A boy was gathering mushrooms in the forest—the big ones he placed in his basket, but the small ones he crushed under his boots. The old Forest Spirit saw the mushroom-gatherer and grew angry. He summoned a swamp mist upon him. The boy became a morel.
He looked around and saw standing about him honey mushrooms—little fellows; milk mushrooms—old crones; and russula—sturdy peasants. The King Bolete approached and asked:
“Who are you?”
“I am a boy.”
“No, you are a morel!” said the King Bolete. “Hide yourself quickly!”
The morel ran beneath a bush. Toward him came a prickly hedgehog. It saw the morel and said:
“What a pretty, handsome little mushroom! I will take it for my dinner.”
It tossed the morel onto its back, onto its needles, and carried it to its burrow. Toward them bounded a squirrel. It saw the morel and said:
“What a pretty, handsome little mushroom! It will serve for winter stores and provisions.”
It snatched the morel from the hedgehog and leaped onto a tree. A crow flew by. It saw the morel and said:
“What a pretty, handsome little mushroom! I will take it to my nest.”
The crow began hopping from branch to branch, trying to take the morel from the squirrel. And the squirrel ran from the crow. It could not hold the morel and dropped it. It fell onto a bear trail.
Along came the thick-pawed bear. With its paws it pressed the grass to the earth, broke bushes, and stripped bark from stumps. Any moment now it would step on the mushroom. The morel grew frightened and darted aside. It jumped into a pit and cried out:
“Ma-ma!”
The swamp mist dispersed, and the morel turned back into a boy.
In a black, black forest, beneath a tall pine, sat the Forest Spirit, mending his coat with bast and patching it with moss.
A sparrow flew in.
The Forest Spirit asked:
“Sparrow, sparrow, what have you seen?”
“Chiv-chiv! A peasant came to the forest on a cart for firewood.”
“He came for no good! A tree will fall and kill his horse.”
A crow flew in. The Forest Spirit asked:
“Crow, crow, what have you seen?”
“Carr-carr! A hunter came to the forest with a dog.”
“He came for no good! A bear will maul the dog.”
A cuckoo flew in. The Forest Spirit asked:
“Cuckoo, cuckoo, what have you seen?”
“Coo-coo, coo-coo! A girl came to the swamp with a basket to gather cloudberries.”
“She came for no good! The Swamp Spirit will drag the girl into the mire.”
“Coo-coo, coo-coo! But I have cuckooed many years for the girl.”
“Well, you speckled one! You know nothing of what you speak, yet you cuckoo! I shall have to rescue the girl.”
The Forest Spirit came to the swamp. He stamped his feet on the moss, splashed and clapped his hands on the water. And he cried:
“Swamp Spirit, Swamp Spirit, do not touch the girl! The cuckoo has cuckooed many years for her!”
The Swamp Spirit did not wish to give up his prey. He thrust his green beard from the water and said:
“Here now, Snag-and-Drift! Drown the Forest Spirit!”
Snag-and-Drift leaped from the swamp. It swirled around the Forest Spirit, seized his beard, and dragged him toward the water. The Forest Spirit twisted his head and bellowed in a terrible voice. The woodpeckers heard and flew in from the forest.
They began pecking Snag-and-Drift with their long beaks. They pecked it all to splinters and scattered it across the ground. The Forest Spirit seized the Swamp Spirit by his green hair and pulled him from the water onto the bank. The Swamp Spirit grew frightened and begged:
“Let me go back to the swamp! I will not touch the girl!”
The Forest Spirit released the Swamp Spirit. And the girl gathered a full basket of cloudberries by the swamp and went home.
The Forest Spirit is a diligent master of the forest. The speech of birds and animals is understandable to him. From them he learns what happens in his domain. He is chief over the mushrooms. He knows the designs of man who comes into the forest.