An aged count once lived in Switzerland, who had an only son, but he was stupid, and could learn nothing. Then said the father:

"Hark you, my son, try as I will I can get nothing into your head. You must go from here. I will give you into the care of a celebrated master, who shall see what he can do with you."

The youth was sent into a strange town, and remained a whole year with the master. At the end of this time, he came home again, and his father asked:

"Now, my son, what have you learnt?"

"Father, I have learnt to understand what the dogs say when they bark."

"By Bragi's wisdom!" cried the father. "Is that all you have learnt? I will send you into another town, to another master."

The youth was taken to a new master where he stayed a year. When he came back his father again asked:

"Now, my son, what have you learnt?"

He answered, "Father, I have learnt to understand what the birds say."

Then the father fell into a rage and said, "Oh, you lost man! You have spent the precious time and learnt nothing! Are you not ashamed to appear before my eyes! I will send you to a third master, but if you learn nothing this time also, I will no longer be your father."

The youth remained a whole year with this third master. When he came home again, his father inquired:

"Now, my son, what have you learnt?"

He answered, "Father, this year I have learnt to understand what the frogs croak."

His father fell into the most furious anger. He sprang up, called his people together, and said:

"This man is no longer my son! I drive him forth, and command you to take him out into the forest, and kill him."

They took him forth, but when they should have killed him, they could not do it for pity, and let him go. They cut the eyes and the tongue out of a deer that they might carry them to the old man as a token.

The youth wandered. After some time he came to a fortress where he begged for a night's lodging.

"Yes," said the lord of the castle, "if you will pass the night down there in the old tower. Go there, but I warn you, it is at the peril of your life. It is full of wild dogs, which bark and howl without stopping, and at certain hours a man has to be given to them, whom they at once devour. The whole district is in sorrow and dismay because of them, and yet no one can do anything to stop this."

The youth, however, was without fear, and said:

"Just let me go down to the barking dogs, and give me something that I can throw to them, they will do nothing to harm me."

Since this was the way he wanted things, they gave him food for the wild dogs, and led him down to the tower.

When he went inside, the dogs did not bark at him, but wagged their tails to show their friendship, ate what he set before them, and never harmed him.

Next morning, to the astonishment of everyone, he came out again safe and unharmed, and said to the lord of the castle:

"The dogs have revealed to me, in their own language, why they dwell there, and bring evil on the land. They are bewitched. They are cursed to watch over a great treasure below in the tower, and they can have no rest until it is taken away. I have likewise learnt, from their discourse, how that is to be done."

Everyone who heard this rejoiced, and the lord of the castle said:

"If you can carry out this task and retrieve this great treasure then you will no longer be a wanderer, but I will adopt you as my own son."

He went down again, and as he knew what he had to do, he did it thoroughly, and brought a chest full of gold out with him.

The howling of the wild dogs was never heard again. They disappeared, and the country was freed from the trouble.

After some time he took it into his head that he would travel to Miklagard. On the way he passed by a marsh, in which a number of frogs were sitting croaking. He listened to them, and when he became aware of what they were saying, he grew very thoughtful and sad.

At last he arrived in Miklagard, where the Emperor had just died without leaving an heir, and there was great doubt among the ministers as to who should succeed him. They at length agreed that the person should be chosen as Emperor who should be distinguished by some divine and miraculous token.

Just as that was decided on, the young count entered into the imperial court, and suddenly two snow-white doves flew on his shoulders and remained sitting there. The ministers recognised at once the token from above, and asked him on the spot if he would be Emperor.

He was undecided, and knew not if he was worthy of this, but the doves counselled him to do it, and at length he said yes.

Then was he anointed and consecrated, and thus was fulfilled what he had heard from the frogs on his way, which had so affected him, that he was to be his Highness the Emperor.

Then he had to sing a mass, and did not know one word of it, but the two doves sat continually on his shoulders, and said it all in his ear.

It came to pass, however, that when the Emperor grew old and frail, a dog ran across the street in front of his carriage as he was being ferried from one imperial appointment to another.

The driver of the carriage swerved so sharply that a wheel was thrown and the Emperor was cast out into the dirt and the mire. The driver was enraged and cracked his whip at the dog. The dog, however, managed to avoid his blows and rushed up and licked the face of the Emperor.

As he licked, he whispered to the Emperor: "Now is the time for your sojourn in a land that is not your own to end."

The Emperor sighed. "I have been given three sorts of wisdom, and with them I have ruled this empire as best as I can. I have mumbled the alien prayers of a strange people with the help of the doves. I have listened to the croaking of the frogs in the marshes and learned of the movements of my enemies in faraway places. And whenever I needed income for a building project, then I would consult the dogs, who are cursed to care for the base riches of this world. I am tired with the weight of these three wisdoms. I think it is time to return."

The dog ran off as the driver rushed up, but the Emperor was hurt and carried by a litter of servants to his bedroom. There the imperial physicians studied his wounds and knew that he was worn out and it was his time to leave this mortal scene.

That night, the Emperor gave his imperial seal ring to his first-born son, and told him the three secrets he had been trained in. The son wept piteously, but his father comforted him.

"This is your land. This is the place where you first opened your eyes. This is the land where your mother grew up. All this is yours by right and birth. But I am still a stranger here, and although I have led the people of the land in the worship of meek prophets, I am still a son of my own gods."

"But, father…" began his son, but the old Emperor hushed him.

"Look!"

The son turned and looked. The moon rode high in the sky and the clouds were parted, and a troop of ghostly horsemen rode down out of the sky. About the heels of their horses the wild dogs of the chase bugled and gave tongue. About their heads, the doves had changed to hawks and they were fastened to the hawk-gauntlets of the hunters, and their eyes were sharp and fell.

As they came down out of the sky, the frogs in the royal gardens all gave tongue.

The leader of the hunt was a grey and grizzled veteran of the hunt, and he carried the reins of a riderless horse in his hand. The Emperor embraced his son for one last time, and mounted this horse.

The son stood back, as the hounds gave tongue, the frogs croaked in a riot of strange tongues, and the ghostly hawks with red eyes and sharp beaks screeched harshly, and the company of riders, reared their mounts with flashing hooves and flying manes and rolling eyes.

And on certain nights in the autumn, the old Emperor can sometimes still be glimpsed, a-horse with the Wild Hunt, flying with the geese that stream through the darkness overhead.

     
Based on The Three Languages