The snow-flakes were falling all over the northern Gold Land, for it was mid-winter. Against the ice-bound shore the angry breakers of the great Pacific dashed, and the wind whistled like a trumpeter.

A warm fire burned on the hearth of the fisherman’s hut, and with a red face the good-wife bent over it, preparing the supper. The old man stood by the window looking out, and thinking his poor thoughts of the wind and the tide, which ended always with the same refrain, “God help us fisher folk!” Suddenly he gave a quick start, exclaiming—“Hark! wife; what is that?”

The old woman dropped the wooden spoon, and listened to the clear voices that rose above the storm:—

Then came the savage old trumpeter, and blew a great blast close by the door and window of the little hut. It was really quite startling, and the old woman clung to her husband’s arm; but above all they could hear the shrill clear voices calling—

“I can not do it,” said the good-wife, trembling; but the old man walked straight to the door. Though his wife entreated him, saying, “It is the Evil One who calls without, dear husband, do not open it,” he lifted the latch fearlessly. With a great bang in rushed the wind and blew out the candle.

“God save us!” cried the good-wife, crossing herself, almost ready to swoon with fright.

A bright glow from the fire fell upon a willow basket, covered with a fine crimson cloth. As the old man took it up, a little wailing cry rose, which touched the woman’s heart more than all her fears. Taking it from her husband, she exclaimed—

“God pity it! It is a little innocent child!”

The old man pressed hard upon the door, and drove out the ugly wind. Then he came to the fire, and saw his wife folding in her kind arms the most beautiful little child that even a poet could imagine. She was as white as a snow-flake, only the rose tinge upon her cheeks and her lips were like ripe cherries. Her hair was soft as silk, and lay in pretty waves of gold about her head, like the shining crown of a little princess.

The good people were greatly bewildered; but when they looked into the liquid blue eyes of the little one, it seemed like a deep fountain of happiness that was opened to them, and they were delighted beyond measure. As they had no children, this child seemed like a God’s gift, and they adopted her for their own.

Her little robes were of the finest material, daintily embroidered, but among them all there was nothing to tell her name or parentage, only a coral necklace with a golden clasp, engraved with the letters “G. S.”

“Was ever any thing so strange?” said the good-wife. “But she is our child now, and we will call her Golden Snow, for her hair is shining like gold, and her complexion fair as the driven snow.”

The poor fisher-folk had now something to love, and were never so happy in their lives.

The long winter gave place to the pleasant summer time, and the little child grew lovelier day by day, till in all the northern gold land there was not a maiden who could compare with her.

Good fortune had followed the fisherman. Ever since that stormy night he had never drawn in his net empty, and there had been always plenty in the larder. The old woman often said, “It all comes of Golden Snow—she is our luck child.”As the years went by, she had taught the maiden all she knew herself, which was little enough, to be sure; but the child had other teachers. From the birds she received the gift of song, and learned the wonderful stories of the far southern lands.

The leaves of summer, and the evergreens of winter, whispered a thousand pleasant things in her ear, but it was the snow-flakes that she loved best of all. The old fisher-folk often heard them calling her as they flew about in the winter storm:—

Then, before the good-wife could stop her, the little maiden would fly out into the storm, full of joy, dancing about as lightly as the snow-flakes themselves.At first the old fisherman would run after her, and bring her in quickly, for fear that the chill of the storm would kill her; but when he saw that this only saddened her, and how rosy, laughing, and healthful she always was with the snow-flakes, he said to the good-wife—

“They do not harm her—let the child have her way.”

After this they would stand by the window watching her; and very often they heard her saying—

“My pretty sisters, how merry we are—how much I love you! The winter, oh! the winter, is the joy time, and my sisters the fairies of the winter.”

Then the snow-flakes would answer:—

So it happened that the old fisher-folk found out that Golden Snow was a princess, and they no longer wondered at the innate grace of the lovely child. Every thing she said, and all her ways, was so charming that it was impossible to resist her; but as she was so gentle and good, this was all well. Every night, before she went to sleep, she said reverently—“Our Father, who art in heaven.” The loving God heard her, and kept her heart pure, as she passed on through the portals of childhood into timid, dreamy maidenhood.

