{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_31201/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_31201","id":"gutenberg_31201","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31201","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n THE\n BROWN FAIRY BOOK\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n Edited by Andrew Lang\n\n\n _With Numerous Illustrations by H. J. Ford_\n\n\n LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.\n 1904\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: 'YOU WILL HAVE TO MAKE ME YOUR WIFE,' SAID THE\n ELF-MAIDEN]\n\n\n\n\n DEDICATED\n TO\n DIANA SCOTT LANG\n\n\n\n\n_PREFACE_\n\n\nThe stories in this Fairy Book come from all quarters of the world.\nFor example, the adventures of 'Ball-Carrier and the Bad One' are told\nby Red Indian grandmothers to Red Indian children who never go to\nschool, nor see pen and ink. 'The Bunyip' is known to even more\nuneducated little ones, running about with no clothes at all in the\nbush, in Australia. You may see photographs of these merry little\nblack fellows before their troubles begin, in 'Northern Races of\nCentral Australia,' by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen. They have no\nlessons except in tracking and catching birds, beasts, fishes,\nlizards, and snakes, all of which they eat. But when they grow up to\nbe big boys and girls, they are cruelly cut about with stone knives\nand frightened with sham bogies--'all for their good' their parents\nsay--and I think they would rather go to school, if they had their\nchoice, and take their chance of being birched and bullied. However,\nmany boys might think it better fun to begin to learn hunting as soon\nas they can walk. Other stories, like 'The Sacred Milk of Koumongo\u00e9,'\ncome from the Kaffirs in Africa, whose dear papas are not so poor as\nthose in Australia, but have plenty of cattle and milk, and good\nmealies to eat, and live in houses like very big bee-hives, and wear\nclothes of a sort, though not very like our own. 'Pivi and Kabo' is a\ntale from the brown people in the island of New Caledonia, where a boy\nis never allowed to speak to or even look at his own sisters; nobody\nknows why, so curious are the manners of this remote island. The story\nshows the advantages of good manners and pleasant behaviour; and the\nnatives do not now cook and eat each other, but live on fish,\nvegetables, pork, and chickens, and dwell in houses. 'What the Rose\ndid to the Cypress' is a story from Persia, where the people, of\ncourse, are civilised, and much like those of whom you read in 'The\nArabian Nights.' Then there are tales like 'The Fox and the Lapp' from\nthe very north of Europe, where it is dark for half the year and\ndaylight for the other half. The Lapps are a people not fond of soap\nand water, and very much given to art magic. Then there are tales from\nIndia, told to Major Campbell, who wrote them out, by Hindoos; these\nstories are 'Wali D\u00e2d the Simple-hearted,' and 'The King who would be\nStronger than Fate,' but was not so clever as his daughter. From\nBrazil, in South America, comes 'The Tortoise and the Mischievous\nMonkey,' with the adventures of other animals. Other tales are told in\nvarious parts of Europe, and in many languages; but all people, black,\nwhite, brown, red, and yellow, are like each other when they tell\nstories; for these are meant for children, who like the same sort of\nthing, whether they go to school and wear clothes, or, on the other\nhand, wear skins of beasts, or even nothing at all, and live on grubs\nand lizards and hawks and crows and serpents, like the little\nAustralian blacks.\n\nThe tale of 'What the Rose did to the Cypress,' is translated out of a\nPersian manuscript by Mrs. Beveridge. 'Pivi and Kabo' is translated by\nthe Editor from a French version; 'Asmund and Signy' by Miss Blackley;\nthe Indian stories by Major Campbell, and all the rest are told by\nMrs. Lang, who does not give them exactly as they are told by all\nsorts of outlandish natives, but makes them up in the hope white\npeople will like them, skipping the pieces which they will not like.\nThat is how this Fairy Book was made up for your entertainment.\n\n\n\n\n_CONTENTS_\n\n\n PAGE\n\n _What the Rose did to the Cypress_ 1\n\n _Ball-Carrier and the Bad One_ 48\n\n _How Ball-Carrier finished his Task_ 59\n\n _The Bunyip_ 71\n\n _Father Grumbler_ 77\n\n _The Story of the Yara_ 88\n\n _The Cunning Hare_ 100\n\n _The Turtle and his Bride_ 106\n\n _How Geirald the Coward was Punished_ 114\n\n _H\u00e1bogi_ 126\n\n _How the Little Brother set Free his Big Brothers_ 134\n\n _The Sacred Milk of Koumongo\u00e9_ 143\n\n _The Wicked Wolverine_ 154\n\n _The Husband of the Rat's Daughter_ 161\n\n _The Mermaid and the Boy_ 165\n\n _Pivi and Kabo_ 183\n\n _The Elf Maiden_ 190\n\n _How Some Wild Animals became Tame Ones_ 197\n\n _Fortune and the Wood-Cutter_ 202\n\n _The Enchanted Head_ 205\n\n _The Sister of the Sun_ 215\n\n _The Prince and the Three Fates_ 233\n\n _The Fox and the Lapp_ 245\n\n _Kisa the Cat_ 256\n\n _The Lion and the Cat_ 263\n\n _Which was the Foolishest?_ 270\n\n _Asmund and Signy_ 275\n\n _R\u00fcbezahl_ 283\n\n _Story of the King who would be Stronger than Fate_ 300\n\n _Story of Wali D\u00e2d the Simple-hearted_ 315\n\n _Tale of a Tortoise and of a Mischievous Monkey_ 327\n\n _The Knights of the Fish_ 343\n\n\n\n\n_ILLUSTRATIONS_\n\n\n_COLOURED PLATES_\n\n _'You will have to make me your Wife,' said\n the Elf Maiden (p. 193)_ _Frontispiece_\n\n _Prince Alm\u00e2s Transformed_ _to face p._ 20\n\n _The Punishment of the Rose_ \" 36\n\n _H\u00e1bogi's Horses_ \" 128\n\n _'Listen, listen!' said the Mermaid to the\n Prince_ \" 178\n\n _The Princess and the Snake_ \" 238\n\n _R\u00fcbezahl and the Princess_ \" 290\n\n _The Dragon and the Mirror_ \" 346\n\n\n_FULL-PAGE PLATES_\n\n _The Deer eludes Prince Tahm\u00e2sp_ \" 2\n\n _Mihr-afr\u00fbz and Prince Tahm\u00e2sp_ \" 8\n\n _The Shadow in the Stream_ \" 14\n\n _Chil-m\u00e2q carries off Alm\u00e2s_ \" 28\n\n _The Death of the Bad One_ \" 54\n\n _The Witch outstrips the Wolf_ \" 60\n\n _'Wake up, my Grandson, it is time to go home'_ \" 64\n\n _The Bunyip_ \" 72\n\n _The Yara Defeated_ \" 94\n\n _The Little Hare is Caught_ \" 100\n\n _The Turtle Outwitted_ \" 110\n\n _Geirald claims his Reward and the Queen\n demands another Test_ \" 120\n\n _The Jealous Sisters spell-bound in the Ash-pit_ \" 130\n\n _The Mermaid asks for the King's Child_ \" 166\n\n _The Princess on the Seashore_ \" 172\n\n _The Bee, the Princess, the Red Knight, and the\n Lion_ \" 180\n\n _Pivi dives for the Shell-fish_ \" 186\n\n _The Princess sees the Magic Head_ \" 210\n\n _The Golden Hen will not be Caught_ \" 218\n\n _Signy at the Window_ \" 278\n\n _The Gnome falls in love with the Princess_ \" 284\n\n _Wali D\u00e2d and the Peris_ \" 322\n\n\n_IN TEXT_\n\n PAGE\n _Prince Alm\u00e2s brings Game to the King Lion_ 27\n\n _The Dog and his Attendants_ 39\n\n _The Boy in the Witch's Hut_ 49\n\n _The Magic Basket_ 79\n\n _The Wonderful Cock_ 83\n\n _The Holy Man gives the Bag to Father Grumbler_ 85\n\n _Julia sings her Song into the Shell_ 92\n\n _The Girl laughs at the Army of Turtles_ 108\n\n _'The Giant will trouble you no more,' said Geirald_ 119\n\n _Every Time a Bear was killed his Shadow returned to\n the House of the Great Bear Chief_ 135\n\n _How the Boys were half turned into Bears_ 138\n\n _'Why do you give to the Ogre your Child, so fair,\n so fair?'_ 146\n\n _'Bring to me Dilah, Dilah the Rejected One'_ 151\n\n _All the Animals try to get the Rock off Wolverine's\n Legs_ 155\n\n _The Elf Maiden's House_ 195\n\n _The King falls in Love with the Sister of the Sun_ 225\n\n _The Pool in the Sand_ 243\n\n _The Elves and the Bear_ 247\n\n _Kisa the Cat carries off Ingibj\u00f6rg's Feet from the\n Giant's Cave_ 260\n\n _The Princess steals the King's Letter_ 311\n\n\n\n\nTHE BROWN FAIRY BOOK\n\n\n\n\n_WHAT THE ROSE DID TO THE CYPRESS_[1]\n\n\nOnce upon a time a great king of the East, named Saman-l\u00e2l-p\u00f4sh,[2] had\nthree brave and clever sons--Tahm\u00e2sp, Qam\u00e2s, and Alm\u00e2s-ruh-bakhsh.[3]\nOne day, when the king was sitting in his hall of audience, his eldest\nson, Prince Tahm\u00e2sp, came before him, and after greeting his father with\ndue respect, said: 'O my royal father! I am tired of the town; if you\nwill give me leave, I will take my servants to-morrow and will go into\nthe country and hunt on the hill-skirts; and when I have taken some game\nI will come back, at evening-prayer time.' His father consented, and\nsent with him some of his own trusted servants, and also hawks, and\nfalcons, hunting dogs, cheetahs and leopards.\n\nAt the place where the prince intended to hunt he saw a most beautiful\ndeer. He ordered that it should not be killed, but trapped or captured\nwith a noose. The deer looked about for a place where he might escape\nfrom the ring of the beaters, and spied one unwatched close to the\nprince himself. It bounded high and leaped right over his head, got\nout of the ring, and tore like the eastern wind into the waste. The\nprince put spurs to his horse and pursued it; and was soon lost to the\nsight of his followers. Until the world-lighting sun stood above his\nhead in the zenith he did not take his eyes off the deer; suddenly it\ndisappeared behind some rising ground, and with all his search he\ncould not find any further trace of it. He was now drenched in sweat,\nand he breathed with pain; and his horse's tongue hung from its mouth\nwith thirst. He dismounted and toiled on, with bridle on arm, praying\nand casting himself on the mercy of heaven. Then his horse fell and\nsurrendered its life to God. On and on he went across the sandy waste,\nweeping and with burning breast, till at length a hill rose into\nsight. He mustered his strength and climbed to the top, and there he\nfound a giant tree whose foot kept firm the wrinkled earth, and whose\ncrest touched the very heaven. Its branches had put forth a glory of\nleaves, and there were grass and a spring underneath it, and flowers\nof many colours.\n\nGladdened by this sight, he dragged himself to the water's edge, drank\nhis fill, and returned thanks for his deliverance from thirst.\n\nHe looked about him and, to his amazement, saw close by a royal seat.\nWhile he was pondering what could have brought this into the merciless\ndesert, a man drew near who was dressed like a faq\u00eer, and had bare\nhead and feet, but walked with the free carriage of a person of rank.\nHis face was kind, and wise and thoughtful, and he came on and spoke\nto the prince.\n\n'O good youth! how did you come here? Who are you? Where do you come\nfrom?'\n\nThe prince told everything just as it had happened to him, and then\nrespectfully added: 'I have made known my own circumstances to you,\nand now I venture to beg you to tell me your own. Who are you? How did\nyou come to make your dwelling in this wilderness?'\n\nTo this the faq\u00eer replied: 'O youth! it would be best for you to have\nnothing to do with me and to know nothing of my fortunes, for my story\nis fit neither for telling nor for hearing.' The prince, however,\npleaded so hard to be told, that at last there was nothing to be\ndone but to let him hear.\n\n [Illustration: THE DEER ELUDES PRINCE TAHM\u00c2SP]\n\n'Learn and know, O young man! that I am King Jan\u00e2ng\u00eer[4] of Babylon,\nand that once I had army and servants, family and treasure; untold\nwealth and belongings. The Most High God gave me seven sons who grew\nup well versed in all princely arts. My eldest son heard from\ntravellers that in Turk\u00eest\u00e2n, on the Chinese frontier, there is a king\nnamed Quim\u00fbs, the son of T\u00eem\u00fbs, and that he has an only child, a\ndaughter named Mihr-afr\u00fbz,[5] who, under all the azure heaven, is\nunrivalled for beauty. Princes come from all quarters to ask her hand,\nand on one and all she imposes a condition. She says to them: \"I know\na riddle; and I will marry anyone who answers it, and will bestow on\nhim all my possessions. But if a suitor cannot answer my question I\ncut off his head and hang it on the battlements of the citadel.\" The\nriddle she asks is, \"What did the rose do to the cypress?\"\n\n'Now, when my son heard this tale, he fell in love with that unseen\ngirl, and he came to me lamenting and bewailing himself. Nothing that\nI could say had the slightest effect on him. I said: \"Oh my son! if\nthere must be fruit of this fancy of yours, I will lead forth a great\narmy against King Quim\u00fbs. If he will give you his daughter freely,\nwell and good; and if not, I will ravage his kingdom and bring her\naway by force.\" This plan did not please him; he said: \"It is not\nright to lay a kingdom waste and to destroy a palace so that I may\nattain my desire. I will go alone; I will answer the riddle, and win\nher in this way.\" At last, out of pity for him, I let him go. He\nreached the city of King Quim\u00fbs. He was asked the riddle and could not\ngive the true answer; and his head was cut off and hung upon the\nbattlements. Then I mourned him in black raiment for forty days.\n\n'After this another and another of my sons were seized by the same\ndesire, and in the end all my seven sons went, and all were killed. In\ngrief for their death I have abandoned my throne, and I abide here in\nthis desert, withholding my hand from all State business and wearing\nmyself away in sorrow.'\n\nPrince Tahm\u00e2sp listened to this tale, and then the arrow of love for\nthat unseen girl struck his heart also. Just at this moment of his\nill-fate his people came up, and gathered round him like moths round a\nlight. They brought him a horse, fleet as the breeze of the dawn; he\nset his willing foot in the stirrup of safety and rode off. As the\ndays went by the thorn of love rankled in his heart, and he became the\nvery example of lovers, and grew faint and feeble. At last his\nconfidants searched his heart and lifted the veil from the face of his\nlove, and then set the matter before his father, King Saman-l\u00e2l-p\u00f4sh.\n'Your son, Prince Tahm\u00e2sp, loves distractedly the Princess Mihr-afr\u00fbz,\ndaughter of King Quim\u00fbs, son of T\u00eem\u00fbs.' Then they told the king all\nabout her and her doings. A mist of sadness clouded the king's mind,\nand he said to his son: 'If this thing is so, I will in the first\nplace send a courier with friendly letters to King Quim\u00fbs, and will\nask the hand of his daughter for you. I will send an abundance of\ngifts, and a string of camels laden with flashing stones and rubies of\nBadakhsh\u00e2n. In this way I will bring her and her suite, and I will\ngive her to you to be your solace. But if King Quim\u00fbs is unwilling to\ngive her to you, I will pour a whirlwind of soldiers upon him, and I\nwill bring to you, in this way, that most consequential of girls.' But\nthe prince said that this plan would not be right, and that he would\ngo himself, and would answer the riddle. Then the king's wise men\nsaid: 'This is a very weighty matter; it would be best to allow the\nprince to set out accompanied by some persons in whom you have\nconfidence. Maybe he will repent and come back.' So King Saman ordered\nall preparations for the journey to be made, and then Prince Tahm\u00e2sp\ntook his leave and set out, accompanied by some of the courtiers, and\ntaking with him a string of two-humped and raven-eyed camels laden\nwith jewels, and gold, and costly stuffs.\n\nBy stage after stage, and after many days' journeying, he arrived at\nthe city of King Quim\u00fbs. What did he see? A towering citadel whose\nfoot kept firm the wrinkled earth, and whose battlements touched the\nblue heaven. He saw hanging from its battlements many heads, but it\nhad not the least effect upon him that these were heads of men of\nrank; he listened to no advice about laying aside his fancy, but rode\nup to the gate and on into the heart of the city. The place was so\nsplendid that the eyes of the ages have never seen its like, and\nthere, in an open square, he found a tent of crimson satin set up, and\nbeneath it two jewelled drums with jewelled sticks. These drums were\nput there so that the suitors of the princess might announce their\narrival by beating on them, after which some one would come and take\nthem to the king's presence. The sight of the drums stirred the fire\nof Prince Tahm\u00e2sp's love. He dismounted, and moved towards them; but\nhis companions hurried after and begged him first to let them go and\nannounce him to the king, and said that then, when they had put their\npossessions in a place of security, they would enter into the\nall-important matter of the princess. The prince, however, replied\nthat he was there for one thing only; that his first duty was to beat\nthe drums and announce himself as a suitor, when he would be taken, as\nsuch, to the king, who would then give him proper lodgment. So he\nstruck upon the drums, and at once summoned an officer who took him to\nKing Quim\u00fbs.