. De celki gonågås-niei'då: "Go båha vuoi'nå boatta, de god!'da son du." Gan'då fas'tedi: "I must læk hætte; mon aigom Giekkadet oammån duokkai. Don gålgåk jæråtet visut buok as3id."

Gan'då Ciekkadi oammån duokkai. De bodi båha vuoi'nå giewkåni, dåddja: "Gost boatta kristålås haddjå?" Giewkånbii'ga fas'tedi: "On'ne girdi stuorrå goas'tkem dam viste båddjel, jå sust læi ollmu giettå gåzzåst; vis!'så dåt læi kristålås ollmu giettå." De jærra gonågås-niei'då: "Jos våsalås mu luså boatta, de movt mon gålgåm giew'rån såd'dåt?" Båha vuoi'nå: "Kammarest læ uskeb skappe sis'te famo-jukkåmus-boattålåk. Go don dåst jugeståk, de Såddåk don giew'rån." Gonågås-niei'då: "Movt mu oab'ba gålgå3i fåståin olmusen Såd'dåt?" Båha vuoi'nå: "Kammarest bossub skappe sis!te læk Gacce-boattålåk. Go don læikok dåid guvse siså jå dis'kålåk 3 gærde glaså njæi'gå, de Såd'da du oab'ba olmusen." Gonågåsniei'då: "Gi læ rudåst rig!gasåmus?" Båha vuoi'nå: "Bergremar læ rudåst rig'gasåmus." Gonågåsniei'då: "Gi læ jiermest vii'sasåmus?" Båha vuoi'nå: "Bergremar læ jiermest viilsasåmus." Gonågåsniei'då: "Gost Salomon miek!'ke læ?" Båha vuoi'nå: "Salomon miek'ke læ kammarest mu borde ållde." Gonågåsniei'då: "Movt gålgåsi mærå halldijæd'dje aw'dogåssån Såd'dåt?" "Son såd'da aw'dogåssån dåm lakkai, jos son bæså3i Bergremarå vårå jukkåt," fasttedi båha vuoi'nå. Gonågåsniei'då: "Goså læ lap'pum min siidå-guoilme-gonågåsåst lånne-gollletoaw'dågåk?" Båha vuoi'nå: "Lånne-guoråst læ stuorrå gæd'ge; dåm vuol'de læ dåk Coaw'dågåk." Gonågåsniei'då: "Movt dåt gonågås gålgåsi 0a7'Zot buttes Gase?" Båha vuoi'nå: "Sæinest hæn'ga of'tå soab'be. Jos son bæsåsi dåinå sobbin Cug'git dåm gædge vuollai, de gollgågoada3i dåst olgus buttes Gacce." Gonågåsniei'då: "Gost du hæg!'gå læ?" Båha vuoi'nå: "Olgubæl'de gar'demå læ stuorrå muorrå; dam sis'te læ vuonces, jå dåm vuon!'ca sis'te læ månne, jå dåm måne sis'te læ mu hæg!'gå."

Gan'då gulai buok dåm. Båha vuoi'nå vulgi åin mat'kases. De månåi gan'då kammari jå råvåi dåm bos8ub skappe, valdi Cacceboattålid, læikoi guvse siså jå dis'kåli golmå gærde glaså njæi'gå. De $åddåi dåtge olmusen. Gan'då oini Salomon miekke båha vuoinå borde ål'de jå aigoi val'det dåm; muttu dåt læi nuvt lossåd, åtte gan'då i væddjam obbå likkåståt'tetge. Gan'då råvåi uskeb skappe, jugåi famo-jukkåmus-boattålå, valdi gid'då Salomon miek'kai, muttu illa veji likkåståt'tet. Son jugåi nubbe boattålå famo-jukkåmus3å jå dop'pi dåm miekkai gid'då, jå dåt læi nuvt gæppås dego dollge. Son månåi olgus jå Cuolåsti Salomon mikkin dåm muorå; muttu muorrå i månnåm rås'ta. Gan'då månåi siså jå jugesti famo-jukkåmusåst. De månåi fåståin olgus jå Cuolåsti muorå råst'ta; de gir'deli vuonces olgus; muttu gan'då Cuolåsti vuon'ca guow'dåt, jå månne gåCCåi ænnåmi. Gan'då cåski måne cuowkdås, jå båha vuoi'nå viegåi ruof'tot; måsa joaw'da gandå luså, ow'dålgo gan'då Cås'ka måne cuowkås. Båha vuoi'nå jami dåså.

