Foreign Tales and Traditions/Volume 1/Legends of Rubezahl/The Treasure-Seeker

by Henrik Steffens

For other English-language translations of this work, see Mährchen und Sagen aus dem Riesengebirge: 6.

No. IV. THE TREASURE-SEEKER.

At Warmbrun^[1] there lived a sober and industrious tradesman, who occupied a lonely house. His appearance bespoke great poverty; it was seldom that he entered into conversation with any person; and report alleged, that he occupied himself in chemical researches, with the hope of discovering the golden essence, and suddenly amassing great treasures. He would often wander forth alone into the wild district behind the Kynast,^[2] where he would bury himself for hours together in the dark woods, and only return to his hut in the twilight. To one person only had he intrusted the secret of that spell which attracted him so frequently to this wild region,—he had told him in an hour of confidence, how his heart was stirred within him while wandering in its lonely ravines, and how there lay concealed for him in its dark rocks the long-worshipped mystery of his life, and treasures inexhaustible.

One day as he took his way in a more melancholy mood than usual up the mountain, he perceived, while wandering under the dark fir-boughs, a clear light shining at a distance, and on approaching it, discovered an iron gate which seemed to defend the entrance to a lighted-up cavern full of open chests containing untold treasures of gold and silver and jewels, which all seemed to smile upon the dazzled beholder. As he stood gazing on the red gold, a gigantic figure suddenly appeared at his side, who addressed him in these words: “All those treasures are yours,—only mark well the place; when you return hither three days hence, yonder gate shall be standing open.” The forest had an opening at this spot which allowed a clear prospect into the valley beneath; towards the left of the Kynast, the steeple of Hermsdorf was just seen rising above an intervening eminence; above the Kynast rose the steeple of Warmbrun, and Hirschberg lay in the back-ground of the scene. The gigantic figure pointed out the bearings of the spires and the principal objects in the landscape: “Fix the picture well im your mind,” said he; “when you shall have returned three days hence, and recognised this spot by all those marks, then will you perceive the cavern lighted up as it now is, and the gate standing open; enter and your happiness is secured.” The astonished and enraptured chemist endeavoured by every means in his power to fix the locality of the wondrous spot; he went away,—returned again,—hesitated,—renewed his observations, and at last satisfied himself that he could not fail to recognise the identical spot from which he had beheld the riches of the cavern. “There is a piece of money for you,” said the mysterious figure, “that you may not persuade yourself that you have seen all this in a dream.” He gave him a gold coin inscribed with strange characters, and then vanished from the chemist’s sight. When the poor man looked around him, the cavern also had disappeared, and he would have believed all that had passed to have been but an illusion had not the piece of gold which he still held in his hand satisfied him of its reality.

Thoughtfully he went home, carefully observing every step of the path by which he returned, and marking the neighbouring trees. On the third day he hastened with impatience up the mountain,—he found the trees which he had marked,—he recognised the foot-path,—he beheld the dark rocks at a distance,—and now he tried to place himself on the appointed spot by observing the bearings of the distant objects. The steeple of Hermsdorf already appeared on the left of the Kynast, but he looked in vain for the steeple of Warmburg rising above the ruins which crowned it. At last, after long and toilsome search, he reached a spot from whence he could perceive the latter object;—but then the steeple of Hermsdorf had sunk behind the mountain. The treasure-seeker became feverishly anxious,—he shifted his position,—now he moved lower down, now climbed farther up the ascent,—now he advanced towards the right, now towards the left,—sometimes he got two objects in the right position, but on looking round for the others, they had vanished; the perspiration streamed over his agitated features,—his eyes rolled wildly,—he threw his strained looks across the country,—“There now, I have it!” he would exclaim, and for a moment his countenance brightened up; but on looking again the deceitful land-marks had shifted their position. Thus tortured by the dreadful agony of high-wrought but perpetually dissappointed expectation, he continued gazing wildly across the distant country till the dusky twilight had concealed every object from his sight, and despair had risen to a pitch of madness. The poor wretch’s brain began to burn wildly, and he descended from the mountain a raving maniac; but every third day during the rest of his miserable life he sought to trace the position of the objects pointed out to him by Rubezahl with the same indescribable anxiety and baffled expectation.^[3]

 

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1. Warmbrun is a watering-place in the Silesian mountains, celebrated for its warm springs, which were discovered in the beginning of the 12th century.
2. One of the peaks of the Giant Mountain.
3. The same horrid story is current in the mountains of Salzburg.