\n\nWhen the king saw how very young the prince looked, and that he was\nstill drinking of the fountain of wonder, he said: 'O youth! leave\naside this fancy which my daughter has conceived in the pride of her\nbeauty. No one can answer her riddle, and she has done to death many\nmen who had had no pleasure in life nor tasted its charms. God forbid\nthat your spring also should be ravaged by the autumn winds of\nmartyrdom.' All his urgency, however, had no effect in making the\nprince withdraw. At length it was settled between them that three days\nshould be given to pleasant hospitality and that then should follow\nwhat had to be said and done. Then the prince went to his own quarters\nand was treated as became his station.\n\nKing Quim\u00fbs now sent for his daughter and for her mother, Gul-rukh,[6]\nand talked to them. He said to Mihr-afr\u00fbz: 'Listen to me, you cruel\nflirt! Why do you persist in this folly? Now there has come to ask\nyour hand a prince of the east, so handsome that the very sun grows\nmodest before the splendour of his face; he is rich, and he has\nbrought gold and jewels, all for you, if you will marry him. A better\nhusband you will not find.'\n\nBut all the arguments of father and mother were wasted, for her only\nanswer was: 'O my father! I have sworn to myself that I will not\nmarry, even if a thousand years go by, unless someone answers my\nriddle, and that I will give myself to that man only who does answer\nit.'\n\nThe three days passed; then the riddle was asked: 'What did the rose\ndo to the cypress?' The prince had an eloquent tongue, which could\nsplit a hair, and without hesitation he replied to her with a verse:\n'Only the Omnipotent has knowledge of secrets; if any man says, \"I\nknow\" do not believe him.'\n\nThen a servant fetched in the polluted, blue-eyed headsman, who asked:\n'Whose sun of life has come near its setting?' took the prince by the\narm, placed him upon the cloth of execution, and then, all merciless\nand stony-hearted, cut his head from his body and hung it on the\nbattlements.\n\n [Illustration: MIHR-AFR\u00dbZ & PRINCE TAHM\u00c2SP]\n\nThe news of the death of Prince Tahm\u00e2sp plunged his father into\ndespair and stupefaction. He mourned for him in black raiment for\nforty days; and then, a few days later, his second son, Prince Qam\u00e2s,\nextracted from him leave to go too; and he, also, was put to death.\nOne son only now remained, the brave, eloquent, happy-natured Prince\nAlm\u00e2s-ruh-bakhsh. One day, when his father sat brooding over his lost\nchildren, Alm\u00e2s came before him and said: 'O father mine! the daughter\nof King Quim\u00fbs has done my two brothers to death; I wish to avenge\nthem upon her.' These words brought his father to tears. 'O light of\nyour father!' he cried, 'I have no one left but you, and now you ask\nme to let you go to your death.'\n\n'Dear father!' pleaded the prince, 'until I have lowered the pride of\nthat beauty, and have set her here before you, I cannot settle down or\nindeed sit down off my feet.'\n\nIn the end he, too, got leave to go; but he went without a following\nand alone. Like his brothers, he made the long journey to the city of\nQuim\u00fbs the son of T\u00eem\u00fbs; like them he saw the citadel, but he saw\nthere the heads of Tahm\u00e2sp and Qam\u00e2s. He went about in the city, saw\nthe tent and the drums, and then went out again to a village not far\noff. Here he found out a very old man who had a wife 120 years old, or\nrather more. Their lives were coming to their end, but they had never\nbeheld face of child of their own. They were glad when the prince came\nto their house, and they dealt with him as with a son. He put all his\nbelongings into their charge, and fastened his horse in their\nout-house. Then he asked them not to speak of him to anyone, and to\nkeep his affairs secret. He exchanged his royal dress for another, and\nnext morning, just as the sun looked forth from its eastern oratory,\nhe went again into the city. He turned over in his mind without\nceasing how he was to find out the meaning of the riddle, and to give\nthem a right answer, and who could help him, and how to avenge his\nbrothers. He wandered about the city, but heard nothing of service,\nfor there was no one in all that land who understood the riddle of\nPrincess Mihr-afr\u00fbz.\n\nOne day he thought he would go to her own palace and see if he could\nlearn anything there, so he went out to her garden-house. It was a\nvery splendid place, with a wonderful gateway, and walls like\nAlexander's ramparts. Many gate-keepers were on guard, and there was\nno chance of passing them. His heart was full of bitterness, but he\nsaid to himself: 'All will be well! it is here I shall get what I\nwant.' He went round outside the garden wall hoping to find a gap, and\nhe made supplication in the Court of Supplications and prayed, 'O\nHolder of the hand of the helpless! show me my way.'\n\nWhile he prayed he bethought himself that he could get into the garden\nwith a stream of inflowing water. He looked carefully round, fearing\nto be seen, stripped, slid into the stream and was carried within the\ngreat walls. There he hid himself till his loin cloth was dry. The\ngarden was a very Eden, with running water amongst its lawns, with\nflowers and the lament of doves and the jug-jug of nightingales. It\nwas a place to steal the senses from the brain, and he wandered about\nand saw the house, but there seemed to be no one there. In the\nforecourt was a royal seat of polished jasper, and in the middle of\nthe platform was a basin of purest water that flashed like a mirror.\nHe pleased himself with these sights for a while, and then went back\nto the garden and hid himself from the gardeners and passed the night.\nNext morning he put on the appearance of a madman and wandered about\ntill he came to a lawn where several per\u00ee-faced girls were amusing\nthemselves. On a throne, jewelled and overspread with silken stuffs,\nsat a girl the splendour of whose beauty lighted up the place, and\nwhose ambergris and attar perfumed the whole air. 'That must be\nMihr-afr\u00fbz,' he thought, 'she is indeed lovely.' Just then one of the\nattendants came to the water's edge to fill a cup, and though the\nprince was in hiding, his face was reflected in the water. When she\nsaw this image she was frightened, and let her cup fall into the\nstream, and thought, 'Is it an angel, or a per\u00ee, or a man?' Fear and\ntrembling took hold of her, and she screamed as women scream. Then\nsome of the other girls came and took her to the princess who asked:\n'What is the matter, pretty one?'\n\n'O princess! I went for water, and I saw an image, and I was afraid.'\nSo another girl went to the water and saw the same thing, and came\nback with the same story. The princess wished to see for herself; she\nrose and paced to the spot with the march of a prancing peacock. When\nshe saw the image she said to her nurse: 'Find out who is reflected in\nthe water, and where he lives.' Her words reached the prince's ear, he\nlifted up his head; she saw him and beheld beauty such as she had\nnever seen before. She lost a hundred hearts to him, and signed to her\nnurse to bring him to her presence. The prince let himself be\npersuaded to go with the nurse, but when the princess questioned him\nas to who he was and how he had got into her garden, he behaved like a\nman out of his mind--sometimes smiling, sometimes crying, and saying:\n'I am hungry,' or words misplaced and random, civil mixed with the\nrude.\n\n'What a pity!' said the princess, 'he is mad!' As she liked him she\nsaid: 'He is my mad man; let no one hurt him.' She took him to her\nhouse and told him not to go away, for that she would provide for all\nhis wants. The prince thought, 'It would be excellent if here, in her\nvery house, I could get the answer to her riddle; but I must be\nsilent, on pain of death.'\n\nNow in the princess's household there was a girl called Dil-ar\u00e2m[7];\nshe it was who had first seen the image of the prince. She came to\nlove him very much, and she spent day and night thinking how she could\nmake her affection known to him. One day she escaped from the\nprincess's notice and went to the prince, and laid her head on his\nfeet and said: 'Heaven has bestowed on you beauty and charm. Tell me\nyour secret; who are you, and how did you come here? I love you very\nmuch, and if you would like to leave this place I will go with you. I\nhave wealth equal to the treasure of the miserly Qar\u00fbn.' But the\nprince only made answer like a man distraught, and told her nothing.\nHe said to himself, 'God forbid that the veil should be taken in vain\nfrom my secret; that would indeed disgrace me.' So, with streaming\neyes and burning breast, Dil-ar\u00e2m arose and went to her house and\nlamented and fretted.\n\nNow whenever the princess commanded the prince's attendance, Dil-ar\u00e2m,\nof all the girls, paid him attention and waited on him best. The\nprincess noticed this, and said: 'O Dil-ar\u00e2m! you must take my madman\ninto your charge and give him whatever he wants.' This was the very\nthing Dil-ar\u00e2m had prayed for. A little later she took the prince into\na private place and she made him take an oath of secrecy, and she\nherself took one and swore, 'By Heaven! I will not tell your secret.\nTell me all about yourself so that I may help you to get what you\nwant.' The prince now recognised in her words the perfume of true\nlove, and he made compact with her. 'O lovely girl! I want to know\nwhat the rose did to the cypress. Your mistress cuts off men's heads\nbecause of this riddle; what is at the bottom of it, and why does she\ndo it?' Then Dil-ar\u00e2m answered: 'If you will promise to marry me and\nto keep me always amongst those you favour, I will tell you all I\nknow, and I will keep watch about the riddle.'\n\n'O lovely girl,' rejoined he, 'if I accomplish my purpose, so that I\nneed no longer strive for it, I will keep my compact with you. When I\nhave this woman in my power and have avenged my brothers, I will make\nyou my solace.'\n\n [Illustration: THE SHADOW IN THE STREAM]\n\n'O wealth of my life and source of my joy!' responded Dil-ar\u00e2m, 'I\ndo not know what the rose did to the cypress; but so much I know that\nthe person who told Mihr-afr\u00fbz about it is a negro whom she hides\nunder her throne. He fled here from W\u00e2q of the Caucasus--it is there\nyou must make inquiry; there is no other way of getting at the truth.'\nOn hearing these words, the prince said to his heart, 'O my heart!\nyour task will yet wear away much of your life.'\n\nHe fell into long and far thought, and Dil-ar\u00e2m looked at him and\nsaid: 'O my life and my soul! do not be sad. If you would like this\nwoman killed, I will put poison into her cup so that she will never\nlift her head from her drugged sleep again.'\n\n'O Dil-ar\u00e2m! such a vengeance is not manly. I shall not rest till I\nhave gone to W\u00e2q of the Caucasus and have cleared up the matter.' Then\nthey repeated the agreement about their marriage, and bade one another\ngood-bye.\n\nThe prince now went back to the village, and told the old man that he\nwas setting out on a long journey, and begged him not to be anxious,\nand to keep safe the goods which had been entrusted to him.\n\nThe prince had not the least knowledge of the way to W\u00e2q of the\nCaucasus, and was cast down by the sense of his helplessness. He was\nwalking along by his horse's side when there appeared before him an\nold man of serene countenance, dressed in green and carrying a staff,\nwho resembled Khizr[8]. The prince thanked heaven, laid the hands of\nreverence on his breast and salaamed. The old man returned the\ngreeting graciously, and asked: 'How fare you? Whither are you bound?\nYou look like a traveller.'\n\n'O revered saint! I am in this difficulty: I do not know the way to\nW\u00e2q of the Caucasus.' The old man of good counsel looked at the young\nprince and said: 'Turn back from this dangerous undertaking. Do not\ngo; choose some other task! If you had a hundred lives you would not\nbring one out safe from this journey.' But his words had no effect on\nthe prince's resolve. 'What object have you,' the old man asked, 'in\nthus consuming your life?'\n\n'I have an important piece of business to do, and only this journey\nmakes it possible. I must go; I pray you, in God's name, tell me the\nway.'\n\nWhen the saint saw that the prince was not to be moved, he said:\n'Learn and know, O youth! that W\u00e2q of Q\u00e2f is in the Caucasus and is a\ndependency of it. In it there are jins, demons, and per\u00ees. You must go\non along this road till it forks into three; take neither the right\nhand nor the left, but the middle path. Follow this for a day and a\nnight. Then you will come to a column on which is a marble slab\ninscribed with Cufic characters. Do what is written there; beware of\ndisobedience.' Then he gave his good wishes for the journey and his\nblessing, and the prince kissed his feet, said good-bye, and, with\nthanks to the Causer of Causes, took the road.\n\nAfter a day and a night he saw the column rise in silent beauty to the\nheavens. Everything was as the wise old man had said it would be, and\nthe prince, who was skilled in all tongues, read the following Cufic\ninscription: 'O travellers! be it known to you that this column has\nbeen set up with its tablet to give true directions about these roads.\nIf a man would pass his life in ease and pleasantness, let him take\nthe right-hand path. If he take the left, he will have some trouble,\nbut he will reach his goal without much delay. Woe to him who chooses\nthe middle path! if he had a thousand lives he would not save one; it\nis very hazardous; it leads to the Caucasus, and is an endless road.\nBeware of it!'\n\nThe prince read and bared his head and lifted his hands in\nsupplication to Him who has no needs, and prayed, 'O Friend of the\ntraveller! I, Thy servant, come to Thee for succour. My purpose lies\nin the land of Q\u00e2f and my road is full of peril. Lead me by it.' Then\nhe took a handful of earth and cast it on his collar, and said: 'O\nearth! be thou my grave; and O vest! be thou my winding-sheet!' Then\nhe took the middle road and went along it, day after day, with many a\nsilent prayer, till he saw trees rise from the weary waste of sand.\nThey grew in a garden, and he went up to the gate and found it a slab\nof beautifully worked marble, and that near it there lay sleeping,\nwith his head on a stone, a negro whose face was so black that it made\ndarkness round him. His upper lip, arched like an eyebrow, curved\nupwards to his nostrils and his lower hung down like a camel's. Four\nmillstones formed his shield, and on a box-tree close by hung his\ngiant sword. His loin-cloth was fashioned of twelve skins of beasts,\nand was bound round his waist by a chain of which each link was as big\nas an elephant's thigh.\n\nThe prince approached and tied up his horse near the negro's head.\nThen he let fall the Bismill\u00e2h from his lips, entered the garden and\nwalked through it till he came to the private part, delighting in the\ngreat trees, the lovely verdure, and the flowery borders. In the inner\ngarden there were very many deer. These signed to him with eye and\nfoot to go back, for that this was enchanted ground; but he did not\nunderstand them, and thought their pretty gestures were a welcome.\nAfter a while he reached a palace which had a porch more splendid than\nC\u00e6sar's, and was built of gold and silver bricks. In its midst was a\nhigh seat, overlaid with fine carpets, and into it opened eight doors,\neach having opposite to it a marble basin.\n\nBanishing care, Prince Alm\u00e2s walked on through the garden, when\nsuddenly a window opened and a girl, who was lovely enough to make the\nmoon writhe with jealousy, put out her head. She lost her heart to the\ngood looks of the prince, and sent her nurse to fetch him so that she\nmight learn where he came from and how he had got into her private\ngarden where even lions and wolves did not venture. The nurse went,\nand was struck with amazement at the sun-like radiance of his face;\nshe salaamed and said: 'O youth! welcome! the lady of the garden calls\nyou; come!' He went with her and into a palace which was like a house\nin Paradise, and saw seated on the royal carpets of the throne a girl\nwhose brilliance shamed the shining sun. He salaamed; she rose, took\nhim by the hand and placed him near her. 'O young man! who are you?\nwhere do you come from? How did you get into this garden?' He told her\nhis story from beginning to end, and Lady Lat\u00eefa[9] replied: 'This is\nfolly! It will make you a vagabond of the earth, and lead you to\ndestruction. Come, cease such talk! No one can go to the Caucasus.\nStay with me and be thankful, for here is a throne which you can share\nwith me, and in my society you can enjoy my wealth. I will do whatever\nyou wish; I will bring here King Quim\u00fbs and his daughter, and you can\ndeal with them as you will.'