De månåi gan'då siså, valdi famo-jukkåmus-boattålid jå Salomon miekke jå dåm soabbe, mi sæinest hæn'gai. De ar'vedi gan'då, åtte jos son biddja nieidåguof'ta glaså siså, de æi Såtån gæse båjas; muttu jos son månna ow'dål glassålitte siså, de æi Såtån viså dam guoffta båjas gæsset. Dåmditti månåi son jieS glaså siså jå valdi nubbe nieidå glaså siså jå Sluwgesti badde; de gessé sun'nu båjas. Gan'då luiti dåm nieidå skii!pi jå månåi nubbe nieidå viez'Zåt. Go dåt nub'be bodi glaså siså, de Sluwgesti oppet badde, jå si gessé sun'nu båjas. Go gan'då bodi skii!pi, de borjåsti son dåm gonågåså hammåni jå månåi gad'dai. De jæråi gonågås: "Lækgo don gullåm dåm, gost læ mu lån'ne lap'pum Coaw'dågåk?" "Lan'ne-guorast læ offtå stuorrå gæd'ge; dåm vuol'de læ dåk Coaw'dågåk," fasttedi gan'då. De got0Coi gonågås soaldatides dåm gædge erit fieråtet; muttu æi si någådåm obbå likkåståt'tetge. De celki gan'då: "Vuor'delekkét vuost oanekåssi, dåssaSi go mon ælåsåm skiipåståm; de aigom mongis gædCålet fieråtet, jos mon någådåm." Gan'då månåi skii'pi jå jugåi famo-jukkåmus3å jå bodi gad'dai. De gæt!Cåli son gædge erit fierrålåt'tet; muttu gæd'ge duS3e soaigeti. Gan'då jugesti fåståin famo-jukkåmusåst; de rippåsti gan'då dåm gædge erit; dåt gæd'ge råwgåi dego bal'lo, jå dåk Coaw'dågåk gaw'nujeddjé dåm gædge vuol!de. De jæråi gan'då: "Halidåkgo don 0a2'Zot buttes Case?" "Halidåm gål," fasttedi gonågås. De viezZåi gan'då dåm soabbe, mi hæn'gai båha vuoinå kammar-sæinest. Son Cug'gi golmå gær'dai dåm gædge såddjai; de gol!gågodi dåst buttes Cacce. Gan'då 0a330i guof'te skii'pålaståid golle.

De borjåsti gan'då nubbe sul'lui, gost nub'be gonågås læi. Dåst månné si gad'dai, sikke gan'då jå gonågåså nieidåguovtos. Dåm gonågåsåst 0a270i gan'då guof'te skii'pålastå golle. Dåst vulgi åin gan'då borjåstet, jå go son læi borjåstæmen, de gowdidi mærå hal'dijæd'dje Case ålå jå jæråi: "Lækgo don gullåm dåm, åtte movt mon gålgåm aw'dogåssån Såd'dåt?" Gan'då fasttedi: "Dåm lakkai don gålgåk aw'dogåssån Såd'dåt, jos don oaZzok Bergremar våråid jukkåt." "Månå rafai! Im mon aigo dåkkåt dunnjé måi'dege båhaid," dåjåi mærå halldijæd'dje. De borjåsti gan'då hammåni jå månåi gad'dai. Gan'då månåi Bergremar gar'demi. De jærra Bergremar: "Jogo don læk boattam dåm diettet, gi rudåst læ rig'gasåmus?" "Bergremar læ rudåst rig'gasåmus." Bergremar: "Gi læ jiermest vii'sasåmus?" Gan'då: "Bergremar læ jiermest vii'sasåmus." Bergremar: "Gost Salomon miek'ke læ?" Gan'då: "Salomon miek'ke læi båha vuoinå borde ål'de, muttu dal læ mu skiipåst." Bergremar: "Måk dust læ dåi skiipåi sis'te?" Gan'då: "Gol'le læ buok skiipåi dievvå." Bergremar: "Gost don golle fin'nijik?" Gan'då: "Gål gol'le læ fin'nimest dåså, gæst buorre læ jier'me."

