The Snow Queen

There was also, near by, a reindeer which the robber girl teased by tickling it with her long sharp knife.

Gerda lay awake for some time. "Coo, coo," said the wood pigeons. "We have seen little Kay. A white bird carried his sledge; he was sitting in the Snow Queen’s carriage which drove over the forest when our little ones were in the nest. She breathed on them, and all except we two died. Coo, coo!"

"What are you saying over there?" Gerda cried. "Where was the Snow Queen going to? Do you know at all?"

"She was probably travelling to Lapland, where there is always ice and snow. Ask the reindeer."

"There is capital ice and snow there!" Said the reindeer. "One can jump about there in the great sparkling valleys. There the Snow Queen has her summer palace, but her best palace is up by the North Pole, on the island called Spitzbergen."

"Oh Kay, my little Kay!" Sobbed Gerda.

"You must lie still," said the little robber girl, "or else I shall stick my knife into you!"

In the morning Gerda told her all that the wood pigeons had said. She nodded. "Do you know where Lapland is?" She asked the reindeer.

"Who should know better than I?" Said the beast, and his eyes sparkled. "I was born and bred there on the snow fields."

"Listen!" Said the robber girl to Gerda. "You see that all the robbers have gone; only my mother is left, and she will fall asleep in the afternoon – then I will do something for you!"

When her mother had fallen asleep, the robber girl went up to the reindeer and said, "I am going to set you free so that you can run to Lapland. But you must go quickly and carry this little girl to the Snow Queen’s palace, where her playfellow is. You must have heard all that she told about it, for she spoke loud enough!"

The reindeer sprang high for joy. The robber girl lifted little Gerda up, and had the foresight to tie her on firmly, and even gave her a little pillow for a saddle. "You must have your fur boots," she said, "for it will be cold; but I shall keep your muff, for it is so cosy! But, so that you may not freeze, here are my mother’s great fur gloves; they will come up to your elbows. Creep into them!"

Gerda cried for joy.

"Don’t make such faces!" Said the little robber girl. "You must look very happy. Here are two loaves and a sausage; now you won’t be hungry!"

They were tied to the reindeer, the little robber girl opened the door, made all the big dogs come away, cut through the halter with her sharp knife, and said to the reindeer, "Run now! But take great care of the little girl."

Gerda stretched out her hands with the large fur gloves towards the little robber girl and said, "Goodbye!"

Then the reindeer flew over the ground, through the great forest, as fast as he could. The wolves howled, the ravens screamed, the sky seemed on fire.

"Those are my dear old northern lights," said the reindeer, "see how they shine!" And then he ran faster still, day and night.

The loaves were eaten, and the sausage also, and then they came to Lapland. They stopped by a wretched little house; the roof almost touched the ground, and the door was so low that you had to creep in and out.

There was no one in the house except an old Lapland woman who was cooking fish over an oil lamp. The reindeer told Gerda’s whole history, but first he told his own, for that seemed to him much more important, and Gerda was so cold that she could not speak.

"Ah, you poor creatures!" Said the Lapland woman. "You have still further to go! You must go over a hundred miles into Finland, for there the Snow Queen lives, and every night she burns Bengal lights. I will write some words on a dried stockfish, for I have no paper, and you must give it to the Finland woman - for she can give you better advice than I can."

When Gerda was warmed and had something to eat and drink, the Lapland woman wrote on a dried stockfish, and begged Gerda to take care of it, tied Gerda securely on the reindeer’s back, and away they went again. The whole night was ablaze with Northern Lights, and then they came to Finland and knocked at the Finland woman’s chimney - for door she had none.

Inside it was so hot that the Finland woman wore very few clothes; she loosened Gerda’s clothes and drew off her fur gloves and boots. She laid a piece of ice on the reindeer’s head, and then read what was written on the stockfish. She read it over three times until she knew it by heart, and then put the fish in the saucepan, for she never wasted anything.

Then the reindeer told his story, and afterwards little Gerda’s, and the Finland woman blinked her eyes but said nothing.

"You are very clever," said the reindeer. "I know. Cannot you give the little girl a drink so that she may have the strength of twelve men and overcome the Snow Queen?"

"The strength of twelve men!" Said the Finland woman. "That would not help much. Little Kay is with the Snow Queen and he likes everything there very much and thinks it the best place in the world. But that is because he has a splinter of glass in his heart and a bit in his eye. If these do not come out, he will never be free, and the Snow Queen will keep her power over him."

"But cannot you give little Gerda something so that she can have power over her?"

"I can give her no greater power than she has already; don’t you see how great it is? Don’t you see how men and beasts must help her when she wanders into the wide world with her bare feet? She is powerful already, because she is a dear little innocent child. If she cannot by herself conquer the Snow Queen and take away the glass splinters from little Kay, we cannot help her! The Snow Queen’s garden begins two miles from here. You can carry the little maiden so far; put her down by the large bush with red berries growing in the snow. Then you must come back here as fast as you can."

Then the Finland woman lifted little Gerda on the reindeer and away he sped.

"Oh, I have left my gloves and boots behind!" Gerda cried. She missed them in the piercing cold, but the reindeer did not dare to stop. On he ran until he came to the bush with red berries. There he set Gerda down and kissed her mouth, and great big tears ran down his cheeks, and then he ran back. There stood poor Gerda, without shoes or gloves in the middle of the bitter cold of Finland.

She ran on as fast as she could. A regiment of gigantic snowflakes came against her, but they melted when they touched her, and she went on with fresh courage.

Now we must see what Kay was doing. He was not thinking of Gerda, and never dreamed that she was standing outside the palace.

The walls of the palace were built of driven snow, and the doors and windows of piercing winds. There were more than a hundred halls in it, all of frozen snow. The largest was several miles long; the bright Northern Lights lit them up, and very large and empty and cold and glittering they were! In the middle of the great hall was a frozen lake which had cracked in a thousand pieces; each piece was exactly like the other. Here the Snow Queen used to sit when she was at home.

Little Kay was almost blue and black with cold, but he did not feel it, for she had kissed away his feelings and his heart was a lump of ice.

He was pulling about some sharp, flat pieces of ice, and trying to fit one into the other. He thought each was most beautiful, but that was because of the splinter of glass in his eye. He fitted them into a great many shapes, but he wanted to make them spell the word "Love." The Snow Queen had said, "If you can spell out that word you shalt be your own master. I will give you the whole world and a new pair of skates." But he could not do it.

"Now I must fly to warmer countries," said the Snow Queen