\n\n'O Lady Lat\u00eefa,' he said, 'I have made a compact with heaven not to\nsit down off my feet till I have been to W\u00e2q of Q\u00e2f and have cleared\nup this matter, and have taken Mihr-afr\u00fbz from her father, as brave\nmen take, and have put her in prison. When I have done all this I will\ncome back to you in state and with a great following, and I will marry\nyou according to the law.' Lady Lat\u00eefa argued and urged her wishes,\nbut in vain; the prince was not to be moved. Then she called to the\ncupbearers for new wine, for she thought that when his head was hot\nwith it he might consent to stay. The pure, clear wine was brought;\nshe filled a cup and gave to him. He said: 'O most enchanting\nsweetheart! it is the rule for the host to drink first and then the\nguest.' So to make him lose his head, she drained the cup; then filled\nit again and gave him. He drank it off, and she took a lute from one\nof the singers and played upon it with skill which witched away the\nsense of all who heard. But it was all in vain; three days passed in\nsuch festivities, and on the fourth the prince said: 'O joy of my\neyes! I beg now that you will bid me farewell, for my way is long and\nthe fire of your love darts flame into the harvest of my heart. By\nheaven's grace I may accomplish my purpose, and, if so, I will come\nback to you.'\n\n [Illustration: PRINCE ALM\u00c2S TRANSFORMED]\n\nNow she saw that she could not in any way change his resolve, she told\nher nurse to bring a certain casket which contained, she said,\nsomething exhilarating which would help the prince on his journey. The\nbox was brought, and she divided off a portion of what was within and\ngave it to the prince to eat. Then, and while he was all unaware, she\nput forth her hand to a stick fashioned like a snake; she said some\nwords over it and struck him so sharply on the shoulder that he cried\nout; then he made a pirouette and found that he was a deer.\n\nWhen he knew what had been done to him he thought, 'All the threads of\naffliction are gathered together; I have lost my last chance!' He\ntried to escape, but the magician sent for her goldsmith, who, coming,\noverlaid the deer-horns with gold and jewels. The kerchief which that\nday she had had in her hand was then tied round its neck, and this\nfreed it from her attentions.\n\nThe prince-deer now bounded into the garden and at once sought some\nway of escape. It found none, and it joined the other deer, which soon\nmade it their leader. Now, although the prince had been transformed\ninto the form of a deer, he kept his man's heart and mind. He said to\nhimself, 'Thank heaven that the Lady Lat\u00eefa has changed me into this\nshape, for at least deer are beautiful.' He remained for some time\nliving as a deer amongst the rest, but at length resolved that an end\nto such a life must be put in some way. He looked again for some place\nby which he could get out of the magic garden. Following round the\nwall he reached a lower part; he remembered the Divine Names and flung\nhimself over, saying, 'Whatever happens is by the will of God.' When\nhe looked about he found that he was in the very same place he had\njumped from; there was the palace, there the garden and the deer!\nEight times he leaped over the wall and eight times found himself\nwhere he had started from; but after the ninth leap there was a\nchange, there was a palace and there was a garden, but the deer were\ngone.\n\nPresently a girl of such moon-like beauty opened a window that the\nprince lost to her a hundred hearts. She was delighted with the\nbeautiful deer, and cried to her nurse: 'Catch it! if you will I will\ngive you this necklace, every pearl of which is worth a kingdom.' The\nnurse coveted the pearls, but as she was three hundred years old she\ndid not know how she could catch a deer. However, she went down into\nthe garden and held out some grass, but when she went near the\ncreature ran away. The girl watched with great excitement from the\npalace window, and called: 'O nurse, if you don't catch it, I will\nkill you!' 'I am killing myself,' shouted back the old woman. The girl\nsaw that nurse tottering along and went down to help, marching with\nthe gait of a prancing peacock. When she saw the gilded horns and the\nkerchief she said: 'It must be accustomed to the hand, and be some\nroyal pet!' The prince had it in mind that this might be another\nmagician who could give him some other shape, but still it seemed best\nto allow himself to be caught. So he played about the girl and let her\ncatch him by the neck. A leash was brought, fruits were given, and it\nwas caressed with delight. It was taken to the palace and tied at the\nfoot of the Lady Jam\u00eela's raised seat, but she ordered a longer cord\nto be brought so that it might be able to jump up beside her.\n\nWhen the nurse went to fix the cord she saw tears falling from its\neyes, and that it was dejected and sorrowful. 'O Lady Jam\u00eela! this is\na wonderful deer, it is crying; I never saw a deer cry before.' Jam\u00eela\ndarted down like a flash of lightning, and saw that it was so. It\nrubbed its head on her feet and then shook it so sadly that the girl\ncried for sympathy. She patted it and said: 'Why are you sad, my\nheart? Why do you cry, my soul? Is it because I have caught you? I\nlove you better than my own life.' But, spite of her comforting, it\ncried the more. Then Jam\u00eela said: 'Unless I am mistaken, this is the\nwork of my wicked sister Lat\u00eefa, who by magic art turns servants of\nGod into beasts of the field.' At these words the deer uttered sounds,\nand laid its head on her feet. Then Jam\u00eela was sure it was a man, and\nsaid: 'Be comforted, I will restore you to your own shape.' She bathed\nherself and ordered the deer to be bathed, put on clean raiment,\ncalled for a box which stood in an alcove, opened it and gave a\nportion of what was in it to the deer to eat. Then she slipped her\nhand under her carpet and produced a stick to which she said\nsomething. She struck the deer hard, it pirouetted and became Prince\nAlm\u00e2s.\n\nThe broidered kerchief and the jewels lay upon the ground. The prince\nprostrated himself in thanks to heaven and Jam\u00eela, and said: 'O\ndelicious person! O Chinese Venus! how shall I excuse myself for\ngiving you so much trouble? With what words can I thank you?' Then she\ncalled for a clothes-wallet and chose out a royal dress of honour. Her\nattendants dressed him in it, and brought him again before the\ntender-hearted lady. She turned to him a hundred hearts, took his hand\nand seated him beside her, and said: 'O youth! tell me truly who you\nare and where you come from, and how you fell into the power of my\nsister.'\n\nEven when he was a deer the prince had much admired Jam\u00eela; now he\nthought her a thousand times more lovely than before. He judged that\nin truth alone was safety, and so told her his whole story. Then she\nasked: 'O Prince Alm\u00e2s-ruh-bakhsh, do you still wish so much to make\nthis journey to W\u00e2q of Q\u00e2f? What hope is there in it? The road is\ndangerous even near here, and this is not yet the borderland of the\nCaucasus. Come, give it up! It is a great risk, and to go is not wise.\nIt would be a pity for a man like you to fall into the hands of jins\nand demons. Stay with me, and I will do whatever you wish.'\n\n'O most delicious person!' he answered, 'you are very generous, and\nthe choice of my life lies in truth in your hands; but I beg one\nfavour of you. If you love me, so do I too love you. If you really\nlove me, do not forbid me to make this journey, but help me as far as\nyou can. Then it may be that I shall succeed, and if I return with my\npurpose fulfilled I will marry you according to the law, and take you\nto my own country, and we will spend the rest of our lives together in\npleasure and good companionship. Help me, if you can, and give me your\ncounsel.'\n\n'O very stuff of my life,' replied Jam\u00eela, 'I will give you things\nthat are not in kings' treasuries, and which will be of the greatest\nuse to you. First, there are the bow and arrows of his Reverence the\nProphet Salih. Secondly, there is the Scorpion of Solomon (on whom be\npeace), which is a sword such as no king has; steel and stone are one\nto it; if you bring it down on a rock it will not be injured, and it\nwill cleave whatever you strike. Thirdly, there is the dagger which\nthe sage T\u00eem\u00fbs himself made; this is most useful, and the man who\nwears it would not bend under seven camels' loads. What you have to do\nfirst is to get to the home of the S\u00eemurgh[10], and to make friends\nwith him. If he favours you, he will take you to W\u00e2q of Q\u00e2f; if not,\nyou will never get there, for seven seas are on the way, and they are\nsuch seas that if all the kings of the earth, and all their vaz\u00eers,\nand all their wise men considered for a thousand years, they would\nnot be able to cross them.'\n\n'O most delicious person! where is the S\u00eemurgh's home? How shall I get\nthere?'\n\n'O new fruit of life! you must just do what I tell you, and you must\nuse your eyes and your brains, for if you don't you will find yourself\nat the place of the negroes, who are a bloodthirsty set; and God\nforbid they should lay hands on your precious person.'\n\nThen she took the bow and quiver of arrows, the sword, and the dagger\nout of a box, and the prince let fall a _Bismill\u00e2h_, and girt them all\non. Then Jam\u00eela of the houri-face, produced two saddle-bags of\nruby-red silk, one filled with roasted fowl and little cakes, and the\nother with stones of price. Next she gave him a horse as swift as the\nbreeze of the morning, and she said: 'Accept all these things from me;\nride till you come to a rising ground, at no great distance from here,\nwhere there is a spring. It is called the Place of Gifts, and you must\nstay there one night. There you will see many wild beasts--lions,\ntigers, leopards, apes, and so on. Before you get there you must\ncapture some game. On the long road beyond there dwells a lion-king,\nand if other beasts did not fear him they would ravage the whole\ncountry and let no one pass. The lion is a red transgressor, so when\nhe comes rise and do him reverence; take a cloth and rub the dust and\nearth from his face, then set the game you have taken before him, well\ncleansed, and lay the hands of respect on your breast. When he wishes\nto eat, take your knife and cut pieces of the meat and set them before\nhim with a bow. In this way you will enfold that lion-king in perfect\nfriendship, and he will be most useful to you, and you will be safe\nfrom molestation by the negroes. When you go on from the Place of\nGifts, be sure you do not take the right-hand road; take the left, for\nthe other leads by the negro castle, which is known as the Place of\nClashing Swords, and where there are forty negro captains each over\nthree thousand or four thousand more. Their chief is Taram-t\u00e2q.[11]\nFurther on than this is the home of the S\u00eemurgh.'\n\nHaving stored these things in the prince's memory, she said: 'You will\nsee everything happen just as I have said.' Then she escorted him a\nlittle way; they parted, and she went home to mourn his absence.\n\nPrince Alm\u00e2s, relying on the Causer of Causes, rode on to the Place of\nGifts and dismounted at the platform. Everything happened just as\nJam\u00eela had foretold; when one or two watches of the night had passed,\nhe saw that the open ground around him was full of such stately and\nsplendid animals as he had never seen before. By-and-by, they made way\nfor a wonderfully big lion, which was eighty yards from nose to\ntail-tip, and was a magnificent creature. The prince advanced and\nsaluted it; it proudly drooped its head and forelocks and paced to the\nplatform. Seventy or eighty others were with it, and now encircled it\nat a little distance. It laid its right paw over its left, and the\nprince took the kerchief Jam\u00eela had given him for the purpose, and\nrubbed the dust and earth from its face; then brought forward the game\nhe had prepared, and crossing his hands respectfully on his breast\nstood waiting before it. When it wished for food he cut off pieces of\nthe meat and put them in its mouth. The serving lions also came near\nand the prince would have stayed his hand, but the king-lion signed to\nhim to feed them too. This he did, laying the meat on the platform.\nThen the king-lion beckoned the prince to come near and said: 'Sleep\nat ease; my guards will watch.' So, surrounded by the lion-guard, he\nslept till dawn, when the king-lion said good-bye, and gave him a few\nof his own hairs and said: 'When you are in any difficulty, burn one\nof these and I will be there.' Then it went off into the jungle.\n\n [Illustration: PRINCE ALM\u00c2S BRINGS GAME TO THE KING LION]\n\nPrince Alm\u00e2s immediately started; he rode till he came to the parting\nof the ways. He remembered quite well that the right-hand way was\nshort and dangerous, but he bethought himself too that whatever was\nwritten on his forehead would happen, and took the forbidden road.\nBy-and-by he saw a castle, and knew from what Jam\u00eela had told him that\nit was the Place of Clashing Swords. He would have liked to go back\nby the way he had come, but courage forbade, and he said, 'What has\nbeen preordained from eternity will happen to me,' and went on towards\nthe castle. He was thinking of tying his horse to a tree which grew\nnear the gate when a negro came out and spied him. 'Ha!' said the\nwretch to himself, 'this is good; Taram-t\u00e2q has not eaten man-meat for\na long time, and is craving for some. I will take this creature to\nhim.' He took hold of the prince's reins, and said: 'Dismount,\nman-child! Come to my master. He has wanted to eat man-meat this long\ntime back.' 'What nonsense are you saying?' said the prince, and other\nsuch words. When the negro understood that he was being abused, he\ncried: 'Come along! I will put you into such a state that the birds of\nthe air will weep for you.' Then the prince drew the Scorpion of\nSolomon and struck him--struck him on the leathern belt and shore him\nthrough so that the sword came out on the other side. He stood upright\nfor a little while, muttered some words, put out his hand to seize the\nprince, then fell in two and surrendered his life.\n\nThere was water close at hand, and the prince made his ablution, and\nthen said: 'O my heart! a wonderful task lies upon you.' A second\nnegro came out of the fort, and seeing what had been done, went back\nand told his chief. Others wished to be doubled, and went out, and of\nevery one the Scorpion of Solomon made two. Then Taram-t\u00e2q sent for a\ngiant negro named Chil-m\u00e2q, who in the day of battle was worth three\nhundred, and said to him: 'I shall thank you to fetch me that man.'\n\nChil-m\u00e2q went out, tall as a tower, and bearing a shield of eight\nmillstones, and as he walked he shouted: 'Ho! blunder-head! by what\nright do you come to our country and kill our people? Come! make two\nof me.' As the prince was despicable in his eyes, he tossed aside his\nclub and rushed to grip him with his hands. He caught him by the\ncollar, tucked him under his arm and set off with him to Taram-t\u00e2q.\nBut the prince drew the dagger of T\u00eem\u00fbs and thrust it upwards through\nthe giant's arm-pit, for its full length. This made Chil-m\u00e2q drop him\nand try to pick up his club; but when he stooped the mighty sword\nshore him through at the waist.\n\n [Illustration: CHIL-M\u00c2Q CARRIES OFF ALM\u00c2S]\n\nWhen news of his champion's death reached Taram-t\u00e2q he put himself at\nthe head of an army of his negroes and led them forth. Many fell\nbefore the magic sword, and the prince laboured on in spite of\nweakness and fatigue till he was almost worn out. In a moment of\nrespite from attack he struck his fire-steel and burned a hair of the\nking-lion; and he had just succeeded in this when the negroes charged\nagain and all but took him prisoner. Suddenly from behind the distant\nveil of the desert appeared an army of lions led by their king. 'What\nbrings these scourges of heaven here?' cried the negroes. They came\nroaring up, and put fresh life into the prince. He fought on, and when\nhe struck on a belt the wearer fell in two, and when on a head he\ncleft to the waist. Then the ten thousand mighty lions joined the fray\nand tore in pieces man and horse.\n\nTaram-t\u00e2q was left alone; he would have retired into his fort, but the\nprince shouted: 'Whither away, accursed one? Are you fleeing before\nme?' At these defiant words the chief shouted back, 'Welcome, man!\nCome here and I will soften you to wax beneath my club.' Then he\nhurled his club at the prince's head, but it fell harmless because the\nprince had quickly spurred his horse forward. The chief, believing he\nhad hit him, was looking down for him, when all at once he came up\nbehind and cleft him to the waist and sent him straight to hell.\n\nThe king-lion greatly praised the dashing courage of Prince Alm\u00e2s.\nThey went together into the Castle of Clashing Swords and found it\nadorned and fitted in princely fashion. In it was a daughter of\nTaram-t\u00e2q, still a child. She sent a message to Prince Alm\u00e2s saying,\n'O king of the world! choose this slave to be your handmaid. Keep her\nwith you; where you go, there she will go!' He sent for her and she\nkissed his feet and received the Mussulman faith at his hands. He told\nher he was going a long journey on important business, and that when\nhe came back he would take her and her possessions to his own country,\nbut that for the present she must stay in the castle. Then he made\nover the fort and all that was in it to the care of the lion, saying:\n'Guard them, brother! let no one lay a hand on them.' He said\ngood-bye, chose a fresh horse from the chief's stable and once again\ntook the road.