Go Bergremar dåm gulåi, de osti son ålcés skiipåid; dåstgo son didi, åtte sust læ buorre jier'me. Bergremar vulgi borjåstet. Son borjåsti, dåssasi go mærå hal'dijæd'dje gowdidi Case ålå jå divoi jiesås owdåbællai jå jæråi: "Mi don læk ållmaid?" "Mon læm Bergremar." Go mærå hal'dijæd!'dje 0a230i gullåt, åtte dåt læi Bergremar, de valdi gid'då jå vuojoti buok skiipåid bon'nai jå gåikudi jamås.

Gan'då nai'tåli Bergremarå nieidåinjå ar'bi su dalojå buok om'mudågåid.

(Aikio 1891.)


Tale 32 — Movt Hæw'ne Læ Gaddjum Ol'mu Hæggå

Muttom olmus læi muttomén of'tu mæccest vaz'zemen; de ai!cé Gudek su jå vullgé su månnai. Dåt olmus-rieppo viegåi battårussi muttom dieva båddjel jå oini, åtte railge månåi ænnåm siså. Dåt ålmai Canåi dåm raige siså. Hæwlne månåi raige ow'di jå goddeli fierme nuvt vii'daset go railge læi. Go hæwl'ne læi gær'gåm fierme goddemest jå læi månnåm erit, de joawdåi Cudde dåm raige raddjai jå oini hæwne fierme; de månåi åin mæd'del su skipparides luså. hæwne gålgå god'det; dåstgo dåt læ ollmu hæggå gaddjum.

(Aikio 1893.)


Tale 33 — Don Dol'wuk Mu Jif'te Olgus, Jå Mon Doalvom Du On'ne

Muttom ålmai asåi muttom gæi'noguoråst, mån melde lavijeddjé jottet hui ollo matkalåzZzåk. Son doalåi dåidi buok, måid si darbåseddjé, jå fin'ni ålcés ollo sikke rudåid jå stuorrå om'mudågå jå eli riggesen obbå su ællemaiges. Sust læi ak'ka jå of'tå bar'ne, gæn son vuolgåti juo mannan ållå skuw'li; dåstgo gan'då gålgåi su aGdes datto mel'de Såd'dåt ållå hærran. Gan'då læi hui oappålås jå åni algost huolå dåså åtte oap'påt jå ow'dani hui burist. Go soames jågek leddjé gollåm, de riemåi gån'då jukkåt ige Såtån ånnam avverå su oap'påméstes; dåmditti vuolgåtuvvui gan'då ruof'tot oap'påm gåskåst. Go gan'då bodi ruofftot, de jukkågodi son åin båhabut jå Cok'kai jugålmest gæs3os ijåid. Algost jugåi gan'då åive hærraiguim jå aigoi ællet hær'ran; dåstgo son dåjåi daw'ja: "Gål mu aCCest sikke ruttå jå om'mudåk cæw'za." Muttu go son i 03'Zum ånnui nuvt ænnåg go son dattoi rudåid, de jukkågodi son juokkehåzZåin, gutte læi vii'nejuk'ke.

Muttom aige gæsest buoccågodi su a&'æe jammem-dawdå jå goGtoi barnes lusås; gan'då månåi dåm lånnji, gost su aC'&e læi buoccåmen, jå Cokkani su sængå gurri. De dåddja su a&'&e: "Dal mon jamam, jå du hal'dui bacca dat dallo, måid don får'gå dus'Sådåk, nuvt åtte får'gå boatta oddå dalo-ised du såddjai, nuvt åtte go offtå dåihe guoftte jåge læk vassam, de don læk Såd'dåm dåm mud'dui, åtte i of'tåge du valde vis'susis; muttu juokkehås hoilgad du olgus, jå dålle læ buoremus månnåt mæc'ceballga mel'de dåm boares vii'nevuos'såmvissui, gost don oainak badde hæn'gamen, måinå don gålgåk jieSåd hårcåstet." Gan'då månåi moarest olgus. Bal'vålæd'djek halideddjé diettet, måid son gulåi aGGestes; dåstgo si ar'vededdjé, åtte son rav'vi måi!dege sunnjé; dåmditti jerré si: "No, måid aCad duinå dal halåi?" "Gål dåt åddi dåggar viises ravvågid, måid i bænåge viså gullåt," fasttedi gan'då.

