his hand as it lay there, though the weight of the stone was only one ounce troy.
The belief in elf-shooting extends, or has extended, from the Shetland Islands to Cornwall.[1] In the Shetland Islands a charm, is repeated over the wounded creature, while a sewing-needle, wrapped in a leaf of the Psalter, is fastened into some part of her hair. Elsewhere the cow was made to drink water in which an elf-stone had been washed. Another mode of relief, called the “ordeal of blood,” is prescribed in Scotland. Take some of the injured animal’s blood, mix with it a quantity of pins, and boil it, taking care to stir it as soon as it begins to boil. The door must be carefully locked, and everyone kept out of the secret, except the members of the family. Presently the witch who has done the evil will come to the house-door, and ask to be let in; but you must take care not to admit her, for if she enters she will murder everyone concerned in the ordeal. Instead of opening the door, you must insist on her promising to take off the spell, after which you may admit her freely.
The following account of elf-shooting in County Derry is furnished by my Irish correspondent. The elves, she says, are considered bad jealous sprites, who envy the peasants all their little comforts, and especially their rough mountain cows, with the milk and butter they yield. Therefore the elves delight to injure the milch-cows. At dead of night, it is firmly believed, an elf will often enter the byre, and shoot a small sharp stone,
- ↑ Elf-shooting is, in fact, an ancient Scandinavian superstition. In the Bandamanna Saga, an Icelandic account of a law-feud in the eleventh century, occurs the following passage: “That same autumn Hermund gathered a party and went on his way to Borg, intending to burn down the house with Egil in it. Now, as they came out under Valfell, they heard the chime of a bowstring up in the fell; and at the moment Hermund felt ill, and a sharp pain under his arms, so that they had to turn about, and the sickness gained on him. When they reached Thorgantsstede they had to lift him down from his horse, and they sent after the priest at Sidumuli. When he arrived Hermund could not speak, and the priest remained with him. After awhile his lips moved, and the priest bending over him heard him say, ‘Two hundred in the gill! Two hundred in the gill!’ and so muttering he died.”—(Bandamanna Saga, p. 41.) This is one of the earliest accounts of an elf-shot I know. In the old Norse ballad of “Sir Olaf,” the Ellmaid strikes the hunter on the heart, and he dies.—S. B. G.
