Bokelskere.no

They cleared a thick stand of trees, then suddenly found themselves facing a large bald hillock. It rose to a height of twenty-five feet, dominating the clearing. Not a single plant save grasses grew on it, no tree or bush. 'A faerie mound!" said Gabbie with obvious delight, 'Erlkönighügel.' 'What?' 'Erlkönighügel. Erl King Hill, literally. Hill of the Elf King, in German; it's what Old Man Kessler's father called it. Erl King Hill is what the farm is officially called in the title deeds, though everyone hereabouts calls it the Old Kessler Place.' 'Far out. Is there a story?' Moving his horse in a lazy circle about the hill, Jack said, 'Usually is about such things. But I don't know any. Just that the locals have called this place the Fairy Woods since Pittsville was founded in 1820. I guess that's where Old Man Kessler's father got the notion when he showed up eighty-odd years ago. They've got faerie myths in Germany. Anyway, "Der Erlkönig" is a poem by Goethe. It's pretty scary stuff.' They left the hill behind and moved down a slight grade towards a path leading back to the farm. As they left, Gabbie cast a rearward glance at the hillock. For some reason she was left with the feeling the place was waiting. Brushing aside the strange notion, she turned her thoughts to how she was going to get Jack to call her again.