\n\nAfter travelling many stages and for many days, he reached a plain of\nmarvellous beauty and refreshment. It was carpeted with\nflowers--roses, tulips, and clover; it had lovely lawns, and amongst\nthem running water. This choicest place of earth filled him with\nwonder. There was a tree such as he had never seen before; its\nbranches were alike, but it bore flowers and fruit of a thousand\nkinds. Near it a reservoir had been fashioned of four sorts of\nstone--touchstone, pure stone, marble, and loadstone. In and out of it\nflowed water like attar. The prince felt sure this must be the place\nof the S\u00eemurgh; he dismounted, turned his horse loose to graze, ate\nsome of the food Jam\u00eela had given him, drank of the stream and lay\ndown to sleep.\n\nHe was still dozing when he was aroused by the neighing and pawing of\nhis horse. When he could see clearly he made out a mountain-like\ndragon whose heavy breast crushed the stones beneath it into putty. He\nremembered the Thousand Names of God and took the bow of Salih from\nits case and three arrows from their quiver. He bound the dagger of\nT\u00eem\u00fbs firmly to his waist and hung the Scorpion of Solomon round his\nneck. Then he set an arrow on the string and released it with such\nforce that it went in at the monster's eye right up to the notch. The\ndragon writhed on itself, and belched forth an evil vapour, and beat\nthe ground with its head till the earth quaked. Then the prince took a\nsecond arrow and shot into its throat. It drew in its breath and would\nhave sucked the prince into its maw, but when he was within striking\ndistance he drew his sword and, having committed himself to God,\nstruck a mighty blow which cut the creature's neck down to the gullet.\nThe foul vapour of the beast and horror at its strangeness now\novercame the prince, and he fainted. When he came to himself he found\nthat he was drenched in the gore of the dead monster. He rose and\nthanked God for his deliverance.\n\nThe nest of the S\u00eemurgh was in the wonderful tree above him, and in it\nwere young birds; the parents were away searching for food. They\nalways told the children, before they left them, not to put their\nheads out of the nest; but, to-day, at the noise of the fight below,\nthey looked down and so saw the whole affair. By the time the dragon\nhad been killed they were very hungry and set up a clamour for food.\nThe prince therefore cut up the dragon and fed them with it, bit by\nbit, till they had eaten the whole. He then washed himself and lay\ndown to rest, and he was still asleep when the S\u00eemurgh came home. As a\nrule, the young birds raised a clamour of welcome when their parents\ncame near, but on this day they were so full of dragon-meat that they\nhad no choice, they had to go to sleep.\n\nAs they flew nearer, the old birds saw the prince lying under the tree\nand no sign of life in the nest. They thought that the misfortune\nwhich for so many earlier years had befallen them had again happened\nand that their nestlings had disappeared. They had never been able to\nfind out the murderer, and now suspected the prince. 'He has eaten our\nchildren and sleeps after it; he must die,' said the father-bird, and\nflew back to the hills and clawed up a huge stone which he meant to\nlet fall on the prince's head. But his mate said, 'Let us look into\nthe nest first for to kill an innocent person would condemn us at the\nDay of Resurrection.' They flew nearer, and presently the young birds\nwoke and cried, 'Mother, what have you brought for us?' and they told\nthe whole story of the fight, and of how they were alive only by the\nfavour of the young man under the tree, and of his cutting up the\ndragon and of their eating it. The mother-bird then remarked, 'Truly,\nfather! you were about to do a strange thing, and a terrible sin has\nbeen averted from you.' Then the S\u00eemurgh flew off to a distance with\nthe great stone and dropped it. It sank down to the very middle of the\nearth.\n\nComing back, the S\u00eemurgh saw that a little sunshine fell upon the\nprince through the leaves, and it spread its wings and shaded him till\nhe woke. When he got up he salaamed to it, who returned his greeting\nwith joy and gratitude, and caressed him and said: 'O youth, tell me\ntrue! who are you, and where are you going? And how did you cross that\npitiless desert where never yet foot of man had trod?' The prince told\nhis story from beginning to end, and finished by saying: 'Now it is my\nheart's wish that you should help me to get to W\u00e2q of the Caucasus.\nPerhaps, by your favour, I shall accomplish my task and avenge my\nbrothers.' In reply the S\u00eemurgh first blessed the deliverer of his\nchildren, and then went on: 'What you have done no child of man has\never done before; you assuredly have a claim on all my help, for every\nyear up till now that dragon has come here and has destroyed my\nnestlings, and I have never been able to find who was the murderer and\nto avenge myself. By God's grace you have removed my children's\npowerful foe. I regard you as a child of my own. Stay with me; I will\ngive you everything you desire, and I will establish a city here for\nyou, and will furnish it with every requisite; I will give you the\nland of the Caucasus, and will make its princes subject to you. Give\nup the journey to W\u00e2q, it is full of risk, and the jins there will\ncertainly kill you.' But nothing could move the prince, and seeing\nthis the bird went on: 'Well, so be it! When you wish to set forth you\nmust go into the plain and take seven head of deer, and must make\nwater-tight bags of their hides and keep their flesh in seven\nportions. Seven seas lie on our way--I will carry you over them; but\nif I have not food and drink we shall fall into the sea and be\ndrowned. When I ask for it you must put food and water into my mouth.\nSo we shall make the journey safely.'\n\nThe prince did all as he was told, then they took flight; they crossed\nthe seven seas, and at each one the prince fed the S\u00eemurgh. When they\nalighted on the shore of the last sea, it said: 'O my son! there lies\nyour road; follow it to the city. Take thee three feathers of mine,\nand, if you are in a difficulty, burn one and I will be with you in\nthe twinkling of an eye.'\n\nThe prince walked on in solitude till he reached the city. He went in\nand wandered about through all quarters, and through bazaars and lanes\nand squares, in the least knowing from whom he could ask information\nabout the riddle of Mihr-afr\u00fbz. He spent seven days thinking it over\nin silence. From the first day of his coming he had made friends with\na young cloth-merchant, and a great liking had sprung up between them.\nOne day he said abruptly to his companion: 'O dear friend! I wish you\nwould tell me what the rose did to the cypress, and what the sense of\nthe riddle is.' The merchant started, and exclaimed: 'If there were\nnot brotherly affection between us, I would cut off your head for\nasking me this!' 'If you meant to kill me,' retorted the prince, 'you\nwould still have first to tell me what I want to know.' When the\nmerchant saw that the prince was in deadly earnest, he said: 'If you\nwish to hear the truth of the matter you must wait upon our king.\nThere is no other way; no one else will tell you. I have a well-wisher\nat the Court, named Farr\u00fbkh-f\u00e2l,[12] and will introduce you to him.'\n'That would be excellent,' cried the prince. A meeting was arranged\nbetween Farr\u00fbkh-f\u00e2l and Alm\u00e2s, and then the am\u00eer took him to the\nking's presence and introduced him as a stranger and traveller who had\ncome from afar to sit in the shadow of King Sinaubar.\n\nNow the S\u00eemurgh had given the prince a diamond weighing thirty\nmisq\u00e2ls, and he offered this to the king, who at once recognised its\nvalue, and asked where it had been obtained. 'I, your slave, once had\nriches and state and power; there are many such stones in my country.\nOn my way here I was plundered at the Castle of Clashing Swords, and I\nsaved this one thing only, hidden in my bathing-cloth.' In return for\nthe diamond, King Sinaubar showered gifts of much greater value, for\nhe remembered that it was the last possession of the prince. He showed\nthe utmost kindness and hospitality, and gave his vaz\u00eer orders to\ninstal the prince in the royal guest-house. He took much pleasure in\nhis visitor's society; they were together every day and spent the time\nmost pleasantly. Several times the king said: 'Ask me for something,\nthat I may give it you.' One day he so pressed to know what would\npleasure the prince, that the latter said: 'I have only one wish, and\nthat I will name to you in private.' The king at once commanded every\none to withdraw, and then Prince Alm\u00e2s said: 'The desire of my life is\nto know what the rose did to the cypress, and what meaning there is in\nthe words.' The king was astounded. 'In God's name! if anyone else had\nsaid that to me I should have cut off his head instantly.' The prince\nheard this in silence, and presently so beguiled the king with\npleasant talk that to kill him was impossible.\n\n [Illustration: THE PUNISHMENT OF THE ROSE]\n\nTime flew by, the king again and again begged the prince to ask some\ngift of him, and always received this same reply: 'I wish for your\nMajesty's welfare, what more can I desire?' One night there was a\nbanquet, and cupbearers carried round gold and silver cups of\nsparkling wine, and singers with sweetest voices contended for the\nprize. The prince drank from the king's own cup, and when his head was\nhot with wine he took a lute from one of the musicians and placed\nhimself on the carpet-border and sang and sang till he witched away\nthe sense of all who listened. Applause and compliments rang from\nevery side. The king filled his cup and called the prince and gave it\nto him and said: 'Name your wish! it is yours.' The prince drained off\nthe wine and answered: 'O king of the world! learn and know that I\nhave only one aim in life, and this is to know what the rose did to\nthe cypress.'\n\n'Never yet,' replied the king, 'has any man come out from that\nquestion alive. If this is your only wish, so be it; I will tell you.\nBut I will do this on one condition only, namely, that when you have\nheard you will submit yourself to death.' To this the prince agreed,\nand said: 'I set my foot firmly on this compact.'\n\nThe king then gave an order to an attendant; a costly carpet overlaid\nwith European velvet was placed near him, and a dog was led in by a\ngolden and jewelled chain and set upon the splendid stuffs. A band of\nfair girls came in and stood round it in waiting.\n\nThen, with ill words, twelve negroes dragged in a lovely woman,\nfettered on hands and feet and meanly dressed, and they set her down\non the bare floor. She was extraordinarily beautiful, and shamed the\nglorious sun. The king ordered a hundred stripes to be laid on her\ntender body; she sighed a long sigh. Food was called for and\ntable-cloths were spread. Delicate meats were set before the dog, and\nwater given it in a royal cup of Chinese crystal. When it had eaten\nits fill, its leavings were placed before the lovely woman and she was\nmade to eat of them. She wept and her tears were pearls; she smiled\nand her lips shed roses. Pearls and flowers were gathered up and taken\nto the treasury.\n\n'Now,' said the king, 'you have seen these things and your purpose is\nfulfilled.' 'Truly,' said the prince, 'I have seen things which I have\nnot understood; what do they mean, and what is the story of them? Tell\nme and kill me.'\n\nThen said the king: 'The woman you see there in chains is my wife; she\nis called Gul, the Rose, and I am Sinaubar, the Cypress. One day I was\nhunting and became very thirsty. After great search I discovered a\nwell in a place so secret that neither bird nor beast nor man could\nfind it without labour. I was alone, I took my turban for a rope and\nmy cap for a bucket. There was a good deal of water, but when I let\ndown my rope, something caught it, and I could not in any way draw it\nback. I shouted down into the well: \"O! servant of God! whoever you\nare, why do you deal unfairly with me? I am dying of thirst, let go!\nin God's name.\" A cry came up in answer, \"O servant of God! we have\nbeen in the well a long time; in God's name get us out!\" After trying\na thousand schemes, I drew up two blind women. They said they were\nper\u00ees, and that their king had blinded them in his anger and had left\nthem in the well alone.\n\n'\"Now,\" they said, \"if you will get us the cure for our blindness we\nwill devote ourselves to your service, and will do whatever you wish.\"\n\n'\"What is the cure for your blindness?\"\n\n'\"Not far from this place,\" they said, \"a cow comes up from the great\nsea to graze; a little of her dung would cure us. We should be\neternally your debtors. Do not let the cow see you, or she will\nassuredly kill you.\"\n\n'With renewed strength and spirit I went to the shore. There I watched\nthe cow come up from the sea, graze, and go back. Then I came out of\nmy hiding, took a little of her dung and conveyed it to the per\u00ees.\nThey rubbed it on their eyes, and by the Divine might saw again.\n\n [Illustration: THE DOG & HIS ATTENDANTS]\n\n'They thanked heaven and me, and then considered what they could do to\nshow their gratitude to me. \"Our per\u00ee-king,\" they said, \"has a\ndaughter whom he keeps under his own eye and thinks the most lovely\ngirl on earth. In good sooth, she has not her equal! Now we will get\nyou into her house and you must win her heart, and if she has an\ninclination for another, you must drive it out and win her for\nyourself. Her mother loves her so dearly that she has no ease but in\nher presence, and she will give her to no one in marriage. Teach her\nto love you so that she cannot exist without you. But if the matter\nbecomes known to her mother she will have you burned in the fire. Then\nyou must beg, as a last favour, that your body may be anointed with\noil so that you may burn the more quickly and be spared torture. If\nthe per\u00ee-king allows this favour, we two will manage to be your\nanointers, and we will put an oil on you such that if you were a\nthousand years in the fire not a trace of burning would remain.\"\n\n'In the end the two per\u00ees took me to the girl's house. I saw her\nsleeping daintily. She was most lovely, and I was so amazed at the\nperfection of her beauty that I stood with senses lost, and did not\nknow if she were real or a dream. When at last I saw that she was a\nreal girl, I returned thanks that I, the runner, had come to my goal,\nand that I, the seeker, had found my treasure.\n\n'When the per\u00ee opened her eyes she asked in affright: \"Who are you?\nHave you come to steal? How did you get here? Be quick! save yourself\nfrom this whirlpool of destruction, for the demons and per\u00ees who guard\nme will wake and seize you.\"\n\n'But love's arrow had struck me deep, and the girl, too, looked kindly\non me. I could not go away. For some months I remained hidden in her\nhouse. We did not dare to let her mother know of our love. Sometimes\nthe girl was very sad and fearful lest her mother should come to know.\nOne day her father said to her: \"Sweetheart, for some time I have\nnoticed that your beauty is not what it was. How is this? Has sickness\ntouched you? Tell me that I may seek a cure.\" Alas! there was now no\nway of concealing the mingled delight and anguish of our love; from\nsecret it became known. I was put in prison and the world grew dark to\nmy rose, bereft of her lover.\n\n'The per\u00ee-king ordered me to be burnt, and said: \"Why have you, a man,\ndone this perfidious thing in my house?\" His demons and per\u00ees\ncollected ambar-wood and made a pile, and would have set me on it,\nwhen I remembered the word of life which the two per\u00ees I had rescued\nhad breathed into my ear, and I asked that my body might be rubbed\nwith oil to release me the sooner from torture. This was allowed, and\nthose two contrived to be the anointers. I was put into the fire and\nit was kept up for seven days and nights. By the will of the Great\nKing it left no trace upon me. At the end of a week the per\u00ee-king\nordered the ashes to be cast upon the dust-heap, and I was found alive\nand unharmed.\n\n'Per\u00ees who had seen Gul consumed by her love for me now interceded\nwith the king, and said: \"It is clear that your daughter's fortunes\nare bound up with his, for the fire has not hurt him. It is best to\ngive him the girl, for they love one another. He is King of W\u00e2q of\nQ\u00e2f, and you will find none better.\"\n\n'To this the king agreed, and made formal marriage between Gul and me.\nYou now know the price I paid for this faithless creature. O prince!\nremember our compact.'\n\n'I remember,' said the prince; 'but tell me what brought Queen Gul to\nher present pass?'