One day, in the winter time, when Golden Snow was about fifteen years old, a herald rode by the fisherman’s cottage, crying—“The prince! the prince will marry the most beautiful maiden in all the Gold Land. Hear! hear! the prince will marry the most-beautiful maiden in all the Gold Land!”Then the old fisherman went out and asked the messenger what it meant.

“It means this,” replied the man, “that though the prince and all his ancestors were born in Russia, he has determined to marry only in the Gold Land, and the most beautiful maiden. For you must know, that though he is so high born in the old world, the estates are getting poor, but here he has won every thing. He has opened a mine so rich that he will never be able to count his money. He wishes his children to be real lords of the Gold Land—to be miner princes. So here he will marry even the poorest maiden, but she must be the most beautiful.”

Then he told how all the lovely young girls in the country were invited to a great feast at the castle, and that the prince would choose a wife from among them.

After this, the herald went crying before every house, no matter how humble, for this was the command of the prince.

The old fisherman went into the cottage, and told all to the good-wife.

“Golden Snow is the most beautiful maiden,” she answered.

“Yes,” said the old man, “Golden Snow is the most beautiful, but he who wins must seek her. She should not go to the castle for a husband, even though he were a king.”

This grieved the mother, for all her life she had eaten the bread of toil, and she longed to see the dainty fingers of her adopted child covered with rings, and to have her wear costly trailing robes, such as the wives and daughters of the great miner princes wore.

In the corner sat Golden Snow, braiding her silken hair, which was so long it swept the ground. She bound the broad plaits about her head, and formed a shiny-crown.

“Was there ever any thing like it?” said the old woman, sighing, and passing her brown hand fondly over the beautiful tresses.

“The father is right,” replied Golden Snow. “My sisters will see to it. Have never a care, mother;” and the maiden began singing the nightingale’s song, till the rafters of the old hut rang with the silvery melody.

“The chit of a child has never a care,” thought the old woman, “but it is different with me, who know what life is.”

All through the north land there was great excitement. Everywhere the young girls wrought upon gay dresses, and the fathers and mothers consulted together, that nothing might be wanting in the ball costumes of their daughters, for each one thought—“Our child is the most beautiful maiden.”

The morning dawned without a ray of sunshine. Only the heavy snow-clouds covered the sky.

“My sisters are getting ready for the ball to-night,” laughed Golden Snow. “Very soon the messengers will be flying out after the fleecy fringes and ribbons, for every one must be dressed in the real court costume.”

“Silly child, silly child,” answered the old woman; yet silently she thought—“If my daughter could go to the ball, the prince would surely fall in love with her, for in all the north land she is the only true princess.”

“See, they are coming, mother!” exclaimed Golden Snow, clapping her hands with delight.

The old woman looked out of the window, and saw everywhere the snow-flakes flying about, like little madcaps, over hill and valley.

It seemed a long day to her; there was a chill in the air, and she was not happy. Satos, the old fisherman, came in, saying, in his good-natured voice, “It will be stormy to-night, wife.”

“Ah, well,” replied she, “what will that matter to us, who stay at home?”

Just then a knock came at the door; and when the old man opened it, he saw a stately lady, who was so covered with snow that no part of her dress could be seen. It was like a cloak about her. Upon her head she wore a band of shining brilliants, that so dazzled the old man that he could not speak a word.

The lady stepped into the cottage, and when she saw Golden Snow, she embraced her fondly, saying, “My dear child, I have not forgotten that it is your birthday, and that you are now fifteen years old.” She took a little box from her pocket, and placed it upon the floor. In a few moments it had increased to so great a size that it was large enough to hold the entire wardrobe of a lady.

Golden Snow kissed her hand, and thanked her again and again.

“I must go now,” said the lady; “I can not endure the heat; but never fear, my child, for your sisters shall attend to every thing. Now, good-bye;” and again she embraced the young maiden tenderly, and in a moment was gone.

The fisherman and his wife had been standing gazing upon this scene in silent amazement; but when the lady had disappeared, and they could not see how, the old woman recovered her voice—

“Father,” she exclaimed, “the lady! she did not go out at the door, nor the window; how did she go?”

“Don’t ask me, wife—I don’t know any thing,” replied the old man in a bewildered way. “I believe—I rather think I am in the fog.” And after this he sank into a chair, and did not speak again for an hour. He was trying in vain to get out of the fog. A clear, ringing laugh startled the old man; it was Golden Snow, whose eyes were glistening with mirth.

“Who was she, child?” asked the good-wife.