I guk'kage dåstmånnel de jami dalo-ised, jå gan'då Såddåi iseden, gutte jukkågodi åin båhabut. Go su æn'ne dåm oini, åtte gan'då i satte stan'dit dallodoallåmå, de vuwdi son dalos jå månåi erit. Go jåkke læi vassam, de læi gan'då juo Gap'pis gæfe, nuvt åtte i sust læm æm'bu, måid borråt ige ånnet.

Muttom ækked algi dåt oddå ised doallåt illoguos'semallasid su gussidesguim; si jukké viine jå leddjé ilost. Gan'då bodi siså jå anoi ovtå vii'necærke. Ised valdi su nis'kai gid'då su bif'tåsi jå lai'di su olgus ige åd'dam sunnje måi'dege. Gan'då Såddåi dal olgus. Gan'då viggåi siså soames vis'tai, muttu i of'tåge luoi'tam su siså. De jurdåsisgodi gan'då jieSås hårcåstet, nuvtgo su aC&e læi sunnjé rav'vim. Gan'då vulgi dål mæctcai jå bodi dåm vieso luså jå månåi siså. Gan'då buol'lati Cuowgå jå imåstålåi, go son oini bad'degæse hæn'gamen. Gan'då goarnoi båjas jå Cånåi bad'degæse Cæppates birrå, bal'kesti Guowgaå, luiti jiesås hæn'gat. Bad'de bæsåi, jå gan'då gåGCåi lat'te ålå gålmås. Gan'då ælaski fåståin jå algi guolbe rappot jå gulåi giedåin, åtte sæk!'kå læi su baldåst. Gan'då buolllati Cuowgå jå oini, åtte rudåk leddjé dåm sækkå dievvå. Gan'då valdi lawkås jå dewdi dåm rudåiguim.

Idedest arråd månåi gan'då gar"dem luså jå skoalkoti uvså, jå ised luiti su siså. Gan'då CuoZZoi uvså guoråst jå doargesti; dåstgo son læi suor'gånåm. Ised doaivoi, åtte gan'då læi goallomen. Dåmditti goCoi son åd'det gan'di ovtå vii'ne-cærke. "Gii'tus ænnåg god&'Comest! im mon aigo goas'sege Såt jukkåt; muttu mon læm boattam dei'ké jærråt, ikgo don vuowde munnjé fåståin dam dalo," dåddja gan'då. Ised jå guossek boagosteddjé gandå; dåstgo si gad'dé, åtte gandåst æi læk rudåk. Guossek gif'tåleddjé sun'nu hui såggå gawpe dåkkåt, jå ised viimåg fas'tedi: "Gål mon vuowda3im dam dalo gowtulås håd'dai, jos livti oastte." "Cælke munnjé dåm, åtte ollogo don rawkåk obbå dam dalost; mon aigom dål'lan maf!set," jæråi gan'då. "Jos don mavsak 20000, de mon vuowdam dam dalo," fasttedi dalo-ised. "Qastam gål, jos don Galak duodå3tusgirje vela dåm ålå," dåddja gan'då. Bil'kedemin god'cu guossek, åtte buoremus Gal'le sin gåskåst gål'ga Gallet gaw'pegirje. Go girfje læi gær'gåm, de rajåi gan'då girje lum'måsés, råvåi lawkå jå logåi silbårudåid bæwde ålå. Go ised oini, åtte dallo læ juo månnåm jå son i oz'3um obbå bællehåddege, de GCur'vi son moarest: "I dåt læm ærago læi'kågaw'pe!" "Måid vækket dal æm'bu, go gaw'pe læ Sit'tum jå gaw'peduodåstus mu lummåst?" dåddja gan'då. Ised fer'ti rudåid valdet jå gan'då iseda niskai jå dåddja: "Jiffté dol'vuk don mu olgus; muttu on'ne doalvom mon du," jå gan'då eli likkulåz'Zån obbå su ællemaiges dåstmånnel.

(Aikio 1893.)


