In Norwegian folk-lore the devil is a person with many relations, who are called _Jutuls_. In favour of the legends about them there is often some circumstantial evidence. Does a mountain or a rock bear similitude to the figures of human beings or of animals? Be sure that the Norwegians will have some tradition to account for the formation by proving to you that such rocks or mountains are the various creatures they resemble, bewitched. In the voyage along the northern coast of Norway from Trondhjem to the North Cape, the traveller will pass seven extraordinary mountains called "The Seven Sisters." A little farther he will see a rocky island which from certain points of view resembles a cloaked man on horseback riding into the sea. The head and ears of the horse are particularly natural.
The history of these islands is entertaining. One of the devil's younger brothers, who lived in this district, went on a visit to his seven sisters, who, like himself, were of giant growth. The sisters had with them a female cousin. With this Jutula their brother fell in love, and, as is customary in such cases, they swore eternal fidelity to each other. Business called the Jutul home; his beloved cousin was sent for to nurse a sick brother. She fulfilled this duty to admiration, and in the weakness of his convalescence her brother listened to the story of her love and promised her that she should wed her Jutul cousin. On his complete recovery he became less amenable, and, ignoring his promise, insisted that his sister should wed one of his dissolute companions. It is said that the Jutula's chief objection to this man was that he smelt strongly of tobacco; but I think that this must be embroidery, as my story is older than the use of tobacco. In any case, her refusal was absolute, and the brother was obliged to employ malignant magic. All the messengers from the Jutul, loving and beloved by his sister, were turned into rocks before they could reach her ear. The amorous Jutul was not aware that his beloved had a brother, or any other relation, and, concluding that she was the last of her race, believed also that it was she who had petrified his messengers. Wrathful, and having as his birthright an unerring aim, he mounted his steed and shot from his cross-bow a bolt at the dwelling of the Jutula. The perfidious brother was bathing at the time, and, presumably for the purposes of the story, he wore a sou'wester. The bolt, shot from seventy miles' distance, passed through the hat, and carried away a portion of the victim's skull; then, skimming the water, it pierced the heart of the fair one. She knew that only her lover had this unerring aim, and, thinking him faithless and cruel, used her dying moments in the exercise of her hereditary power, and petrified herself, her lover, his horse, and the floating sou'wester. There they remain to this day. Overlooking the scene of sorrow stand the seven sisters of the misguided lover, petrified with horror at the fate of their relations. The distance between the various islands is considerable; but it must be remembered that we tell of giants.