\n\n'One night,' continued King Sinaubar, 'I was aroused by feeling Gul's\nhands and feet, deadly cold, against my body. I asked her where she\nhad been to get so cold, and she said she had had to go out. Next\nmorning, when I went to my stable I saw that two of my horses,\nWindfoot and Tiger, were thin and worn out. I reprimanded the groom\nand beat him. He asked where his fault lay, and said that every night\nmy wife took one or other of these horses and rode away, and came back\nonly just before dawn. A flame kindled in my heart, and I asked myself\nwhere she could go and what she could do. I told the groom to be\nsilent, and when next Gul took a horse from the stable to saddle\nanother quickly and bring it to me. That day I did not hunt, but\nstayed at home to follow the matter up. I lay down as usual at night\nand pretended to fall asleep. When I seemed safely off, Gul got up and\nwent to the stable as her custom was. That night it was Tiger's turn.\nShe rode off on him, and I took Windfoot and followed. With me went\nthat dog you see, a faithful friend who never left me.\n\n'When I came to the foot of those hills which lie outside the city I\nsaw Gul dismount and go towards a house which some negroes have built\nthere. Over against the door was a high seat, and on it lay a giant\nnegro, before whom she salaamed. He got up and beat her till she was\nmarked with weals, but she uttered no complaint. I was dumfounded,\nfor once when I had struck her with a rose-stalk she had complained\nand fretted for three days! Then the negro said to her: \"How now, ugly\none and shaven head! Why are you so late, and why are you not wearing\nwedding garments?\" She answered him: \"That person did not go to sleep\nquickly, and he stayed at home all day, so that I was not able to\nadorn myself. I came as soon as I could.\" In a little while he called\nher to sit beside him; but this was more than I could bear. I lost\ncontrol of myself and rushed upon him. He clutched my collar and we\ngrappled in a death struggle. Suddenly she came behind me, caught my\nfeet and threw me. While he held me on the ground, she drew out my own\nknife and gave it to him. I should have been killed but for that\nfaithful dog which seized his throat and pulled him down and pinned\nhim to the ground. Then I got up and despatched the wretch. There were\nfour other negroes at the place; three I killed and the fourth got\naway, and has taken refuge beneath the throne of Mihr-afr\u00fbz, daughter\nof King Quim\u00fbs. I took Gul back to my palace, and from that time till\nnow I have treated her as a dog is treated, and I have cared for my\ndog as though it were my wife. Now you know what the rose did to the\ncypress; and now you must keep compact with me.'\n\n'I shall keep my word,' said the prince; 'but may a little water be\ntaken to the roof so that I may make my last ablution?'\n\nTo this request the king consented. The prince mounted to the roof,\nand, getting into a corner, struck his fire-steel and burned one of\nthe S\u00eemurgh's feathers in the flame. Straightway it appeared, and by\nthe majesty of its presence made the city quake. It took the prince\non its back and soared away to the zenith.\n\nAfter a time King Sinaubar said: 'That young man is a long time on the\nroof; go and bring him here.' But there was no sign of the prince upon\nthe roof; only, far away in the sky, the S\u00eemurgh was seen carrying him\noff. When the king heard of his escape he thanked heaven that his\nhands were clean of this blood.\n\nUp and up flew the S\u00eemurgh, till earth looked like an egg resting on\nan ocean. At length it dropped straight down to its own place, where\nthe kind prince was welcomed by the young birds and most hospitably\nentertained. He told the whole story of the rose and the cypress, and\nthen, laden with gifts which the S\u00eemurgh had gathered from cities far\nand near, he set his face for the Castle of Clashing Swords. The\nking-lion came out to meet him; he took the negro chief's\ndaughter--whose name was also Gul--in lawful marriage, and then\nmarched with her and her possessions and her attendants to the Place\nof Gifts. Here they halted for a night, and at dawn said good-bye to\nthe king-lion and set out for Jam\u00eela's country.\n\nWhen the Lady Jam\u00eela heard that Prince Alm\u00e2s was near, she went out,\nwith many a fair handmaid, to give him loving reception. Their meeting\nwas joyful, and they went together to the garden-palace. Jam\u00eela\nsummoned all her notables, and in their presence her marriage with the\nprince was solemnised. A few days later she entrusted her affairs to\nher vaz\u00eer, and made preparation to go with the prince to his own\ncountry. Before she started she restored all the men whom her sister,\nLat\u00eefa, had bewitched, to their own forms, and received their\nblessings, and set them forward to their homes. The wicked Lat\u00eefa\nherself she left quite alone in her garden-house. When all was ready\nthey set out with all her servants and slaves, all her treasure and\ngoods, and journeyed at ease to the city of King Quim\u00fbs.\n\nWhen King Quim\u00fbs heard of the approach of such a great company, he\nsent out his vaz\u00eer to give the prince honourable meeting, and to ask\nwhat had procured him the favour of the visit. The prince sent back\nword that he had no thought of war, but he wrote: 'Learn and know,\nKing Quim\u00fbs, that I am here to end the crimes of your insolent\ndaughter who has tyrannously done to death many kings and kings' sons,\nand has hung their heads on your citadel. I am here to give her the\nanswer to her riddle.' Later on he entered the city, beat boldly on\nthe drums, and was conducted to the presence.\n\nThe king entreated him to have nothing to do with the riddle, for that\nno man had come out of it alive. 'O king!' replied the prince, 'it is\nto answer it that I am here; I will not withdraw.'\n\nMihr-afr\u00fbz was told that one man more had staked his head on her\nquestion, and that this was one who said he knew the answer. At the\nrequest of the prince, all the officers and notables of the land were\nsummoned to hear his reply to the princess. All assembled, and the\nking and his queen Gul-rukh, and the girl and the prince were there.\n\nThe prince addressed Mihr-afr\u00fbz: 'What is the question you ask?'\n\n'What did the rose do to the cypress?' she rejoined.\n\nThe prince smiled, and turned and addressed the assembly.\n\n'You who are experienced men and versed in affairs, did you ever know\nor hear and see anything of this matter?'\n\n'No!' they answered, 'no one has ever known or heard or seen aught\nabout it; it is an empty fancy.'\n\n'From whom, then, did the princess hear of it? This empty fancy it is\nthat has done many a servant of God to death!'\n\nAll saw the good sense of his words and showed their approval. Then he\nturned to the princess: 'Tell us the truth, princess; who told you of\nthis thing? I know it hair by hair, and in and out; but if I tell you\nwhat I know, who is there that can say I speak the truth? You must\nproduce the person who can confirm my words.'\n\nHer heart sank, for she feared that her long-kept secret was now to be\nnoised abroad. But she said merely: 'Explain yourself.'\n\n'I shall explain myself fully when you bring here the negro whom you\nhide beneath your throne.'\n\nHere the king shouted in wonderment: 'Explain yourself, young man!\nWhat negro does my daughter hide beneath her throne?'\n\n'That,' said the prince, 'you will see if you order to be brought here\nthe negro who will be found beneath the throne of the princess.'\n\nMessengers were forthwith despatched to the garden-house, and after\nawhile they returned bringing a negro whom they had discovered in a\nsecret chamber underneath the throne of Mihr-afr\u00fbz, dressed in a dress\nof honour, and surrounded with luxury. The king was overwhelmed with\nastonishment, but the girl had taken heart again. She had had time to\nthink that perhaps the prince had heard of the presence of the negro,\nand knew no more. So she said haughtily: 'Prince! you have not\nanswered my riddle.'\n\n'O most amazingly impudent person,' cried he, 'do you not yet repent?'\n\nThen he turned to the people, and told them the whole story of the\nrose and the cypress, of King Sinaubar and Queen Gul. When he came to\nthe killing of the negroes, he said to the one who stood before them:\n'You, too, were present.'\n\n'That is so; all happened as you have told it!'\n\nThere was great rejoicing in the court and all through the country\nover the solving of the riddle, and because now no more kings and\nprinces would be killed. King Quim\u00fbs made over his daughter to Prince\nAlm\u00e2s, but the latter refused to marry her, and took her as his\ncaptive. He then asked that the heads should be removed from the\nbattlements and given decent burial. This was done. He received from\nthe king everything that belonged to Mihr-afr\u00fbz; her treasure of gold\nand silver; her costly stuffs and carpets; her household plenishing;\nher horses and camels; her servants and slaves.\n\nThen he returned to his camp and sent for Dil-ar\u00e2m, who came bringing\nher goods and chattels, her gold and her jewels. When all was ready,\nPrince Alm\u00e2s set out for home, taking with him Jam\u00eela, and Dil-ar\u00e2m\nand Gul, daughter of Taram-t\u00e2q, and the wicked Mihr-afr\u00fbz, and all the\nbelongings of the four, packed on horses and camels, and in carts\nwithout number.\n\nAs he approached the borders of his father's country word of his\ncoming went before him, and all the city came forth to give him\nwelcome. King Saman-l\u00e2l-p\u00f4sh--Jessamine, wearer of rubies--had so\nbewept the loss of his sons that he was now blind. When the prince had\nkissed his feet and received his blessing, he took from a casket a\nlittle collyrium of Solomon, which the S\u00eemurgh had given him, and\nwhich reveals the hidden things of earth, and rubbed it on his\nfather's eyes. Light came, and the king saw his son.\n\nMihr-afr\u00fbz was brought before the king, and the prince said: 'This is\nthe murderer of your sons; do with her as you will.' The king fancied\nthat the prince might care for the girl's beauty, and replied: 'You\nhave humbled her; do with her as you will.'\n\nUpon this the prince sent for four swift and strong horses, and had\nthe negro bound to each one of them; then each was driven to one of\nthe four quarters, and he tore in pieces like muslin.\n\nThis frightened Mihr-afr\u00fbz horribly, for she thought the same thing\nmight be done to herself. She cried out to the prince: 'O Prince\nAlm\u00e2s! what is hardest to get is most valued. Up till now I have been\nsubject to no man, and no man had had my love. The many kings and\nkings' sons who have died at my hands have died because it was their\nfate to die like this. In this matter I have not sinned. That was\ntheir fate from eternity; and from the beginning it was predestined\nthat my fate should be bound up with yours.'\n\nThe prince gave ear to the argument from preordainment, and as she was\na very lovely maiden he took her too in lawful marriage. She and\nJam\u00eela set up house together, and Dil-ar\u00e2m and Gul set up theirs; and\nthe prince passed the rest of his life with the four in perfect\nhappiness, and in pleasant and sociable entertainment.\n\nNow has been told what the rose did to the cypress.\n\nFinished, finished, finished!\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Translated from two Persian MSS. in the possession of the British\nMuseum and the India Office, and adapted, with some reservations, by\nAnnette S. Beveridge.\n\n[2] Jessamine, ruby-decked.\n\n[3] Life-giving diamond.\n\n[4] World-gripper.\n\n[5] Love-enkindler.\n\n[6] Rose-cheek.\n\n[7] Heartsease.\n\n[8] Elias.\n\n[9] Pleasure.\n\n[10] Thirty-birds.\n\n[11] Pomp and Pride.\n\n[12] Of happy omen.\n\n\n\n\n_BALL-CARRIER AND THE BAD ONE_\n\n\nFar, far in the forest there were two little huts, and in each of them\nlived a man who was a famous hunter, his wife, and three or four\nchildren. Now the children were forbidden to play more than a short\ndistance from the door, as it was known that, away on the other side\nof the wood near the great river, there dwelt a witch who had a magic\nball that she used as a means of stealing children.\n\nHer plan was a very simple one, and had never yet failed. When she\nwanted a child she just flung her ball in the direction of the child's\nhome, and however far off it might be, the ball was sure to reach it.\nThen, as soon as the child saw it, the ball would begin rolling slowly\nback to the witch, just keeping a little ahead of the child, so that\nhe always thought that he could catch it the next minute. But he never\ndid, and, what was more, his parents never saw him again.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOf course you must not suppose that all the fathers and mothers who\nhad lost children made no attempts to find them, but the forest was so\nlarge, and the witch was so cunning in knowing exactly where they were\ngoing to search, that it was very easy for her to keep out of the way.\nBesides, there was always the chance that the children might have been\neaten by wolves, of which large herds roamed about in winter.\n\n [Illustration: THE BOY IN THE WITCH'S HUT]\n\nOne day the old witch happened to want a little boy, so she threw her\nball in the direction of the hunters' huts. A child was standing\noutside, shooting at a mark with his bow and arrows, but the moment\nhe saw the ball, which was made of glass whose blues and greens and\nwhites, all frosted over, kept changing one into the other, he flung\ndown his bow, and stooped to pick the ball up. But as he did so it\nbegan to roll very gently downhill. The boy could not let it roll\naway, when it was so close to him, so he gave chase. The ball seemed\nalways within his grasp, yet he could never catch it; it went quicker\nand quicker, and the boy grew more and more excited. That time he\nalmost touched it--no, he missed it by a hair's breadth! Now, surely,\nif he gave a spring he could get in front of it! He sprang forward,\ntripped and fell, and found himself in the witch's house!\n\n'Welcome! welcome! grandson!' said she; 'get up and rest yourself, for\nyou have had a long walk, and I am sure you must be tired!' So the boy\nsat down, and ate some food which she gave him in a bowl. It was quite\ndifferent from anything he had tasted before, and he thought it was\ndelicious. When he had eaten up every bit, the witch asked him if he\nhad ever fasted.\n\n'No,' replied the boy, 'at least I have been obliged to sometimes, but\nnever if there was any food to be had.'\n\n'You will have to fast if you want the spirits to make you strong and\nwise, and the sooner you begin the better.'\n\n'Very well,' said the boy, 'what do I do first?'\n\n'Lie down on those buffalo skins by the door of the hut,' answered\nshe; and the boy lay down, and the squirrels and little bears and the\nbirds came and talked to him.\n\nAt the end of ten days the old woman came to him with a bowl of the\nsame food that he had eaten before.\n\n'Get up, my grandson, you have fasted long enough. Have the good\nspirits visited you, and granted you the strength and wisdom that you\ndesire?'\n\n'Some of them have come, and have given me a portion of both,'\nanswered the boy, 'but many have stayed away from me.'\n\n'Then,' said she, 'you must fast ten days more.'\n\nSo the boy lay down again on the buffalo skins, and fasted for ten\ndays, and at the end of that time he turned his face to the wall, and\nfasted for twenty days longer. At length the witch called to him, and\nsaid:\n\n'Come and eat something, my grandson.' At the sound of her voice the\nboy got up and ate the food she gave him. When he had finished every\nscrap she spoke as before: 'Tell me, my grandson, have not the good\nspirits visited you all these many days that you have fasted?'\n\n'Not all, grandmother,' answered he; 'there are still some who keep\naway from me and say that I have not fasted long enough.'\n\n'Then you must fast again,' replied the old woman, 'and go on fasting\ntill you receive the gifts of _all_ the good spirits. Not one must be\nmissing.'\n\nThe boy said nothing, but lay down for the third time on the buffalo\nskins, and fasted for twenty days more. And at the end of that time\nthe witch thought he was dead, his face was so white and his body so\nstill. But when she had fed him out of the bowl he grew stronger, and\nsoon was able to sit up.\n\n'You have fasted a long time,' said she, 'longer than anyone ever\nfasted before. Surely the good spirits must be satisfied _now_?'\n\n'Yes, grandmother,' answered the boy, 'they have all come, and have\ngiven me their gifts.'\n\nThis pleased the old woman so much that she brought him another basin\nof food, and while he was eating it she talked to him, and this is\nwhat she said: 'Far away, on the other side of the great river, is the\nhome of the Bad One. In his house is much gold, and what is more\nprecious even than the gold, a little bridge, which lengthens out when\nthe Bad One waves his hand, so that there is no river or sea that he\ncannot cross. Now I want that bridge and some of the gold for myself,\nand that is the reason that I have stolen so many boys by means of my\nball. I have tried to teach them how to gain the gifts of the good\nspirits, but none of them would fast long enough, and at last I had to\nsend them away to perform simple, easy little tasks. But you have\nbeen strong and faithful, and you can do this thing if you listen to\nwhat I tell you! When you reach the river tie this ball to your foot,\nand it will take you across--you cannot manage it in any other way.