Many years ago an epidemic swept over Dalland,
to which thousands of persons fell victims. Many people fled to the forests,
or to other regions. The churches were deserted, and those remaining were
not enough to bury the dead. At this stag an old Finlander came along, who
informed the few survivors that they need not hope for cessation of the scourge
until they had buried some living thing. The advice was followed. First a
cock was buried alive, but the plague continued as violent as ever. Next,
a goat, but this also proved ineffectual. At last a poor boy, who frequented
the neighbourhood, begging, was lured to a wood-covered hill at the point
where the river Daleborg empties into Lake Venem. Here a deep hole was dug,
the boy meantime sitting near, enjoying a piece of bread and butter that had
been given him. When the grave was deep enough, the boy was dropped into it
and the diggers began hurriedly to shovel the dirt upon him. The lad begged
and prayed them not to throw dirt upon his bread and butter, but the spades
flew faster, and in a few minutes, still alive, he was entirely covered and
left to his fate. Whether this stayed the plague is not know, but many who
after night pass the hill, hear, it is said, a voice as if from a dying child,
crying, "Buried alive! Buried Alive!"
Footnote in the original
text:
As late as 1875 a farmer near Mariestad (during
an epidemic among his cattle) buried a live cow in the ground. Whether this
cruel expedient was effective the author is not informed.
Source: Herman Hofberg, Swedish Fairy Tales, translated by W. H. Myers (Chicago, W. B. Conkey Company, 1893), p. 140. English corrected in this version.
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