“It was the Snow Queen, mother,” replied the young girl, as soon as she could speak for laughing. “But now let us look at my birthday gift.”

The good woman’s curiosity overcame her wonder; so, taking the silver key, she unlocked the great box, and displayed such a quantity of beautiful things, that her admiration was as great as her amazement.

There were shining robes of silver and gold cloth, and rich cloaks of fur, ornamented with glittering gems. Golden Snow was almost wild with delight, and her beaming eyes glistened with the unexpected pleasure. And the good-wife, though the mysticism troubled her greatly, could not but rejoice at the sight of all these treasures.

She took up a robe of silver cloth, richly embroidered with gold, saying, “Oh! my child, if you could only wear this to the ball, I should live to see you the bride of a real prince, and the richest man in all the Russian possessions, except the great czar himself.”

The old woman sighed heavily, adding, “It would not be right to say aught against the good-man, for there is nobody like him; but I do believe he would have his way if old Nickey Bend stood at the door with his cloven hoof, so it is no use talking—we must give up the ball, my child.”

“And I am content,” said Golden Snow, fastening a string of pearls into the shining crown that she had formed of her own abundant tresses. Then she threw about her a rich fur mantle, made of a thousand different skins of the finest quality.

“I must go now, and dance for a while with my sisters. Remember, mother,” she added, as the old woman shook her head, “it is my birthnight—you would not deny me.”

The old woman listened, and heard the clear voices calling:—

“Kiss me, mother, for I must go,” said the maiden, eagerly. And with the old woman’s kiss warm upon her cheek, she ran out and danced with the pretty snow-flakes till her face glowed and her eyes sparkled like the rich carbuncle that clasped her mantle.

“It is getting late; come in, child! come in!” called the old woman, who grew weary waiting.

The maiden kissed her white hands to the fleecy snow-flakes, singing like a bird—

There was a little sound, as though soft hands met and young lips kissed each other, and Golden Snow ran into the house, rosy, joyous, and ready to obey the good mother, even when she said, “Go to bed, my dear child,” though the bright eyes were still wide awake.

“You will tell me a story, mother,” said the young girl, in a coaxing tone.

So the old woman sat down by the bedside, and told her a wonderful story of the olden time, how a fair princess was changed into a blue bird by the incantations of a wicked old witch, who had red eyes, and had studied the black art. And how, after a long time, the cruel enchantment was broken by a brave young prince, who had marvelous adventures. “So it all ended happily,” said the old mother, bending over Golden Snow to kiss her. Then she saw that the young maiden slept, and she stood gazing upon her fresh young face, and thinking curious thoughts, which somehow were enwoven with the web of the story she had been telling, but all ended in this:—“Golden Snow is the most beautiful maiden.”

At the castle the musicians were playing, and the grand saloon was like an enchanted hall, with fragrant air and gorgeous light. The delicious music stole into the heart, and throbbed in the impassioned pulses of the guests, the noble gentlemen and fair ladies.

The dark-eyed brunette rivaled the delicate blonde, and all were lovely in their dainty robes, with the soft mellow light floating around them.

Amid the festive throng, with courtly hospitality, walked the young prince. The winds and sun had bronzed his handsome face, and the damp exhalations of the mine had moistened the rich curls of his dark hair. Yet nothing in all the rough miner’s life had harmed him in any way. He was a prince born, and a real prince at heart. There was not a father in the north land who would not have taken him by the hand, nor a mother who would not have been proud of him. Even the young maidens whispered together, “He is a man; one could look up to him, and that is the best of all.”

The prince was attentive to all his fair guests, but he danced more with the consul’s daughter. She was a proud young beauty, so ambitious, that she had treated with scorn many an honest heart in the Gold Land.

“My great-great-grandfather was younger brother to an earl, and I am beautiful enough to be the bride of a nobleman,” she would say, as she sat by her mirror. When the herald came with the invitation to the ball, she determined in her mind to marry the rich Russian prince.

“Of course,” she thought, “I am the most beautiful, so that is settled. I will go back to the old world, where I will astonish even the queen with the richness of my dress and the luster of my jewels, and every one will pay court to the princess of the Gold Land.”

So she went to the ball with glistening eyes and a proud flush upon her cheek, and all the guests whispered, “The consul’s daughter is the most beautiful maiden.” It found an echo in the heart of the prince, so that the matter seemed really decided.