\nBut do not be afraid; trust to the ball, and you will be quite safe!'\n\nThe boy took the ball and put it in a bag. Then he made himself a club\nand a bow, and some arrows which would fly further than anyone else's\narrows, because of the strength the good spirits had given him. They\nhad also bestowed on him the power of changing his shape, and had\nincreased the quickness of his eyes and ears so that nothing escaped\nhim. And in some way or other they made him understand that if he\nneeded more help they would give it to him.\n\nWhen all these things were ready the boy bade farewell to the witch\nand set out. He walked through the forest for several days without\nseeing anyone but his friends the squirrels and the bears and the\nbirds, but though he stopped and spoke to them all, he was careful not\nto let them know where he was going.\n\nAt last, after many days, he came to the river, and beyond it he\nnoticed a small hut standing on a hill which he guessed to be the home\nof the Bad One. But the stream flowed so quickly that he could not see\nhow he was ever to cross it, and in order to test how swift the\ncurrent really was, he broke a branch from a tree and threw it in. It\nseemed hardly to touch the water before it was carried away, and even\nhis magic sight could not follow it. He could not help feeling\nfrightened, but he hated giving up anything that he had once\nundertaken, and, fastening the ball on his right foot, he ventured on\nthe river. To his surprise he was able to stand up; then a panic\nseized him, and he scrambled up the bank again. In a minute or two he\nplucked up courage to go a little further into the river, but again\nits width frightened him, and a second time he turned back. However,\nhe felt rather ashamed of his cowardice, as it was quite clear that\nhis ball _could_ support him, and on his third trial he got safely to\nthe other side.\n\nOnce there he replaced the ball in the bag, and looked carefully round\nhim. The door of the Bad One's hut was open, and he saw that the\nceiling was supported by great wooden beams, from which hung the bags\nof gold and the little bridge. He saw, too, the Bad One sitting in the\nmidst of his treasures eating his dinner, and drinking something out\nof a horn. It was plain to the boy that he must invent some plan of\ngetting the Bad One out of the way, or else he would never be able to\nsteal the gold or the bridge.\n\nWhat should he do? Give horrible shrieks as if he were in pain? But\nthe Bad One would not care whether he were murdered or not! Call him\nby his name? But the Bad One was very cunning, and would suspect some\ntrick. He must try something better than that! Then suddenly an idea\ncame to him, and he gave a little jump of joy. 'Oh, how stupid of me\nnot to think of that before!' said he, and he wished with all his\nmight that the Bad One should become very hungry--so hungry that he\ncould not wait a moment for fresh food to be brought to him. And sure\nenough at that instant the Bad One called out to his servant, 'You did\nnot bring food that would satisfy a sparrow. Fetch some more at once,\nfor I am perfectly starving.' Then, without giving the woman time to\ngo to the larder, he got up from his chair, and rolled, staggering\nfrom hunger, towards the kitchen.\n\nDirectly the door had closed on the Bad One the boy ran in, pulled\ndown a bag of gold from the beam, and tucked it under his left arm.\nNext he unhooked the little bridge and put it under his right. He did\nnot try to escape, as most boys of his age would have done, for the\nwisdom put into his mind by the good spirits taught him that before he\ncould reach the river and make use of the bridge the Bad One would\nhave tracked him by his footsteps and been upon him. So, making\nhimself very small and thin, he hid himself behind a pile of buffalo\nskins in the corner, first tearing a slit through one of them, so that\nhe could see what was going on.\n\nHe had hardly settled himself when the servant entered the room, and,\nas she did so, the last bag of gold on the beam fell to the\nground--for they had begun to fall directly the boy had taken the\nfirst one. She cried to her master that someone had stolen both the\nbag and the bridge, and the Bad One rushed in, mad with anger, and\nbade her go and seek for footsteps outside, that they might find out\nwhere the thief had gone. In a few minutes she returned, saying that\nhe must be in the house, as she could not see any footsteps leading to\nthe river, and began to move all the furniture in the room, without\ndiscovering Ball-Carrier.\n\n'But he _must_ be here somewhere,' she said to herself, examining for\nthe second time the pile of buffalo skins; and Ball-Carrier, knowing\nthat he could not possibly escape now, hastily wished that the Bad One\nshould be unable to eat any more food at present.\n\n'Ah, there is a slit in this one,' cried the servant, shaking the\nskin; 'and here he is.' And she pulled out Ball-Carrier, looking so\nlean and small that he would hardly have made a mouthful for a\nsparrow.\n\n'Was it you who took my gold and bridge?' asked the Bad One.\n\n'Yes,' answered Ball-Carrier, 'it was I who took them.'\n\nThe Bad One made a sign to the woman, who inquired where he had hidden\nthem. He lifted his left arm where the gold was, and she picked up a\nknife and scraped his skin so that no gold should be left sticking to\nit.\n\n'What have you done with the bridge?' said she. And he lifted his\nright arm, from which she took the bridge, while the Bad One looked\non, well pleased. 'Be sure that he does not run away,' chuckled he.\n'Boil some water, and get him ready for cooking, while I go and\ninvite my friends the water-demons to the feast.'\n\n [Illustration: THE DEATH OF THE BAD ONE]\n\nThe woman seized Ball-Carrier between her finger and thumb, and was\ngoing to carry him to the kitchen, when the boy spoke:\n\n'I am very lean and small now,' he said, 'hardly worth the trouble of\ncooking; but if you were to keep me two days, and gave me plenty of\nfood, I should get big and fat. As it is, your friends the\nwater-demons would think you meant to laugh at them, when they found\nthat _I_ was the feast.'\n\n'Well, perhaps you are right,' answered the Bad One; 'I will keep you\nfor two days.' And he went out to visit the water-demons.\n\nMeanwhile the servant, whose name was Lung-Woman, led him into a\nlittle shed, and chained him up to a ring in the wall. But food was\ngiven him every hour, and at the end of two days he was as fat and big\nas a Christmas turkey, and could hardly move his head from one side to\nthe other.\n\n'He will do now,' said the Bad One, who came constantly to see how he\nwas getting on. 'I shall go and tell the water-demons that we expect\nthem to dinner to-night. Put the kettle on the fire, but be sure on no\naccount to taste the broth.'\n\nLung-Woman lost no time in obeying her orders. She built up the fire,\nwhich had got very low, filled the kettle with water, and passing a\nrope which hung from the ceiling through the handle, swung it over the\nflames. Then she brought in Ball-Carrier, who, seeing all these\npreparations, wished that as long as _he_ was in the kettle the water\nmight not really boil, though it would hiss and bubble, and also, that\nthe spirits would turn the water into fat.\n\nThe kettle soon began to sing and bubble, and Ball-Carrier was lifted\nin. Very soon the fat which was to make the sauce rose to the surface,\nand Ball-Carrier, who was bobbing about from one side to the other,\ncalled out that Lung-Woman had better taste the broth, as he thought\nthat some salt should be added to it. The servant knew quite well that\nher master had forbidden her to do anything of the kind, but when once\nthe idea was put into her head, she found the smell from the kettle so\ndelicious that she unhooked a long ladle from the wall and plunged it\ninto the kettle.\n\n'You will spill it all, if you stand so far off,' said the boy; 'why\ndon't you come a little nearer?' And as she did so he cried to the\nspirits to give him back his usual size and strength and to make the\nwater scalding hot. Then he gave the kettle a kick, which upset all\nthe boiling water upon her, and jumping over her body he seized once\nmore the gold and the bridge, picked up his club and bow and arrows,\nand after setting fire to the Bad One's hut, ran down to the river,\nwhich he crossed safely by the help of the bridge.\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe hut, which was made of wood, was burned to the ground before the\nBad One came back with a large crowd of water-demons. There was not a\nsign of anyone or anything, so he started for the river, where he saw\nBall-Carrier sitting quietly on the other side. Then the Bad One knew\nwhat had happened, and after telling the water-demons that there would\nbe no feast after all, he called to Ball-Carrier, who was eating an\napple.\n\n'I know your name now,' he said, 'and as you have ruined me, and I am\nnot rich any more, will you take me as your servant?'\n\n'Yes, I will, though you have tried to kill me,' answered\nBall-Carrier, throwing the bridge across the water as he spoke. But\nwhen the Bad One was in the midst of the stream, the boy wished it to\nbecome small; and the Bad One fell into the water and was drowned, and\nthe world was rid of him.\n\n[_U.S. Bureau of Ethnology._]\n\n\n\n\n_HOW BALL-CARRIER FINISHED HIS TASK_\n\n\nAfter Ball-Carrier had managed to drown the Bad One so that he could\nnot do any more mischief, he forgot the way to his grandmother's\nhouse, and could not find it again, though he searched everywhere.\nDuring this time he wandered into many strange places, and had many\nadventures; and one day he came to a hut where a young girl lived. He\nwas tired and hungry and begged her to let him in and rest, and he\nstayed a long while, and the girl became his wife. One morning he saw\ntwo children playing in front of the hut, and went out to speak to\nthem. But as soon as they saw him they set up cries of horror and ran\naway. 'They are the children of my sister who has been on a long\njourney,' replied his wife, 'and now that she knows you are my husband\nshe wants to kill you.'\n\n'Oh, well, let her try,' replied Ball-Carrier. 'It is not the first\ntime people have wished to do that. And here I am still, you see!'\n\n'Be careful,' said the wife, 'she is very cunning.' But at this moment\nthe sister-in-law came up.\n\n'How do you do, brother-in-law? I have heard of you so often that I am\nvery glad to meet you. I am told that you are more powerful than any\nman on earth, and as I am powerful too, let us try which is the\nstrongest.'\n\n'That will be delightful,' answered he. 'Suppose we begin with a short\nrace, and then we will go on to other things.'\n\n'That will suit me very well,' replied the woman, who was a witch.\n'And let us agree that the one who wins shall have the right to kill\nthe other.'\n\n'Oh, certainly,' said Ball-Carrier; 'and I don't think we shall find a\nflatter course than the prairie itself--no one knows how many miles it\nstretches. We will run to the end and back again.'\n\nThis being settled they both made ready for the race, and Ball-Carrier\nsilently begged the good spirits to help him, and not to let him fall\ninto the hands of this wicked witch.\n\n'When the sun touches the trunk of that tree we will start,' said she,\nas they both stood side by side. But with the first step Ball-Carrier\nchanged himself into a wolf and for a long way kept ahead. Then\ngradually he heard her creeping up behind him, and soon she was in\nfront. So Ball-Carrier took the shape of a pigeon and flew rapidly\npast her, but in a little while she was in front again, and the end of\nthe prairie was in sight. 'A crow can fly faster than a pigeon,'\nthought he, and as a crow he managed to pass her and held his ground\nso long that he fancied she was quite beaten. The witch began to be\nafraid of it too, and putting out all her strength slipped past him.\nNext he put on the shape of a hawk, and in this form he reached the\nbounds of the prairie, he and the witch turning homewards at the\nmoment.\n\nBird after bird he tried, but every time the witch gained on him and\ntook the lead. At length the goal was in sight, and Ball-Carrier knew\nthat unless he could get ahead now he would be killed before his own\ndoor, under the eyes of his wife. His eyes had grown dim from fatigue,\nhis wings flapped wearily and hardly bore him along, while the witch\nseemed as fresh as ever. What bird was there whose flight was swifter\nthan his? Would not the good spirits tell him? Ah, of course he knew;\nwhy had he not thought of it at first and spared himself all that\nfatigue? And the next instant a humming bird, dressed in green and\nblue, flashed past the woman and entered the house. The witch came\npanting up, furious at having lost the race which she felt certain of\nwinning; and Ball-Carrier, who had by this time changed back into his\nown shape, struck her on the head and killed her.\n\n [Illustration: THE WITCH OUTSTRIPS THE WOLF]\n\nFor a long while Ball-Carrier was content to stay quietly at home with\nhis wife and children, for he was tired of adventures, and only did\nenough hunting to supply the house with food. But one day he happened\nto eat some poisonous berries that he had found in the forest, and\ngrew so ill that he felt he was going to die.\n\n'When I am dead do not bury me in the earth,' he said, 'but put me\nover there, among that clump of trees.' So his wife and her three\nchildren watched by him as long as he was alive, and after he was dead\nthey took him up and laid the body on a platform of stakes which they\nhad prepared in the grove. And as they returned weeping to the hut\nthey caught a glimpse of the ball rolling away down the path back to\nthe old grandmother. One of the sons sprang forward to stop it, for\nBall-Carrier had often told them the tale of how it had helped him to\ncross the river, but it was too quick for him, and they had to content\nthemselves with the war club and bow and arrows, which were put\ncarefully away.\n\nBy-and-by some travellers came past, and the chief among them asked\nleave to marry Ball-Carrier's daughter. The mother said she must have\na little time to think over it, as her daughter was still very young;\nso it was settled that the man should go away for a month with his\nfriends, and then come back to see if the girl was willing.\n\nNow ever since Ball-Carrier's death the family had been very poor, and\noften could not get enough to eat. One morning the girl, who had had\nno supper and no breakfast, wandered off to look for cranberries, and\nthough she was quite near home was astonished at noticing a large hut,\nwhich certainly had not been there when last she had come that way.\nNo one was about, so she ventured to peep in, and her surprise was\nincreased at seeing, heaped up in one corner, a quantity of food of\nall sorts, while a little robin redbreast stood perched on a beam\nlooking down upon her.\n\n'It is my father, I am sure,' she cried; and the bird piped in answer.\n\nFrom that day, whenever they wanted food they went to the hut, and\nthough the robin could not speak, he would hop on their shoulders and\nlet them feed him with the food they knew he liked best.\n\nWhen the man came back he found the girl looking so much prettier and\nfatter than when he had left her, that he insisted that they should be\nmarried on the spot. And the mother, who did not know how to get rid\nof him, gave in.\n\nThe husband spent all his time in hunting, and the family had never\nhad so much meat before; but the man, who had seen for himself how\npoor they were, noticed with amazement that they did not seem to care\nabout it, or to be hungry. 'They must get food from somewhere,' he\nthought, and one morning, when he pretended to be going out to hunt,\nhe hid in a thicket to watch. Very soon they all left the house\ntogether, and walked to the other hut, which the girl's husband saw\nfor the first time, as it was hid in a hollow. He followed, and\nnoticed that each one went up to the redbreast, and shook him by the\nclaw; and he then entered boldly and shook the bird's claw too. The\nwhole party afterwards sat down to dinner, after which they all\nreturned to their own hut.\n\nThe next day the husband declared that he was very ill, and could not\neat anything; but this was only a pretence so that he might get what\nhe wanted. The family were all much distressed, and begged him to tell\nthem what food he fancied.\n\n'Oh! I could not eat any food,' he answered every time, and at each\nanswer his voice grew fainter and fainter, till they thought he\nwould die from weakness before their eyes.\n\n [Illustration: 'WAKE UP, MY GRANDSON, IT IS TIME TO GO HOME']\n\n'There must be _some_ thing you could take, if you would only say what\nit is,' implored his wife.\n\n'No, nothing, nothing; except, perhaps--but of course that is\nimpossible!'