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Updated: June 19, 2025
Hard by is a fair-flowing stream, and there, with an arrow from his strong bow, did the Prince, the son of Zeus, slay the Dragoness, mighty and huge, a wild Etin, that was wont to wreak many woes on earthly men, on themselves, and their straight-stepping flocks, so dread a bane was she.
Seven little sons had Margaret, and happy and gay was their life in their woodland home. Yet oft did Margaret grieve that her little wee sons had never been taken to holy church. She wished that the priest might christen them there. Now one day Hynde Etin slung his bow across his shoulder, placed a sheath of arrows in his belt, and was up and away to the hunt. With him he took his eldest wee son.
'Ask what ye will, my bonny wee boy, said Hynde Etin, 'for never will I be cross with you. 'My mother ofttimes weeps, father. Why is it that she sobs so bitterly? 'Your mother weeps, my little wee son, for sore she longs to see her own kin. Twelve long years is it and more since last she saw them, or heard the church bells ring.
'And the third ye shall hand to the minstrel. You will see him with his harp, standing in the hall. It may be he will play goodwill to my bonny wee son who has come from Elmond wood. Then young Etin did as his mother had said. The first ring he gave to the porter, and without a word the gate was opened for the little wee boy.
'This day shall ye dine with me. Around the earl's table sat the lady Margaret, her husband dear, and her seven little wee sons. And the little Etin looked and looked and never a tear did he see on his mother's face. 'A boon I have to ask, cried then the little wee boy; 'I would we were all in the holy church that the good priest might christen me and my six little brothers.
Then did he christen the lady Margaret's seven little wee sons. And their names, beginning with the tiniest, were these Charles, Vincent, Sam, Dick, James, John. And the eldest little wee son was, as you already know, named after his father, Etin. And back to the earl's gay castle went the lady Margaret with Hynde Etin and her seven little new-christened sons.
But Margaret did not care to answer. She only shook her head. Then said Hynde Etin, 'I am forester of Elmond wood, nor should ye enter it without my leave. 'Nay now, cried the lady Margaret, 'leave will I ask of no man, for my father is earl of all this land.
'Where is your mother? then cried the earl, and the tears rolled down his cheek. 'My mother is standing at the castle gate, and with her are my six little wee brothers, said the bonny young Etin. 'Run, porter boys, run fast, said the earl, 'and throw wide open the gates that my daughter may come in to me. Into the hall came Margaret, her six little sons by her side.
'The lady Margaret is in her father's hall, Hynde Etin, said the hunters, 'nor food will she eat until ye do come to her. There is a pardon for you here sealed by the earl's own hand. Then Hynde Etin smoothed his yellow locks, and gay was he as he went with the hunters to the castle. Down on his knee before the earl fell Hynde Etin. 'Rise, Etin, rise! cried the earl.
This poor Jack of the Nursery, with his miraculous shoes of swiftness, coat of darkness, sword of sharpness, he is one. Hynde Etin, and still more decisively Red Etin of Ireland, in the Scottish Ballads, these are both derived from Norseland; Etin is evidently a Jotun. Nay, Shakspeare's Hamlet is a twig too of this same world-tree; there seems no doubt of that.
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