In the Lachtelweiher, not far from Kirchberg, a village in the valley of Masevaux, there dwells an evil spirit hostile to mankind, lurking in the deep bed of the water for some life-weary wanderer. It calls, whistles, sings, and lures so long that the unfortunate person, in despair, finally throws himself into the flood. Then the spirit raises a hellish laughter; the waves roar, foam, whirl in circles, and cast the body upon the gray granite sand of the shore.
Thereafter the poor souls must wander until the end of the world. But if someone were one day to cast a golden plate into the Lachtelweiher, the poor souls would be delivered once and for all.