\n\n'No, I am sure it is not,' replied she; 'you shall have it, I\npromise--only tell me what it is.'\n\n'I think--but I could not ask you to do such a thing. Leave me alone,\nand let me die quietly.'\n\n'You shall _not_ die,' cried the girl, who was very fond of her\nhusband, for he did not beat her as most girls' husbands did.\n'Whatever it is, I will manage to get it for you.'\n\n'Well, then, I _think_, if I had that--redbreast, nicely roasted, I\ncould eat a little bit of his wing!'\n\n * * * * *\n\nThe wife started back in horror at such a request; but the man turned\nhis face to the wall, and took no notice, as he thought it was better\nto leave her to herself for a little.\n\nWeeping and wringing her hands, the girl went down to her mother. The\nbrothers were very angry when they heard the story, and declared that,\nif any one were to die, it certainly should not be the robin. But all\nthat night the man seemed getting weaker and weaker, and at last,\nquite early, the wife crept out, and stealing to the hut, killed the\nbird, and brought him home to her husband.\n\nJust as she was going to cook it her two brothers came in. They cried\nout in horror at the sight, and, rushing out of the hut, declared they\nwould never see her any more. And the poor girl, with a heavy heart,\ntook the body of the redbreast up to her husband.\n\nBut directly she entered the room the man told her that he felt a\ngreat deal better, and that he would rather have a piece of bear's\nflesh, well boiled, than any bird, however tender. His wife felt very\nmiserable to think that their beloved redbreast had been sacrificed\nfor nothing, and begged him to try a little bit.\n\n'You felt so sure that it would do you good before,' said she, 'that I\ncan't help thinking it would quite cure you now.' But the man only\nflew into a rage, and flung the bird out of the window. Then he got up\nand went out.\n\nNow all this while the ball had been rolling, rolling, rolling to the\nold grandmother's hut on the other side of the world, and directly it\nrolled into her hut she knew that her grandson must be dead. Without\nwasting any time she took a fox skin and tied it round her forehead,\nand fastened another round her waist, as witches always do when they\nleave their own homes. When she was ready she said to the ball: 'Go\nback the way you came, and lead me to my grandson.' And the ball\nstarted with the old woman following.\n\nIt was a long journey, even for a witch, but, like other things, it\nended at last; and the old woman stood before the platform of stakes,\nwhere the body of Ball-Carrier lay.\n\n'Wake up, my grandson, it is time to go home,' the witch said. And\nBall-Carrier stepped down off the platform, and brought his club and\nbow and arrows out of the hut, and set out, for the other side of the\nworld, behind the old woman.\n\nWhen they reached the hut where Ball-Carrier had fasted so many years\nago, the old woman spoke for the first time since they had started on\ntheir way.\n\n'My grandson, did you ever manage to get that gold from the Bad One?'\n\n'Yes, grandmother, I got it.'\n\n'Where is it?' she asked.\n\n'Here, in my left arm-pit,' answered he.\n\nSo she picked up a knife and scraped away all the gold which had stuck\nto his skin, and which had been sticking there ever since he first\nstole it. After she had finished she asked again:\n\n'My grandson, did you manage to get that bridge from the Bad One?'\n\n'Yes, grandmother, I got that too,' answered he.\n\n'Where is it?' she asked, and Ball-Carrier lifted his right arm, and\npointed to his arm-pit.\n\n'Here is the bridge, grandmother,' said he.\n\nThen the witch did something that nobody in the world could have\nguessed that she would do. First, she took the gold and said to\nBall-Carrier:\n\n'My grandson, this gold must be hidden in the earth, for if people\nthink they can get it when they choose, they will become lazy and\nstupid. But if we take it and bury it in different parts of the world\nthey will have to work for it if they want it, and then will only find\na little at a time.' And as she spoke, she pulled up one of the poles\nof the hut, and Ball-Carrier saw that underneath was a deep, deep\nhole, which seemed to have no bottom. Down this hole she poured all\nthe gold, and when it was out of sight it ran about all over the\nworld, where people that dig hard sometimes find it. And after that\nwas done she put the pole back again.\n\nNext she lifted down a spade from a high shelf, where it had grown\nquite rusty, and dug a very small hole on the opposite side of the\nhut--very small, but very deep.\n\n'Give me the bridge,' said she, 'for I am going to bury it here. If\nanyone was to get hold of it, and find that they could cross rivers\nand seas without any trouble, they would never discover how to cross\nthem for themselves. I am a witch, and if I had chosen I could easily\nhave cast my spells over the Bad One, and have made him deliver them\nto you the first day you came into my hut. But then you would never\nhave fasted, and never have planned how to get what you wanted, and\nnever have known the good spirits, and would have been fat and idle to\nthe end of your days. And now go; in that hut, which you can just see\nfar away, live your father and mother, who are old people now, and\nneed a son to hunt for them. You have done what you were set to do,\nand I need you no more.'\n\nThen Ball-Carrier remembered his parents and went back to them.\n\n[From _Bureau of Ethnology_. 'Indian Folklore.']\n\n\n\n\n_THE BUNYIP_\n\n\nLong, long ago, far, far away on the other side of the world, some\nyoung men left the camp where they lived to get some food for their\nwives and children. The sun was hot, but they liked heat, and as they\nwent they ran races and tried who could hurl his spear the farthest,\nor was cleverest in throwing a strange weapon called a boomerang,\nwhich always returns to the thrower. They did not get on very fast at\nthis rate, but presently they reached a flat place that in time of\nflood was full of water, but was now, in the height of summer, only a\nset of pools, each surrounded with a fringe of plants, with bulrushes\nstanding in the inside of all. In that country the people are fond of\nthe roots of bulrushes, which they think as good as onions, and one of\nthe young men said that they had better collect some of the roots and\ncarry them back to the camp. It did not take them long to weave the\ntops of the willows into a basket, and they were just going to wade\ninto the water and pull up the bulrush roots when a youth suddenly\ncalled out: 'After all, why should we waste our time in doing work\nthat is only fit for women and children? Let them come and get the\nroots for themselves; but we will fish for eels and anything else we\ncan get.'\n\nThis delighted the rest of the party, and they all began to arrange\ntheir fishing lines, made from the bark of the yellow mimosa, and to\nsearch for bait for their hooks. Most of them used worms, but one, who\nhad put a piece of raw meat for dinner into his skin wallet, cut off\na little bit and baited his line with it, unseen by his companions.\n\nFor a long time they cast patiently, without receiving a single bite;\nthe sun had grown low in the sky, and it seemed as if they would have\nto go home empty-handed, not even with a basket of roots to show; when\nthe youth, who had baited his hook with raw meat, suddenly saw his\nline disappear under the water. Something, a very heavy fish he\nsupposed, was pulling so hard that he could hardly keep his feet, and\nfor a few minutes it seemed either as if he must let go or be dragged\ninto the pool. He cried to his friends to help him, and at last,\ntrembling with fright at what they were going to see, they managed\nbetween them to land on the bank a creature that was neither a calf\nnor a seal, but something of both, with a long, broad tail. They\nlooked at each other with horror, cold shivers running down their\nspines; for though they had never beheld it, there was not a man\namongst them who did not know what it was--the cub of the awful\nBunyip!\n\nAll of a sudden the silence was broken by a low wail, answered by\nanother from the other side of the pool, as the mother rose up from\nher den and came towards them, rage flashing from her horrible yellow\neyes. 'Let it go! let it go!' whispered the young men to each other;\nbut the captor declared that he had caught it, and was going to keep\nit. 'He had promised his sweetheart,' he said, 'that he would bring\nback enough meat for her father's house to feast on for three days,\nand though they could not eat the little Bunyip, her brothers and\nsisters should have it to play with.' So, flinging his spear at the\nmother to keep her back, he threw the little Bunyip on to his\nshoulders, and set out for the camp, never heeding the poor mother's\ncries of distress.\n\n [Illustration: THE BUNYIP]\n\nBy this time it was getting near sunset, and the plain was in shadow,\nthough the tops of the mountains were still quite bright. The youths\nhad all ceased to be afraid, when they were startled by a\nlow rushing sound behind them, and, looking round, saw that the pool\nwas slowly rising, and the spot where they had landed the Bunyip was\nquite covered. 'What could it be?' they asked one of another; 'there\nwas not a cloud in the sky, yet the water had risen higher already\nthan they had ever known it do before.' For an instant they stood\nwatching as if they were frozen, then they turned and ran with all\ntheir might, the man with the Bunyip running faster than all. When he\nreached a high peak overlooking all the plain he stopped to take\nbreath, and turned to see if he was safe yet. Safe! why only the tops\nof the trees remained above that sea of water, and these were fast\ndisappearing. They must run fast indeed if they were to escape. So on\nthey flew, scarcely feeling the ground as they went, till they flung\nthemselves on the ground before the holes scooped out of the earth\nwhere they had all been born. The old men were sitting in front, the\nchildren were playing, and the women chattering together, when the\nlittle Bunyip fell into their midst, and there was scarcely a child\namong them who did not know that something terrible was upon them.\n'The water! the water!' gasped one of the young men; and there it was,\nslowly but steadily mounting the ridge itself. Parents and children\nclung together, as if by that means they could drive back the\nadvancing flood; and the youth who had caused all this terrible\ncatastrophe, seized his sweetheart, and cried: 'I will climb with you\nto the top of that tree, and there no waters can reach us.' But, as he\nspoke, something cold touched him, and quickly he glanced down at his\nfeet. Then with a shudder he saw that they were feet no longer, but\nbird's claws. He looked at the girl he was clasping, and beheld a\ngreat black bird standing at his side; he turned to his friends, but a\nflock of great awkward flapping creatures stood in their place. He put\nup his hands to cover his face, but they were no more hands, only the\nends of wings; and when he tried to speak, a noise such as he had\nnever heard before seemed to come from his throat, which had suddenly\nbecome narrow and slender. Already the water had risen to his waist,\nand he found himself sitting easily upon it, while its surface\nreflected back the image of a black swan, one of many.\n\n * * * * *\n\nNever again did the swans become men; but they are still different\nfrom other swans, for in the night-time those who listen can hear them\ntalk in a language that is certainly not swan's language; and there\nare even sounds of laughing and talking, unlike any noise made by the\nswans whom we know.\n\nThe little Bunyip was carried home by its mother, and after that the\nwaters sank back to their own channels. The side of the pool where she\nlives is always shunned by everyone, as nobody knows when she may\nsuddenly put out her head and draw him into her mighty jaws. But\npeople say that underneath the black waters of the pool she has a\nhouse filled with beautiful things, such as mortals who dwell on the\nearth have no idea of. Though how they know I cannot tell you, as\nnobody has ever seen it.\n\n[From _Journal of Anthropological Institute_.]\n\n\n\n\n_FATHER GRUMBLER_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a man who had nearly as many children as\nthere were sparrows in the garden. He had to work very hard all day to\nget them enough to eat, and was often tired and cross, and abused\neverything and everybody, so that people called him 'Father Grumbler.'\n\nBy-and-by he grew weary of always working, and on Sundays he lay a\nlong while in bed, instead of going to church. Then after a time he\nfound it dull to sit so many hours by himself, thinking of nothing but\nhow to pay the rent that was owing, and as the tavern across the road\nlooked bright and cheerful, he walked in one day and sat down with his\nfriends. 'It was just to chase away Care,' he said; but when he came\nout, hours and hours after, Care came out with him.\n\nFather Grumbler entered his house feeling more dismal than when he\nleft it, for he knew that he had wasted both his time and money.\n\n'I will go and see the Holy Man in the cave near the well,' he said to\nhimself, 'and perhaps he can tell me why all the luck is for other\npeople, and only misfortunes happen to me.' And he set out at once for\nthe cave.\n\nIt was a long way off, and the road led over mountains and through\nvalleys; but at last he reached the cave where the Holy Man dwelt, and\nknocked at the door.\n\n'Who is there?' asked a voice from within.\n\n'It is I, Holy Man, Father Grumbler, you know, who has as many\nchildren as sparrows in the garden.'\n\n'Well, and what is it that you want?'\n\n'I want to know why other people have all the luck, and only\nmisfortunes happen to me!'\n\nThe Holy Man did not answer, but went into an inner cave, from which\nhe came out bearing something in his hand. 'Do you see this basket?'\nsaid he. 'It is a magical basket, and if you are hungry you have only\ngot to say: \"Little basket, little basket, do your duty,\" and you will\neat the best dinner you ever had in your life. But when you have had\nenough, be sure you don't forget to cry out: \"That will do for\nto-day.\" Oh!--and one thing more--you need not show it to everybody\nand declare that I have given it to you. Do you understand?'\n\nFather Grumbler was always accustomed to think of himself as so\nunlucky that he did not know whether the Holy Man was not playing a\ntrick upon him; but he took the basket without being polite enough to\nsay either 'Thank you,' or 'Good-morning,' and went away. However, he\nonly waited till he was out of sight of the cave before he stooped\ndown and whispered: 'Little basket, little basket, do your duty.'\n\nNow the basket had a lid, so that he could not see what was inside,\nbut he heard quite clearly strange noises, as if a sort of scuffling\nwas going on. Then the lid burst open, and a quantity of delicious\nlittle white rolls came tumbling out one after the other, followed by\na stream of small fishes all ready cooked. What a quantity there were\nto be sure! The whole road was covered with them, and the banks on\neach side were beginning to disappear. Father Grumbler felt quite\nfrightened at the torrent, but at last he remembered what the Holy Man\nhad told him, and cried at the top of his voice: 'Enough! enough! That\nwill do for to-day!' And the lid of the basket closed with a snap.\n\nFather Grumbler sighed with relief and happiness as he looked around\nhim, and sitting down on a heap of stones, he ate till he could eat no\nmore. Trout, salmon, turbot, soles, and a hundred other fishes whose\nnames he did not know, lay boiled, fried, and grilled within reach of\nhis hands. As the Holy Man had said, he had never eaten such a dinner;\nstill, when he had done, he shook his head, and grumbled; 'Yes, there\nis plenty to eat, of course, but it only makes me thirsty, and there\nis not a drop to drink anywhere.'\n\n [Illustration: THE MAGIC BASKET]\n\nYet, somehow, he could never tell why, he looked up and saw the tavern\nin front of him, which he thought was miles, and miles, and miles\naway.\n\n'Bring the best wine you have got, and two glasses, good mother,' he\nsaid as he entered, 'and if you are fond of fish there is enough here\nto feed the house. Only there is no need to chatter about it all over\nthe place. You understand? Eh?' And without waiting for an answer he\nwhispered to the basket: 'Little basket, little basket, do your duty.'\nThe innkeeper and his wife thought that their customer had gone\nsuddenly mad, and watched him closely, ready to spring on him if he\nbecame violent; but both instinctively jumped backwards, nearly into\nthe fire, as rolls and fishes of every kind came tumbling out of the\nbasket, covering the tables and chairs and the floor, and even\noverflowing into the street.\n\n'Be quick, be quick, and pick them up,' cried the man. 'And if these\nare not enough, there are plenty more to be had for the asking.'\n\nThe innkeeper and his wife did not need telling twice. Down they went\non their knees and gathered up everything they could lay hands on. But\nbusy though they seemed, they found time to whisper to each other:\n\n'If we can only get hold of that basket it will make our fortune!'