Tale 30 — Guofite Vielljäs Vuol'gev AGGeskå Dalost Erit

Muttom ålmast leddjé gollmå barne; boarrasumus læi 3iegå-lundug jå læi vaitås juokke dafost; muttu nuoråbuk læiga gælbotæmek. Muttomen valdinå suoi aGGeskå færråm-af'So jå Cuolåinå dåst awfjo ere. AGGe fuomma3i dåm jå cammi sun'nu; de suttåinå suoi, vulginå ere. Go suoi læiga månnåmen, de lappetæiga suoi bal'ga jå æva Såt diettam, goså gålgåinå månnåt. De suoi oroinå ijå muttom vuowdest. Nubbe bæive vulginå suoi varrai goar'not. Go suoi bodinå ålas, de oai'néb gawpug. Suoi njiejåinå vuolas jå manåinå gawpug siså; dåst oroinå suoi jå Såddåinå studæn'tån. Boarrasub oappåi fælskeren (doafftaren); nuoråb oappåi skad'dåren (bivtåsgoar'ron). Go skåd'dår læi juo guk'kå skad'dåren, de vulgi son vuow'det dåid bif'tåsides.

De boatta muttom boares galles su owdåld jå anoi sust bifftås jå vaidi, åtte son i væje bår'gåt; dåstgo son i læk dærvåsge. Go son åin læi hallåmen, de cuilgi skad'dår: "Gæ, do boatta fælsker! Dattokgo daigåsid?" "De måi dattusim, mutt måid dågåm, go æi læk rudåk," fastedi dåt ad'dja. De jærråli fælsker: "Gi don læk?" "Mon læm muttom likkotæmme; must leddjé gollmå barne; boarrasumus læ jammanm, jå guovtes læva mæc'cai lappum," mui'tåli son. "Måk leddjé sun'nu nåmåk?" jæråinå suoi. "Dåk læiga Uwl'la jå Poalå." "Vuoi Matti, mu aGCaSam!" Gur'vinå suoi. Vuorås gåCCåi ænnåmi suor'gånemin, jå son oroi sun'nu lut, nu guk'kå go son eli.

Barneguovtes nailtålæiga. Boarrasub nai'tåli ållå sogåin, jå su æmed læi goarråd; dåmditti i son dåm vuok'kam, åtte son gålgåi divsudet su vuoppås. Dåmditti fer'ti fælsker sad'dit su aGdes skad'dår luså. Skad'dårest læi skoal'på-ollmu niei'då gallgon. Son valdi su jå bijåi us'ketikki jå sierrå garest boråtålåi. Go son buoc'cai jammemdawdå jå læi juo aibås hæddjo, de goCCoi son barnesguof'ta lusås. Go suoi bodinå su luså, de dåddja vuorås fælskeri: "Go don gul'dålik du æmedåd jå hillguk mu, de don gålgåk jie8åd boalgåtet jå Såd'dåt hilgotussån," jå dåstmånnel dåddja son skad'dåri: "Go don leddjik mu vuos'ta nu buorre, åtte ik cuw'zam goas'segen muinå (mu ala), de gålgåk don oa2'zot loawdes manaid."

Go sun'nu aCe læi jammam, de månåi fælsker muttom buw'di jå fil'li rudåid, jå fælsker rangastuvvui jå Såddåi hilgotussån obbå ællem-aiges. Muttu skad'dår eli likkulåz'Zån jå manaides gædllæost obbå ællem-aiges.

(Aikio 1893.)


Tale 31 — Dåt Laikes Jå Nuoskes Nieidå

Dåm aige go bakkenåk leddjé same-ænnåmést, de lavijeddjé ånaråzZåk doallvot jaw'resulluidi sin vanhemidesek, go dåk Såddé nu boarrasåk, åtte æi Såt væddjam bår'gåt. De læi muttomen of'tå boares gallgo, gæst læi niei'då sikke lai'ke jå båha; son i bår'gåm dalost måi'dege. Go æn'ne dåjåi sunnjé: "Vuoi, vuoi don lai'ke! ja moge aiguSåk don dalo doallåt?" de fas'tedi åin niei'då: "Mutt læk don båha; de burist væjak don mu huonotet."

