arkus was built of costly sparkling stones, and
shone far off in the sun like gold. The palace lay near the holy forest,
where dwelt three good white gods and three black evil ones. There dwelt
the king and his court. His enemies feared him greatly, but his people
loved him as a father.

Although the king had gold and honour in abundance, yet one thing was
wanting to complete his happiness, for his wife had brought him no
child. He promised immense gifts to the white gods if they would only
listen to his prayer and grant his wish. And behold, after seven years
his prayer was answered, for the queen gave birth to twins. One was a
boy, as bold and impetuous as his father, and one was a girl, with
golden hair and eyes like blue harebells, which already smiled from the
cradle on her mother. The king was full of joy, and made great offerings
to the white gods, as he had vowed. But the black gods, who deemed
themselves worthy of equal honour, were greatly offended at being
despised by the king. So they went to the God of Death, and urged him to
gaze on the king's son with his evil countenance and to destroy him.

Meantime the boy grew rapidly, and became the delight of his parents.
But when he came to lisp the first word, he was struck by the evil
glance of Death. From this hour he pined away, and at length died. But
his sister, who was named Rannapuura, lived and flourished like a rose,
as the only joy of her parents.

But the hatred of the evil powers was not appeased by the partial
revenge which they had taken. So they contrived that when the king's
daughter was seven years old, she fell into the power of the wicked
witch Peipa. The witch carried Rannapuura away to her horrible abode,
which was in a rock beneath a lofty mountain ridge in Ingermanland. Here
the poor child was compelled to pass ten years of her life. But
notwithstanding her hard servitude to the witch, she grew up to
maidenhood, and no maiden in the whole world was so fair as she. As the
dawn shines ruddy on the borders of the horizon at daybreak and promises
fine weather, so shone her gentle face in quiet restfulness, and her
eyes proclaimed the angel heart in her bosom.

The king knew where his daughter was imprisoned, for a good spirit had
informed him, but, mighty as he was, he could accomplish nothing against
the craft and malice of the witch. So he abandoned all hope of rescuing
his daughter from this place of suffering. At length the white gods too