The Metal King, huge and fierce-eyed,
surrounded by the misshapen Spirits of the Mines,
sat upon a block of pure silver, with a pile of
shining gold lying before him.
``Come in, my friend!'' he shouted again, and
again the echoes rolled through the cavern.
``Come near, and sit beside me.''
The lad advanced, pale and trembling, and
took his seat upon the silver block.
``Bring out more treasure,'' cried the Metal
King, and at his command the Mountain Spirits
fluttered away like dreams, only to return in a
moment and pile high before the wondering lad
bars of red gold, mounds of silver coin, and stacks
of precious jewels.
And when the lad saw all that wealth he felt
his heart burst with longing to grasp it, but when
he tried to put out his hand, he found that he
could not move his arm, nor could he lift his feet,
nor turn his head.
``Thou seest these riches,'' said the Metal
King; ``they are but a handful compared with
those thou mayest gain if thou wilt work with us
in the mines. Hard is the service but rich the
reward! Only say the word, and for a year and
a day thou shalt be a Mountain Spirit.''
``Nay,'' stammered the lad, in great terror,
``nay, I came not to work. All I beg of thee is
one bar of gold and a handful of the jewels that
lie here. If they are mine I can dress better than
the village lads, and ride in my own coach!''
``Lazy, ungrateful wretch!'' cried the Metal
King, rising from his seat, while his figure seemed
to tower until his head touched the cavern roof,
``wouldst thou seize without pay the treasures
gained through the hard labor of my Mountain
Spirits! Hence! Get thee gone to thy place!
Seek not here for unearned riches! Cast away thy
discontented disposition and thou shalt turn
stones into gold.
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