The Winter Trolls, an old story

In olden times, all sorts of trolls lived just about everywhere in the Scandinavian countries.

The winter trolls make their homes under tree roots and in caves in the mountains. They like dark places as the sunlight hurts their eyes. They sleep all summer and become active in the darker, cold part of the year.

It is said that around mid December marked a beginning of a period when winter trolls and other winter spirits ran wild through the coutryside.

One cold, cold night, a traveler arrived with a large white bear, an "ice bear" (polar bear). He went to the farm house and explained he had caught the bear while young and had trained it himself. He added that he was going to take the ice bear to show him to the King of Denmark. He politely asked the farmer for lodging for himself and his ice bear for the night.

The farm owner sighed, for the traveler had arrived on the very night of the Jul feast.

"We can't give anyone lodging in the house tonight," said the farmer, "for every Jul our home is so full of trolls that we are forced to move out and sleep in the barn with our animals. We bring no dinner with us for fear of these trolls."

The farm owner explained that the winter trolls always came on the night of the Jul feast, attracted by the smells of the cooked food.

Despite their size, even small trolls possess immense strength. They created havoc, turning objects upside-down and breaking things. They attacked members the household and hit them with objects around the house. The trolls would eat the all the food for the midwinter Jul feast and make an awful mess.

So destructive were these winter trolls that the owner of the farm and his family and servants had taken to abandoning the farm house the night before Jul to sleep in the barn with their animals.

The farmer explained, "Before everyone moves out to the barn, everything is made ready for the trolls. We have set the table with cream porridge, sausages, and fish as for a grand Jul feast. It's the only way we can get any peace."

The farmer shook his head sadly, and then said, "Come with us to the barn to sleep tonight."

"May my bear come with me?" asked the traveler.

"No," said the farmer, "your bear will frighten my animals, but please sleep with us in barn. You will be safe in there."

"I do not wish to leave my ice bear alone. Let us use your house. My bear can sleep under the stove, and I can sleep in the storeroom."

After some discussion, the farmer reluctantly agreed. Still he urged the traveler to eat none of the food in the house as the feast was intended solely for the trolls. Nor should he interfere with the trolls for his own safety. The farm owner said, "I hope that if you leave them alone, they will not bother you."

The farm owner and the whole household locked themselves into the barn. The traveler wrapped himself in blankets in the storeroom. The ice bear curled up under the stove and fell fast asleep.

Late in the night--in came the trolls sniffing and smelling the feast. Some were very small, and some were larger. Many had long tails, and some had no tails at all. Some had long, long noses. Others had big floppy ears.

They hopped on the table of food. They were dirty and sloppy and awful in their behavior. They ate and drank and shouted at each other with their mouths full of food. They fought over dishes and each tasted every plate of food. They spilled drink and food everywhere, tossing the empty platters and bowls on the floor.

Wrapped in the blanket, the traveler heard the ruckus, but remembering the words of the farm owner, he stayed put.

Then, one of the small trolls spied the ice bear still sleeping soundly under the stove.

He yelped, "Kitty! Kitty! I see Kitty!" When the traveler overheard the voice shouting, "Kitty! Kitty!" he paid it no mind just like the rest of the shouting and bickering.

Meanwhile, the little troll snatched a piece of hot burning sausage and stuck it on a fork, and poked it at the ice bear shrieking, "Kitty! Kitty want some sausage? Kitty?" As the sleeping bear ignored the piece of meat, the little troll directly stabbed the ice bear's nose with the sharp fork and the hot burning sauage.

Startled and angry, the white bear rose up. Growling and snarling, the ice bear chased the whole pack of trolls round about and out of the farm house. Upon hearing the sound of his ice bear, the traveler jumped up and ran to the kitchen. He was just in time to see the trolls dashing and scrambling about. Small and large, he watched them all scamper away out the door and up into the mountains.

The farm owner and his household, alarmed by the sound of the angry bear, opened the door of the barn to see the last of the trolls fleeing into the winter night, shouting "Kitty! Kitty!"

The traveler began apologizing to the farmer, explaining what had happened and how sorry he was. To his surprise, the farm owner hugged him. He said he was glad that the trolls had all fled.

Everyone returned to the house and celebrated getting their home back with the rest of the Jul feast.

The next day, the traveler departed with his ice bear. Interestingly, the farm owner saw neither hide nor hair of trolls on the farmlands for the rest of that winter.

Yet, next winter in mid December, the farm owner was out in the woods near dusk, gathering firewood for the feast of Jul. He knew that the trolls would be roaming about the woods soon. He also feared the trolls perhaps would again invade his house at Jul.

As he was chopping, he heard a voice from the woods shouting his name. He realized it was a winter troll.

"Yes?" he replied.

"Do you still have that big Kitty?" the troll called.

The farm owner paused thoughtfully, realizing the troll was actually talking about the ice bear. "Ohhhh, Kitty...yes!" he replied, "Only she's grown quite large now, and has had seven kittens, each bigger than she is herself."

The troll let out a gasp, and shouted, "Then, we'll not be coming into your house again!! Just leave us our porridge outside!" The farm owner heard the troll stomp angrily off into the woods.

Thus, it is customary in some places to leave a bowl of Jul porridge outside the home for any winter spirits abroad on the night of the Jul feast.

copyright 2012 Myth Woodling

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