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Anders was the son of poor people, and in his youth he had wandered through many kingdoms, with a bale of cloth and a yard-measure on his back. But as he grew older he carne to the conclusion that it would be better to wear the king’s uniform and carry a rifle on his shoulder, and therefore he went and enlisted in the Vaestgotadal regiment. And one day it happened that he was sent to Stockholm on sentry duty.

Friend Cask, as he was now called, was on leave one day, and he made up his mind to spend it at the “Fort.” But when he came to the gate he found that he had not a sixpence, and consequently he had to remain outside.

For a long time he stood staring at the railings, and then he thought, “I’ll just walk round; perhaps I’ll come across a stile; if the worst comes to the worst, I’ll climb over.”

The sun was setting; he walked along the shore, at the foot of the mountain, and the railings were high above him; he could hear the sound of music and singing. Cask went round and round, but found no stile, and at last the railings disappeared in a forest of nut trees. When he was tired he sat down on a hillock and began to crack nuts.

Suddenly a squirrel appeared before him and put up its tail.

“Leave my nuts alone!” it said.

“I will, if you’ll take me to a stile,” said Cask.

“Part of the way, then,” said the squirrel. It hopped along and the soldier followed, until all at once it had vanished.

Then a hedgehog came rustling along.

“Come with me and I’ll show you the stile,” it said.

“Go with you? not if I know it.”

But in spite of his remark the hedgehog followed him.

Next an adder joined them. It was very genteel; it lisped and could twist itself into a knot.

“Follow me,” it said, “I will show you the stile.”

“I follow,” said Cask.

“But you mutht be genteel; you muthtn’t t stread as me. I like nithe people.”

“Well, a soldier isn’t exactly genteel,” said Cask, “but I’m not so terribly uncouth.”

“Tread on it,” said the hedgehog, “else it will bite you, ever so genteely.”

The adder reared its neck and rustled away.

“Stop!” shouted the hedgehog, attacking the snake. “I am not as genteel as you are, but I show my bristles openly, I do!”

And then it killed the snake and disappeared.

Now the soldier was alone in the wood and very sorry he felt that he had rejected the society of the prickly hedgehog.

It had grown dark, but the crescent of the moon shone between the birch leaves, and it was quite still.

The soldier fancied that he could see a big yellow hand moving backwards and forwards. He went close up to it, and then he saw that it was a yellow leaf, which seemed to gesticulate with its fingers, although nobody could possibly understand what it wanted to say.

As he stood there, watching it, he heard an asp trembling:

“Huh! I’m so cold,” said the asp, “for my feet are wet, and I am so frightened.”

“What are you frightened of?” asked the soldier.

“Well, of the dwarf who is sitting in the mountain.”

Now the soldier realised what the maple leaf meant, and there was no doubt about it, he saw a dwarf sitting in the mountain, cooking porridge.

“Who are you?” asked the dwarf.

“I belong to the Vaestgotadal regiment; where do you come from?”

“I,” said the dwarf, “I am in the Alleberg.”

“The Alleberg is in the Vaestgota country,” answered the soldier.

“We have removed it to this place,” replied the dwarf.

“You lie!” exclaimed the soldier, seized the pot by its handle and threw the porridge into the fire.

“Now we’ll have a look at the mouse-hole,” he said, and went right into the mountain.

There he found a giant sitting by a huge fire, making an iron bar red-hot.