Go su æn'ne Såddåi nu boares, åtte i Såt væddjam bår'gåt æra go goade åni Cor'gå, de dåjåi æn'ne muttomin suinå åtte: "dainå lagin duinå æra mudoi go sul'lui doal'vot." Go æn'ne oa330i dåm diettet, de dåjåi åtte: "nieildåsåm, ikgo don diede dåm, åtte måid awkid mon igo dåst læk stuorrå aw'ke?" dåjåi æn'ne. "Go don læk nu båha, åtte ale mattak soailmåt nuos'ken jå vuorjåk mu dåinå, de mon fer'tim doal'vot du sul'lui," dåjåi niei'då. "Jies diedak, dolvusåk jo gis, de gålgåk don oai'net must suormåid luni sist, go dåk lunid doppijek," dåjåi æn'ne. "Dat i læk duottå," fas'tedi niei'då, jå de vulgi sullui doal'vot. Go soai bodigå sul'lui, de luiti son su ænnes gad'dai jå sukkåli ruof'tot. De Guorvoi su æn'ne åtte: "gål don gålgåk oai'net får'gå, åtte im Såt mon læk du dalo Cor'gemen, jå månål dær'vån!"

Go soames bæivek leddjé vassam, jå luonek leddjé goattai dievvåm, de oini dåt niei'då suormåid ittålæmen Gådå luni. De mui'tai dåm åtte måid su æn'ne læi dåddjåm; mutt i son dåst huollåm måi'dege. Son algi jieS goades raddjåt; muttu gås'kån raddjåm son jo hillgadi ere.

Moadde bæive gæsest Såd'dé fåst luonek goattai, jå oini fåst suormåid ittålæmen luni sist. "Amå mon dal læm boas'tot bår'gåm," jurdåsi niei'då; "dåstgo im mon dow'dåm dåm awke, måid son dågåi munnjé; dåstgo dåt læmås stuorrå aw'ke, go æn'nam doalåi Cådåg Cor'gå. Velgo son læ hæggåst, vuolgam mon gæt'Gåt," jå de sukkåli son dam sul'lui, goså ænnes læi dol'vum. Son bodi sullui jå oini ænnes vællamen roggest, mi læi bes'sijuvvum, jå boares gallgorieppo nelgidesguim suormåides gas'kam. "Mon vullgim du vieZ'Zåt," dåjåi niei'då. "Vuoi nieidåsåm," dåjåi dat boares gal'go; "go mon im læk dok'kim månenge, de dal gål im væje Såt bår'gåt; dåstgo mon læm jo Gådå nellgum. Go jo offti dol'vuk mu dei'ké, de dal Såt im vuolge mon du meld." De fer'ti son fåst offtu goattai vuollget ige bæssåm rafai, ow'dålgo goades Cor'gå ånnegodi.

(Aikio 1888.)


Tale 34 — Sun'de, Dalobuoi'ge Jä Gonågås Siei'vå Ålmajen

Muttom sun'de læi hir'måd Cæwllai jå vækkåvaldalås. Sust læi of'tå boares dam'ma. Son fuommaii, åtte muttom dalobuoigest læ of'tå nuorrå or'ri (råk'ke hævo3). Sun'de månåi dåm dalobuoige luså of'tånågå dammaines jå dattoi dåm orri lonotet. Dalobuoi'ge i aigo dåm lonotet; muttu sun'de nag'gi såggå su lonotet. Sun'de suttåi såggå jå aiti såggå su hir'måd los'sis væroin, jå månemus'ta loppedi værost luoi'tet, jos son oa30 dåinå dammain sust orri lonotet. De lonoti dåt dalobuoi'ge su orris jå oa30i 20 rik'sé båjalassån. Muttu dåt dam'ma læi nu boares: i dåinå olmus bårgå måi'dege.

Dåm sæmma gæse bodi gonågås dåm dalobuoige dallui jå jæråi iddjåsåje. Dalobuoi'ge loppedi sunnjé iddjåsåje ige diettam, åtte dåt læi gonågås; dåstgo son læi garvudam davalåzzåt; dåm gål dowdåi, åtte i dåt gål gæfe læk. De jærra gonågås: "Igo dust læk of'tåge hævos vuow'det?" "Livöi must gål offtå boares dam'ma-dappe; muttu i dåt læk dåm vær'tå åtte guoddet dåm vuow'det," fas'tedi dalobuoi'ge. "Månne i?" jæråi gonågås. "Dåt læ juo nu boares, åtte i dåinå bårgå olmu3 i måi'dege; dåstgo min sun'de riv'vimin must dåinå nuorrå orri," fas'tedi dalobuoi'ge. "Na; vullgu moai du damma gæt'Gåt," dåddja gonågås. "Åle, buorre olmus, i dåt læk dam vær'tå; muttu o3'Zu moai gal ællet gættåmen," fas'tedi dalobuoi'ge, jå de månåigå soai stallji.

