The Legend

According to an ancient legend, where the Seelaus Lodge now stands, there once lived a poor but honest farmer named Joch in a rickety shack. He was a sorry fellow who was constantly plagued with bad luck. If he led his livestock to the pastures, he could be sure that his most-prized animal would fall over a cliff. If he went to cut grass, he was sure to break his scythe on a stone, and so on and so forth. Although Joch was a very kind-hearted and clever fellow, nothing he did ever turned out right. One evening, he sat in his shack and had nothing to eat. Suddenly, the door of his shack opened, and a stranger came in wearing tall riding boots, grass-green clothing, and a long, curly feather stuck in his pointy hat. Joch bade the stranger welcome, but openly confessed that he would be unable to offer his guest anything to eat because he had nothing himself. "That's no problem," replied the stranger, who proceeded to unload a bag from his shoulder and take out a large portion of ham, a big chunk of bread, and several bottles of wine. He then invited the farmer to join him in his meal, and of course Joch instantly agreed. They ate and chatted sociably, in the course of which Joch complained to the generous stranger of his poverty and deprivations. "Well, if that's all the problem is," replied the stranger, "Perhaps I can be of help." He quickly reached into his bag and removed several dozen shiny gold coins.
"Heaven be praised!" cried Joch in astonishment. But he had only just spoken the words "Heaven" when the stranger let out a terrible yell and two horns suddenly appeared on his forehead - this was because the stranger was in fact the Devil. Upon seeing this, Joch was struck with not little fear, for he had already drunk the Devil's wine and eaten his food, so he continued chatting amiably with his guest. As good old Joch was finally in a really "relaxed" mood, the gentleman clad in green reached out and handed him a carefully penned contract and forced the poor soul to sign his name to it (by guiding his hand for him). The Evil One placed a hundred gold ducats on the table and left abruptly. But in the contract there was a provision that Joch must pay back the money within five years - otherwise, Old Scratch would come and take his soul instead at exactly midnight in ten years' time. On the next morning, after Joch had finally sobered up, he found the contract on his table together with the hundred ducats.

Five years passed. Joch had built himself a new house much better than his old shack, and had purchased a large herd of fine livestock. One evening, as he was sitting comfortably on his porch and smoking his pipe, the Devil came by and demanded his money back. "I'm not able to scratch together a hundred ducats," whined the farmer, "How can I procure the money without resorting to thievery?"
"That's alright with me," replied the Devil. "I'll come again in five years, but then I'll snatch your soul from your body and take it with me!" And with that, he departed.
Another five years passed. There were only a few days left, and Joch was plagued with anxiety and desperation. These days passed, too, and the last day was already upon him. Joch was beside himself with fear and apprehension. Joch was standing in the Spitzbühel Woods, cutting wood. Again and again, the seized upon some cunning and daring plan to save himself, only to abandon it once again as utterly hopeless. He sat deep in thought upon a tree stump. As no plan promising even the slightest chance of success presented itself to him, he stood up and turned to go home. Suddenly, he noticed that his axe was missing, and as he searched around for it, he spied a Nörgele (mountain dwarf) standing there holding his axe who quickly disappeared behind the next tree stump. The farmer chased after him, grabbed the dwarf by the collar, and shouted "You rascal, you! What were you trying to do with my axe, huh?" "I only needed it for a moment," replied the little man. "Then I will return it to you!"
"What do you need an axe for? I've heard tell that you mountain dwarves are so skilled and cunning. What could you possibly need an ordinary axe for?"
The Nörgele laughed and replied, "Indeed, we are skilled and cunning, but apparently there is no scarcity of Big Folk who let themselves be beguiled by the Devil and then are unable to escape their doom!"
"Oh, so that's the story," bellowed the farmer. "But you, yourself, would be just as lost and hopeless as I, no matter how clever you are!"
"Do you really think so?" retorted the dwarf. "Then let me clue you in on something: When the Devil intends to come and fetch a soul from a house, he writes the word 'soul' on the door so that he doesn't mistake it for the neighbor's house. The Devil is a very busy fellow, you know, and he is very forgetful. He writes the word 'soul' in lettering which only we Dwarves and children born on Sunday can read. That's why most people have never heard of this tradition of the Devil's."
"Heavens Above Us!" cried the farmer. "But what good does that do me? When Old Scratch comes to fetch my soul, he can write whatever he wants!"
„"But don't you realize?" replied the dwarf, " That could be your salvation! If you can't figure it out for yourself, then I suppose that I will have to help you - but then you must give me this axe as a present."
Upon hearing this, Joch's hopes were kindled, for he had heard much about the sly, cunning nature of dwarves, and he agreed to let the Little Man help him. The two made their way to Joch's house. Once there, the Dwarf fetched a piece of coal from the stove, walked out to the front door, had the farmer hold him up high, and wrote in large letters the word 'soul' above the lintel. The two allies then sat down to wait for Old Nick to show up. As evening broke, Joch was lying on his straw pallet, shivering with fear, while the Nörgele stood behind the front door and looked out the peep-hole. As the clock struck midnight, the Devil appeared. On his back he was carrying a large sack full of lost souls which he had collected. A few steps in front of the door, he stopped and called in a raspy voice:

"Ten long years have passed at last
Since I gave that gold to thee.
Your soul can now no longer last,
You must come to Hell with me."

And so the dwarf quickly replied through the keyhole:

"Yesterday you took my soul,
And already had your feast.
That's enough - leave me alone,
You most stupid devil beast."
The Devil was so perplexed by this reply and just couldn't believe that he had made a mistake, but as he came nearer and saw the words 'soul - away' above the lintel, he believed it and so went away.
In his joy at evading that terrible calamity, Jochen forgot to erase the words above his doorway, so that for a time, people who were born on Sunday could pass by his house and read and understand the words. And so that's why this building acquired the name 'Seelaus' (German: 'soul - away') - a name which it has retained up to the present day.

THE END