The legend of...
Grünhütl and Spitzhütl
In days of old, a heavy cart travelled from Lassing along the ore road towards Hollenstein. One day, a little man dressed in green and wearing a green hat stepped into the cart driver’s path and said: ‘If you are travelling to Hollenstein, then stop at Zwieselbruck, where the road leads into Seeau, and shout up at the rock face: Grünhütl sends his regards to Spitzhütl and says he’ll definitely be coming to the funeral the day after tomorrow, for a blacksmith has died: and at Zwieselbruck you’ll find your reward.’ With that, he vanished. The cart driver urged his horses on, and when he had passed the steaming torrents and reached the ruins at Zwieselbruck, he crossed himself and shouted with all his might up at the stone walls of the Gamsstein, repeating what the little man had told him. By now it had become pitch-black night, and the echo reverberated eerily off the walls. As he was about to go back to the cart, his foot knocked against a pot standing by the path. He reached inside and found it full of rusty horseshoes. Since a cart driver can always use such things, he took a handful and tucked them into his coat. As he drove on, he felt the pocket growing heavier and heavier. He reached in and saw ducats glinting in the moonlight in his hand. Now he was annoyed that he hadn’t taken all the horseshoes, so he turned his team around and drove back to Zwieselbruck. No matter how hard he tried and searched, the horseshoes remained missing, as did the castles in the air he had built for himself along the way.