Just then the music ceased, for the musicians were weary. The dancers were quite out of breath, and the windows of the grand saloon were opened to admit the refreshing air.Without, the snow-flakes were holding their revel in honor of the princess Golden Snow. Up to the great carved windows they flew, and their clear voices sounded through the ball-room so distinctly, that the prince and all his guests heard them:

The flush of pride in the cheek of the consul’s daughter gave place to the deeper red of anger. Her eyes shot flames of fire, and her brow darkened with heavy clouds. “What does this insult mean?” she said sharply to the prince.

The young man gave a start, as though he were awaking from a dream. “It is strange,” he answered, “but it shall be looked to, lady. What it means I can not tell.”He called his servants, telling them to bring in the people who were crying without. When the men returned, they were trembling, and seemed quite afraid.

“There are a hundred voices, but no person is without, only the snow-flakes flying about like living things.”

Then the prince went out himself, and a great search was made all over the grounds of the castle, but not a human being could be found. Still, everywhere the voices could be heard, and the snow-flakes thickened, till at last the search was given up.

“It is the work of magic and evil,” said the consul and all his friends; but the prince offered a great reward to any one who would find the beautiful Golden Snow, and all the guests were invited to return in one week’s time.

All the week the young prince could think of nothing but the mysterious voices that pursued him, and everywhere his messengers were seeking for the beautiful Golden Snow.

The consul’s daughter was nearly wild with rage and disappointment. One evening, in the dusky twilight, she went down into the shadows of a dark caÑon, and consulted a wicked old witch, who lived in a dismal cavern.

“Am I not the fairest of all the maidens in the new world?” she asked, “but what means this cry of ‘Golden Snow?’”

“You are very fair,” answered the old witch, “but I must read the stars.” So she went down into the lowest depths of the caÑon, and in the bottom of a deep well she read the stars:—

“What does it mean?” asked the consul’s daughter, pale and trembling with emotion.

“I will tell you! Golden Snow is the Elixir of Beauty, and if you can obtain it, and wash in it, you will become the most enchanting maiden in the world.”

“Where shall I find it? I will give you any thing—any thing for this Elixir of Beauty.”

Then the witch told her, if she would promise to be her slave one day in every month, she would help her to procure the great treasure.

“I can buy the old woman off when I become the bride of the rich prince,” thought the young girl. So she promised, and the witch brought out a wrinkled yellow parchment, and wrote the contract. Piercing the maiden’s arm, she dipped the pen in the blood, and the consul’s daughter signed it with a trembling hand.“That is good,” said the old witch, her red eyes glaring at the maiden. “Now you must go to the summit of the black mountain, just over the prince’s mine, and bring me a quart of the snow that has drifted round the roots of the blasted pine. All your gold and jewelry you must bring, and, at twelve o’clock to-morrow night, come to the cavern, and I will give you the Elixir of Beauty, the wonderful golden snow.”

The consul’s daughter took off all her jewelry, necklace, bracelets, and all the gold she had she gave to the old witch. Then she toiled up the steep mountain, and at last, weary and worn, returned with the snow from the roots of the blasted pine.

When the young girl had left the cavern, the woman bent over the blazing fire, with alembic and crucible. “Who can tell the wonderful mystery,” she muttered to herself, as the liquid boiled up yellow as gold. “I myself will wash in it, and become young and fair again.”

The night came on in darkness, and at eleven o’clock the old witch carried the liquid out in the chill air, and with her red eyes, that could see best in the darkness, watched it as it changed in form, till, just as the bell in the church tower rung out twelve, she saw before her the Elixir of Beauty, the magic golden snow.

Just at that moment she heard the voice of the consul’s daughter calling, “It is so dark, I cannot see; give me your hand, and lead me to the Elixir of Beauty. I have dared so much for it! I am almost dead with fright.”

“In a moment,” answered the old woman, and she slipped the golden snow into a crevice in the rock, leaving only a little for the maiden. Reaching out her hand, she led the trembling girl into the cavern, and, taking an ivory box, filled it with pure white snow. Sprinkling over it the remnant of the Elixir of Beauty, she gave it to the maiden, saying, “Wash in it, and you will become as lovely as the dawn.”

When the young girl opened the box, it looked to her yellow and shiny, for the old witch had cast a glamour over it, so she went away quite satisfied.

