There was once a miller who lived with his wife in great contentment. They had money and land, and their prosperity increased year by year. But ill-luck came like a thief in the night. As their wealth had increased, so did it decrease, year by year, until the miller could hardly call the mill his own. He was in great distress and found no rest at night, tossing about in his bed, full of care.
One morning he rose before daybreak and went out into the open air. As he stepped over the mill-dam, the first sunbeam broke forth, and he heard a rippling sound in the pond. He turned and perceived a beautiful woman rising slowly out of the water. He soon saw that she was the Nix of the Mill-pond, and in his fright did not know whether to run or stay.
The nix called him by name and asked why he was so sad. The miller, hearing her kind voice, told her how he had formerly lived in wealth but was now poor. "Be easy," answered the nix, "I will make thee richer and happier than ever before, only thou must promise to give me the young thing which has just been born in thy house." The miller thought, "What else can that be but a puppy or kitten?" and promised. The nix descended into the water, and he hurried back, consoled.
He had not yet reached home when a maid-servant cried out that his wife had given birth to a boy. The miller stood as if struck by lightning; he saw that the cunning nix had cheated him. He told his wife of his promise. "Of what use are riches if I am to lose my child?" he lamented.
Prosperity returned to the miller's house. All he undertook succeeded, and his wealth grew greater than before. But the bargain tormented his soul. He feared the nix and never let his son go near the water. "Beware," he warned, "if thou dost but touch the water, a hand will rise and draw thee down." As years passed and the nix did not appear, the miller began to feel at ease.
The boy grew up, became an excellent huntsman, married a beautiful and true-hearted maiden from the village, and they lived happily.
One day, while chasing a roe, the huntsman found himself near the mill-pond. After cleaning his hands in the water, the nix ascended, smilingly wound her dripping arms around him, and drew him down under the waves.
When her husband did not return, his wife hastened to the pond, found his hunting-pouch, and knew the misfortune. She called his name in vain, reviled the nix, but received no answer. Exhausted by grief, she fell asleep by the pond and dreamed of an old woman in a cottage on a mountain.
Upon waking, she climbed the mountain and found everything as in her dream. The old woman gave her a golden comb and instructed her to comb her hair by the pond at full moon, then lay the comb on the bank.
The wife did so. A wave bore the comb away, and her husband's head arose from the water, looking at her sorrowfully before a second wave covered him. The dream led her back to the old woman, who then gave her a golden flute with similar instructions.
At the next full moon, she played the flute by the pond. A wave took it, and this time, half of her husband's body arose. He stretched his arms towards her before being drawn down again.
In despair, she visited the old woman a third time and received a golden spinning-wheel. At the full moon, she spun until the spool was full and placed the wheel by the water. A mighty wave carried it away, and her husband rose completely in a water-spout. He sprang to shore, caught her hand, and they fled.
But the whole pond rose with a frightful roar, flooding the land. In terror, the wife implored the old woman's help. Instantly, they were transformed—she into a toad, he into a frog. The flood tore them apart and carried them far away.
When the water dispersed and they regained human form, neither knew where the other was. High mountains and deep valleys lay between them. To survive, both became shepherds, tending flocks for many years, full of sorrow and longing.
One spring day, by chance, they drove their flocks to the same valley. They did not recognize each other but felt comforted by the company. One evening under the full moon, the shepherd played a sorrowful air on his flute. The shepherdess wept, saying the moon shone just so when she last played that air and saw her beloved's head rise from the water. He looked at her, and a veil seemed to fall from his eyes—he recognized his dear wife. She, too, knew him. They embraced and kissed, and no one need ask if they were happy.