water is fatal to the Aryan frog-bride and to the
Red Indian beaver-wife, restoring them to their old animal forms, so the
magic touch of iron breaks love between the Welshman and his fairy
mistress, the representative of the stone age.

In many tales of fairy-brides, they are won by a kind of force. The
lover in the familiar Welsh and German Marchen sees the swan-maidens
throw off their swan plumage and dance naked.. He steals the feather-
garb of one of them, and so compels her to his love. Finally, she leaves
him, in anger, or because he has broken some taboo. Far from being
peculiar to Aryan mythology, this legend occurs, as Mr. Farrer has shown,
{83a} in Algonquin and Bornoese tradition. The Red Indian story told by
Schoolcraft in his 'Algic Researches' is most like the Aryan version, but
has some native peculiarities. Wampee was a great hunter, who, on the
lonely prairie, once heard strains of music. Looking up he saw a speck
in the sky: the speck drew nearer and nearer, and proved to be a basket
containing twelve heavenly maidens. They reached the earth and began to
dance, inflaming the heart of Wampee with love. But Wampee could not
draw near the fairy girls in his proper form without alarming them. Like
Zeus in his love adventures, Wampee exercised the medicine-man's power of
metamorphosing himself. He assumed the form of a mouse, approached
unobserved, and caught one of the dancing maidens. After living with
Wampee for some time she wearied of earth, and, by virtue of a 'mystic
chain of verse,' she ascended again to her heavenly home.

Now is there any reason to believe that this incident was once part of
the myth of Pururavas and Urvasi? Was the fairy-love, Urvasi, originally
caught and held by Pururavas among her naked and struggling companions?
Though this does not appear to have been much noticed, it seems to follow
from a speech of Pururavas in the Vedic dialogue {83b} (x. 95, 8, 9). Mr.
Max Muller translates thus: 'When I, the mortal, threw my arms round
those flighty immortals, they trembled away from me like a trembling doe,
like horses that kick against the cart.' {84a} Ludwig's rendering suits
our view--that Pururavas is telling how he first caught Urvasi--still
better: 'When I, the mortal, held converse with the immortals who had
laid aside their raiment, like slippery serpents they glided from me,
like horses yoked to the car.' These words would well express the
adventure of a lover