Go gonågås oini damma, de jæråi son: "Ollogo don og'Zuk båjalås dåm orriståd?" "Gål mon o3'Zum nu uccan, åtte i dåt båjalås læk i mikkege dåm ef'tui, måid mu or'ri mavsi, dåinågo mon im oz'Zum æm'bu go 20 rik'sé," fas'tedi dalobuoi'ge. "Ollogo don dattok dåm dammast?" jæråi gonågås. "Gål dåm dammast i guoddet hådde raw'kåt." "Mon åddam 200 rik'sé," dåddja gonågås. "JieS diedak," dåddja dalobuoi'ge, "jos don gaddak læt dåm værtå." De mavsi gonågås dåm jå hasti vuollget sun'de luså, våi son bæssa lonotet dåinå dammain dåm orri sun'dest. De dåddja dåt dalobuoi'ge: "Åle, buorre olmus! i min sun'de læk dåm vær'dasås, åtte dåm luså darbås offtåge månnåt; dåstgo dåt læ nu Cæwllai, åtte æi dåm luså gålles bæså sagåidi." "Moai gallgé vuollget; dåstgo mon læm æraiguimge bir'gim jå gaddam vel sun'dinge bir'git," fas'tedi gonågås, jå sarnoti, gid'då dåssasi go viimåg dalobuoi'ge loppedi su meld vuol'get. "Æigo dust læk oamme bar'gu-jor'rek?" "Læ gål must guovtek, jå mon åddam dunnjé buoreb jor'rid," dåddja dalobuoi'ge, jå gonågås valdi boarrasåb jor'rid.

De vulgigå soai vuoddjet jå månåigå gestgiivari. Gonågås gudi dåså dammas jå valdi gestgiivarest satto sun'de raddjai. Go si botté sun'de gar'dem olgubællai, de dåddja gonågås su sattovuod'djases jå dalobuoi'gai: "Orlo dast dåm boddå go mon ælam sun'de sagåin!" jå månåi siså. Gonågås skoal'kåli sale uvså. "Gi dåt læ?" Cur'vi sun'de. "Mon læm muttom jot'te," fas'tedi gonågås. "Måid don dattok?" jæråi sun'de. "Mon aigusim duinå hallåt," fas'tedi gonågås. "No, boade dål siså!" dåjåi sun'de. "Buorre bæi've," dåjåi son. "Immel adde," fas'tedi sun'de, jå de jærråli: "Mi læ dust hallåmussån?" "Mon læm vuol'gam dust jærråt, ikgo don vuowde munnjé dåm orri, mi dust læ," dåjåi gonågås. "Vuoi hæppån, vai don boadak mu luså heppus oas'tet; dåstgo mon aigom ænnåmhærra luså vuollget gun'nepassåid viez'Zåt. Månå dålan olgus!" dåddja sun'de. "I læk vel hoap'po," fas'tedi gonågås. "Aigokgo don vuos'tai njalme ånnet? Ikgo don gadde, åtte mon læm ow'dålge oai'nam dåggar go donge?" jæråi sun'de. "Gål dåt mat'ta vejulås; muttu åle læge nu goar'gåd; dåstgo gål mon læm bir'gim vel ålebuiguimge go duina," fas'tedi gonågås.

Sun'de njui'ki båjas jå gonågås niek'kai dop'pi gid'då jå vulgi olgus doallvot. "Læge nu buorre, åtte orost oanekåssi," dåjåi gonågås, jå råvåsti su olgoldås bif'tåses jå jorgeti gonågåså vuos'tai. Go sun'de oini, åtte dåt læi gonågås, de suor'gåni nu Såggå, åtte ænnåmi gåCCåi. De jæråi gonågås: "Ikgo don luoikå munnjé dåm orri, mi dust læ; dåstgo mon aigom miedostet ovtå nai'tålæd'dje parå it'ten gir'kui?" "Don oaZZok val'det sikke orri jå dåm oddå vownå luoikåsen," fas'tedi sun'de. De viekkåli gonågås olgus jå dåddja sat'tulåz'Zi: "Don oaZZok månnåt; dåstgo mon læm fin'nim ålcém æra satto," jå mavsi sat'tubalka jå månåi fåst siså.