She concealed her treasure in her private closet, and every night, after all in the house had retired, she washed her face, and, because there was the remnant of the Elixir of Beauty in it, she became fairer every day. All who saw her wondered, and said, “Surely the consul’s daughter is the most beautiful maiden!”

Through the whole week the herald of the prince rode over the Gold Land, everywhere seeking for Golden Snow. Once he passed the fisherman’s cottage, but that morning the fisher folk and their adopted child had gone down to the beach. As chance would have it, they missed the messenger.

Again the castle was illuminated, and the guests were assembled.

There were beautiful maidens, but the consul’s daughter shone like the morning. Again the heart of the prince re-echoed the wondering admiration of the guests, and his deep dark eyes flashed with a strange magnetic fire.

As the evening advanced, it grew warm, with the great lights flashing everywhere, and the delicious notes of the music vibrating and thrilling in every form.

“Do not open the windows,” entreated the consul’s daughter, “for the snow-flakes are drifting with the wind, and the night air is chill.” A shudder passed over her, so they opened only the doors of the grand saloon. But one of the warm and weary dancers went out secretly, and opened the carved oval window of the great hall. Then, louder than ever, the clear voices floated into the hall, and in all the winding corridors found a hundred echoes, till the whole castle reverberated with them:—

The consul’s daughter was again frantic with rage; her eyes glared with fury, and her face grew frightful with the heat of passion. The dream had passed forever from the heart of the prince, and he wondered that, only a moment before, he had thought the face, so contorted with anger, beautiful as a painter’s bright ideal.Everywhere they searched, but could find no one, so, while the mystery deepened, the ball ended.

In the morning, the prince mounted a fine black horse, and started off as for a long journey. For months he wandered over the northern Gold Land, seeking everywhere the princess Golden Snow.

At last, when he had given up all hope, and was returning disappointed to the castle, he chanced to ride by the fisherman’s cottage. The old fisher folk sat in the corner mending a net, and Golden Snow, in her rich, marvelous voice, was singing to them one of the songs of the sea. The prince stopped his horse and listened, drinking in every note of the delicious melody. When it was ended, he dismounted, and, leading his horse by the bridle, knocked at the door, and the good-wife opened it.“Tell me, good mother, who it was singing, for, in all my life, never a voice came so into my heart.”

“It was the princess Golden Snow,” answered the old woman, proudly.

The prince entered, and saw Golden Snow in all her matchless grace and beauty. Around her head was her crown of shining hair, decked with brilliants, and a mantle of the richest fur covered her. She had only just returned from the sea-shore, with the rich flush of exercise upon her cheek, and her eyes were beaming with the rare beauty of her gentle spirit.

The fisherman rose to meet the young prince, who told him, in his handsome, manly way, how all over the north land he had been seeking for the princess Golden Snow; and how at last, when hope was almost dying, he had found the treasure.The old man listened gravely; then he placed the white hand of the maiden in the young man’s strong, true palm, saying, “Not because you are a Russian prince, but because you are one of God’s noblemen, I give you my dear child. Take her, for in her loving heart she is the most beautiful maiden.”

Thus the young people were betrothed in the cottage of the good fisher folk, and, when the news spread over the country, there was great rejoicing. They were married at the old church, where the stones are covered with lichens, and many a poor man’s heart was made glad by the generosity of the prince that day.

The consul’s daughter was too angry to join in the festivities, but all the former guests of the castle were there, and among them sat the fisher folk in the place of honor.All over the northern Gold Land flew the joyous snow-flakes, dancing at the wedding of their princess.

Everywhere in the grand saloon, and through the winding corridors of the castle, with strains of rich music mingled the clear mysterious voices:—

Thus all were happy, save the consul’s daughter, whose pride and rage devoured her. For one day every month she was doomed to be the slave of the wicked old witch, which was wretchedness. At last, one night, when her tasks had been too hard for endurance, from her great weariness and sickness of heart, she cried out, “O Lord Christ, forgive and pity me!”

Then the old witch gave a wild shriek of madness, and disappeared in the black shadows of the caÑon forever.

Because she had hidden part of the golden snow, by this prayer the maiden was delivered out of her hands.

The selfish pride of the consul’s daughter was humbled, and she grew so gentle and good, that all, even the poor and dependent, learned to love her, so that she, too, became, in heart, a beautiful maiden.