Gonågås jæråi: "QazZomgo mon dast girje Gallet ænnåmhær'rai?" "OaZZok gål," fas'tedi sun'de. Gonågås Gali, åtte ænnåmhær'ra gål'ga sun'dest virge ere valldet, jå mui'tåli buok, måid sun'de læi dåkkåm vuostai. Go son læi gærgåm CGallemest, de månåi son rengå luså, jå ren'gå åddi sunnjé dåm orri jå dåid oddå jor'rid, måid son læi oas'tam ænnåmhær'ra luså vuoddjem ditt. Dåm boddå go dåt dalobuoi'ge gæsasti dåm orri, de jæråi gonågås sun'dest: "Ikgo don boade it'ten dåm nuorrå naitosparå gunnéjåt'tet?" "Im mon åstå," fas'tedi sun'de. "Go don ik åstå, de gålgåk it'ten boattet mu sagåidi gir'koluokka ålå månna gås'kåbæive; muttu ik gålgå æm'bu hallåt go buore bæive raw'kåt, jå buok, måid mon jæråm dust, de gålgåk don oanekåZ7åt fas'tedet." Jå sun'de loppedi dåm dåkkåt, jå gonågås goCCoi, åtte sun'de gål'ga boattet su dammain, mi læ gestgiivar lut'te, jå de njui'ki gonågås jor'ri siså. De hirmåstuvåi dåt dalobuoi'ge jå dåddja: "Hei, hei! gål don læk æm'bu go davalås ålmai, go deddé gål'gik min sun'dest dam varsa fin'nit." Gonågås i dåddjam ærago dåm: "Dåt båi læ imåS, jos mon im gålgå fin'nit ollmuin, måid mon dattom."

Nubbe bæive vulgi dåm dalobuoige bar'ne nai'tålet, jå gonågås vulgi dåinå parrågoddin gir'kui vuoddjet jå vuji gid'då gir'ko trappå gurri, jå dåt parrågod'de Guoz'Zeli jå månåi gir'kui. Gonågås basi olgus heppus luoi'tet jå doalvoi gir'ko duokkai. Go son læi gær'gåm, de månåi songe gir'kui. Go pap'på gær'gågodi, de månåi fåst gonågås olgus, gæsasti heppuå jå divoi trap'pi, nu åtte dåt parrågod'de Cokkani jor'ri siså.

Go gonågås vulgi ruoff'tot vuoddjet, de bodi sun'de owdåld gir'koluokka åld dåinå dammain, måid gonågås læi oas'tam. "Buorre bæi've," celki sun'de. "Immel ådde," fas'tedi gonågås. "Na, aigokgo don gunnéjåt'tet on'ne dåm oddå parrågodde?" jæråi gonågås. "Aigom," fas'tedi sun'de. "Ikgo dålle ådde dam parrågodai dam orri of'tån dåinå jor'riguim?" jæråi gonågås. "Åddam gål," fas'tedi sun'de. "Dal don læk garves vuol'get."

Go hæjåk leddjé nokkåm, de vulgi gonågås åin mat'kases ige vel cæl'kam dåm, åtte son læi gonågås. Ålmai basi imåstållåt. Sun'de bodi gænnåm-hærra luså jå åddi dåm girje, måid gonågås læi Gallam. Go ænnåmhær'ra logåi dåm girje, de bijåi sun'de virgestes ere, jå dåstmånnel oa3'Zoi dåt dalobuoi'ge diettet, åtte dåt læmas gonågås. Dåmditti dåjåi son: "Gål mon dåm juo oi'nim, åtte læi æm'bu go davalås ålmai."

(Aikio 1895.)

Source Colophon

Source: J. Qvigstad, Lappiske eventyr og sagn, Vol. I (Oslo: H. Aschehoug & Co., 1927). Public domain. North Sami text as printed in the 1927 edition. Tales 9, 27, 28, 30, 31, 32, 33, and 34 source text extracted from the archive.org djvu OCR (lappiskeeventyro01qvig_djvu.txt); 1927 orthography preserved.

🌲