\n\nSo they began by inviting Father Grumbler to sit down to the table,\nand brought out the best wine in the cellar, hoping it might loosen\nhis tongue. But Father Grumbler was wiser than they gave him credit\nfor, and though they tried in all manner of ways to find out who had\ngiven him the basket, he put them off, and kept his secret to himself.\nUnluckily, though he did not _speak_, he did drink, and it was not\nlong before he fell fast asleep. Then the woman fetched from her\nkitchen a basket, so like the magic one that no one, without looking\nvery closely, could tell the difference, and placed it in Father\nGrumbler's hand, while she hid the other carefully away.\n\nIt was dinner time when the man awoke, and, jumping up hastily, he set\nout for home, where he found all the children gathered round a basin\nof thin soup, and pushing their wooden bowls forward, hoping to have\nthe first spoonful. Their father burst into the midst of them, bearing\nhis basket, and crying:\n\n'Don't spoil your appetites, children, with that stuff. Do you see\nthis basket? Well, I have only got to say, \"Little basket, little\nbasket, do your duty,\" and you will see what will happen. Now you\nshall say it instead of me, for a treat.'\n\nThe children, wondering and delighted, repeated the words, but nothing\nhappened. Again and again they tried, but the basket was only a\nbasket, with a few scales of fish sticking to the bottom, for the\ninnkeeper's wife had taken it to market the day before.\n\n'What is the matter with the thing?' cried the father at last,\nsnatching the basket from them, and turning it all over, grumbling and\nswearing while he did so, under the eyes of his astonished wife and\nchildren, who did not know whether to cry or to laugh.\n\n'It certainly smells of fish,' he said, and then he stopped, for a\nsudden thought had come to him.\n\n'Suppose it is not mine at all; supposing---- Ah, the scoundrels!'\n\nAnd without listening to his wife and children, who were frightened at\nhis strange conduct and begged him to stay at home, he ran across to\nthe tavern and burst open the door.\n\n'Can I do anything for you, Father Grumbler?' asked the innkeeper's\nwife in her softest voice.\n\n'I have taken the wrong basket--by mistake, of course,' said he. 'Here\nis yours, will you give me back my own?'\n\n'Why, what are you talking about?' answered she. 'You can see for\nyourself that there is no basket here.'\n\nAnd though Father Grumbler _did_ look, it was quite true that none was\nto be seen.\n\n'Come, take a glass to warm you this cold day,' said the woman, who\nwas anxious to keep him in a good temper, and as this was an\ninvitation Father Grumbler never refused, he tossed it off and left\nthe house.\n\nHe took the road that led to the Holy Man's cave, and made such haste\nthat it was not long before he reached it.\n\n'Who is there?' said a voice in answer to his knock.\n\n'It is me, it is me, Holy Man. You know quite well. Father Grumbler,\nwho has as many children as sparrows in the garden.'\n\n'But, my good man, it was only yesterday that I gave you a handsome\npresent.'\n\n'Yes, Holy Man, and here it is. But something has happened, I don't\nknow what, and it won't work any more.'\n\n'Well, put it down. I will go and see if I can find anything for you.'\n\nIn a few minutes the Holy Man returned with a cock under his arm.\n\n'Listen to me,' he said, 'whenever you want money, you have only to\nsay: \"Show me what you can do, cock,\" and you will see some wonderful\nthings. But, remember, it is not necessary to let all the world into\nthe secret.'\n\n'Oh no, Holy Man, I am not so foolish as that.'\n\n'Nor to tell everybody that I gave it to you,' went on the Holy Man.\n'I have not got these treasures by the dozen.'\n\nAnd without waiting for an answer he shut the door.\n\nAs before, the distance seemed to have wonderfully shortened, and in a\nmoment the tavern rose up in front of Father Grumbler. Without\nstopping to think, he went straight in, and found the innkeeper's wife\nin the kitchen making a cake.\n\n'Where have you come from, with that fine red cock in your basket,'\nasked she, for the bird was so big that the lid would not shut down\nproperly.\n\n'Oh, I come from a place where they don't keep these things by the\ndozen,' he replied, sitting down in front of the table.\n\nThe woman said no more, but set before him a bottle of his favourite\nwine, and soon he began to wish to display his prize.\n\n'Show me what you can do, cock,' cried he. And the cock stood up and\nflapped his wings three times, crowing 'coquerico' with a voice like a\ntrumpet, and at each crow there fell from his beak golden drops, and\ndiamonds as large as peas.\n\n [Illustration: 'COQUERICO'--THE WONDERFUL COCK]\n\nThis time Father Grumbler did not invite the innkeeper's wife to pick\nup his treasures, but put his own hat under the cock's beak, so as to\ncatch everything he let fall; and he did not see the husband and wife\nexchanging glances with each other which said, 'That would be a\nsplendid cock to put with our basket.'\n\n'Have another glass of wine?' suggested the innkeeper, when they had\nfinished admiring the beauty of the cock, for they pretended not to\nhave seen the gold or the diamonds. And Father Grumbler, nothing loth,\ndrank one glass after another, till his head fell forward on the\ntable, and once more he was sound asleep. Then the woman gently coaxed\nthe cock from the basket and carried it off to her own poultry yard,\nfrom which she brought one exactly like it, and popped it in its\nplace.\n\nNight was falling when the man awoke, and throwing proudly some grains\nof gold on the table to pay for the wine he had drunk, he tucked the\ncock comfortably into his basket and set out for home.\n\nHis wife and all the children were waiting for him at the door, and as\nsoon as she caught sight of him she broke out:\n\n'You are a nice man to go wasting your time and your money drinking in\nthat tavern, and leaving us to starve! Aren't you ashamed of\nyourself?'\n\n'You don't know what you are talking of,' he answered. 'Money? Why, I\nhave gold and diamonds now, as much as I want. Do you see that cock?\nWell, you have only to say to him, \"Show what you can do, cock,\" and\nsomething splendid will happen.'\n\nNeither wife nor children were inclined to put much faith in him after\ntheir last experience; however, they thought it was worth trying, and\ndid as he told them. The cock flew round the room like a mad thing,\nand crowed till their heads nearly split with the noise; but no gold\nor diamonds dropped on the brick floor--not the tiniest grain of\neither.\n\nFather Grumbler stared in silence for an instant, and then he began to\nswear so loudly that even his family, accustomed as they were to his\nlanguage, wondered at him.\n\nAt last he grew a little quieter, but remained as puzzled as ever.\n\n'Can I have forgotten the words? But I _know_ that was what he said!\nAnd I saw the diamonds with my own eyes!' Then suddenly he seized the\ncock, shut it into the basket, and rushed out of the house.\n\n [Illustration: THE HOLY MAN GIVES THE BAG TO FATHER GRUMBLER]\n\nHis heavy wooden shoes clattered as he ran along the road, and he made\nsuch haste that the stars were only just beginning to come out when he\nreached the cave of the Holy Man.\n\n'Who is that knocking?' asked a voice from within.\n\n'It is me! It is me! Holy Man! you know! Father----'\n\n'But, my good fellow, you really should give some one else a chance.\nThis is the third time you have been--and at such an hour, too!'\n\n'Oh, yes, Holy Man, I know it is very late, but you will forgive me!\nIt is your cock--there is something the matter. It is like the basket.\nLook!'\n\n'_That_ my cock? _That_ my basket? Somebody has played you a trick, my\ngood man!'\n\n'A trick?' repeated Father Grumbler, who began to understand what had\nhappened. 'Then it must have been those two----'\n\n'I warned you not to show them to anybody,' said the Holy Man. 'You\ndeserve----but I will give you one more chance.' And, turning, he\nunhooked something from the wall.\n\n'When you wish to dust your own jacket or those of your friends,' he\nsaid, 'you have only got to say, \"Flack, flick, switch, be quick,\" and\nyou will see what happens. That is all I have to tell you.' And,\nsmiling to himself, the Holy Man pushed Father Grumbler out of the\ncave.\n\n * * * * *\n\n'Ah, I understand now,' muttered the good man, as he took the road\nhome; 'but I think I have got you two rascals!' and he hurried on to\nthe tavern with his basket under his arm, and the cock and the switch\nboth inside.\n\n'Good evening, friends!' he said, as he entered the inn. 'I am very\nhungry, and should be glad if you would roast this cock for me as soon\nas possible. _This_ cock and no other--mind what I say,' he went on.\n'Oh, and another thing! You can light the fire with this basket. When\nyou have done that I will show you something I have in my bag,' and,\nas he spoke, he tried to imitate the smile that the Holy Man had given\n_him_.\n\nThese directions made the innkeeper's wife very uneasy. However, she\nsaid nothing, and began to roast the cock, while her husband did his\nbest to make the man sleepy with wine, but all in vain.\n\nAfter dinner, which he did not eat without grumbling, for the cock was\nvery tough, the man struck his hand on the table, and said: 'Now\nlisten to me. Go and fetch my cock and my basket, at once. Do you\nhear?'\n\n'Your cock, and your basket, Father Grumbler? But you have just----'\n\n'_My_ cock and _my_ basket!' interrupted he. 'And, if you are too deaf\nand too stupid to understand what that means, I have got something\nwhich may help to teach you.' And opening the bag, he cried: 'Flack!\nflick! switch, be quick.'\n\nAnd flack! flick! like lightning a white switch sprang out of the bag,\nand gave such hearty blows to the innkeeper and his wife, and to\nFather Grumbler into the bargain, that they all jumped as high as\nfeathers when a mattress is shaken.\n\n'Stop! stop! make it stop, and you shall have back your cock and\nbasket,' cried the man and his wife. And Father Grumbler, who had no\nwish to go on, called out between his hops: 'Stop then, can't you?\nThat is enough for to-day!'\n\nBut the switch paid no attention, and dealt out its blows as before,\nand _might_ have been dealing them to this day, if the Holy Man had\nnot heard their cries and come to the rescue. 'Into the bag, quick!'\nsaid he, and the switch obeyed.\n\n'Now go and fetch me the cock and the basket,' and the woman went\nwithout a word, and placed them on the table.\n\n'You have all got what you deserved,' continued the Holy Man, 'and I\nhave no pity for any of you. I shall take my treasures home, and\nperhaps some day I may find a man who knows how to make the best of\nthe chances that are given him. But that will never be _you_,' he\nadded, turning to Father Grumbler.\n\n[From _Contes Populaires_.]\n\n\n\n\n_THE STORY OF THE YARA_\n\n\nDown in the south, where the sun shines so hotly that everything and\neverybody sleeps all day, and even the great forests seem silent,\nexcept early in the morning and late in the evening--down in this\ncountry there once lived a young man and a maiden. The girl had been\nborn in the town, and had scarcely ever left it; but the young man was\na native of another country, and had only come to the city near the\ngreat river because he could find no work to do where he was.\n\nA few months after his arrival, when the days were cooler, and the\npeople did not sleep so much as usual, a great feast was held a little\nway out of the town, and to this feast everyone flocked from thirty\nmiles and more. Some walked and some rode, some came in beautiful\ngolden coaches; but all had on splendid dresses of red or blue, while\nwreaths of flowers rested on their hair.\n\nIt was the first time that the youth had been present on such an\noccasion, and he stood silently aside watching the graceful dances and\nthe pretty games played by the young people. And as he watched, he\nnoticed one girl, dressed in white with scarlet pomegranates in her\nhair, who seemed to him lovelier than all the rest.\n\nWhen the feast was over, and the young man returned home, his manner\nwas so strange that it drew the attention of all his friends.\n\nThrough his work next day the youth continued to see the girl's face,\nthrowing the ball to her companions, or threading her way between\nthem as she danced. At night sleep fled from him, and after tossing\nfor hours on his bed, he would get up and plunge into a deep pool that\nlay a little way in the forest.\n\nThis state of things went on for some weeks, then at last chance\nfavoured him. One evening, as he was passing near the house where she\nlived, he saw her standing with her back to the wall, trying to beat\noff with her fan the attacks of a savage dog that was leaping at her\nthroat. Alonzo, for such was his name, sprang forward, and with one\nblow of his fist stretched the creature dead upon the road. He then\nhelped the frightened and half-fainting girl into the large cool\nverandah where her parents were sitting, and from that hour he was a\nwelcome guest in the house, and it was not long before he was the\npromised husband of Julia.\n\nEvery day, when his work was done, he used to go up to the house, half\nhidden among flowering plants and brilliant creepers, where\nhumming-birds darted from bush to bush, and parrots of all colours,\nred and green and grey, shrieked in chorus. There he would find the\nmaiden waiting for him, and they would spend an hour or two under the\nstars, which looked so large and bright that you felt as if you could\nalmost touch them.\n\n'What did you do last night after you went home?' suddenly asked the\ngirl one evening.\n\n'Just the same as I always do,' answered he. 'It was too hot to sleep,\nso it was no use going to bed, and I walked straight off to the forest\nand bathed in one of those deep dark pools at the edge of the river. I\nhave been there constantly for several months, but last night a\nstrange thing happened. I was taking my last plunge, when I\nheard--sometimes from one side, and sometimes from another--the sound\nof a voice singing more sweetly than any nightingale, though I could\nnot catch any words. I left the pool, and, dressing myself as fast as\nI could, I searched every bush and tree round the water, as I fancied\nthat perhaps it was my friend who was playing a trick on me, but there\nwas not a creature to be seen; and when I reached home I found my\nfriend fast asleep.'\n\nAs Julia listened her face grew deadly white, and her whole body\nshivered as if with cold. From her childhood she had heard stories of\nthe terrible beings that lived in the forests and were hidden under\nthe banks of the rivers, and could only be kept off by powerful\ncharms. Could the voice which had bewitched Alonzo have come from one\nof these? Perhaps, who knows, it might be the voice of the dreaded\nYara herself, who sought young men on the eve of their marriage as her\nprey.\n\nFor a moment the girl sat choked with fear, as these thoughts rushed\nthrough her; then she said: 'Alonzo, will you promise me something?'\n\n'What is that?' asked he.\n\n'It is something that has to do with our future happiness.'\n\n'Oh! it is serious, then? Well, of course I promise. Now tell me!'\n\n'I want you to promise,' she answered, lowering her voice to a\nwhisper, 'never to bathe in those pools again.'\n\n'But why not, queen of my soul; have I not gone there always, and\nnothing has harmed me, flower of my heart?'\n\n'No; but perhaps something will. If you will not promise I shall go\nmad with fright. Promise me.'\n\n'Why, what is the matter? You look so pale! Tell me why you are so\nfrightened?'\n\n'Did you not hear the song?' she asked, trembling.\n\n'Suppose I did, how could that hurt me? It was the loveliest song I\never heard!'\n\n'Yes, and after the song will come the apparition; and after\nthat--after that----'\n\n'I don't understand. Well--after that?'\n\n'After that--death.'\n\nAlonzo stared at her. Had she really gone mad? Such talk was very\nunlike Julia; but before he could collect his senses the girl spoke\nagain:\n\n'That is the reason why I implore you never to go there again; at any\nrate till after we are married.'\n\n'And what difference will our marriage make?'\n\n'Oh, there will be no danger then; you can go to bathe as often as you\nlike!'\n\n'But tell me why you are so afraid?'\n\n'Because the voice you heard--I know you will laugh, but it is quite\ntrue--it was the voice of the Yara.'\n\nAt these words Alonzo burst into a shout of laughter; but it sounded\nso harsh and loud that Julia shrank away shuddering. It seemed as if\nhe could not stop himself, and the more he laughed the paler the poor\ngirl became, murmuring to herself as she watched him:\n\n'Oh, heaven! you have seen her! you have seen her! what shall I do?'\n\nFaint as was her whisper, it reached the ears of Alonzo, who, though\nhe still could not speak for laughing, shook his head.\n\n'You may not know it, but it is true. Nobody who has not seen the Yara\nlaughs like that.' And Julia flung herself on the ground weeping\nbitterly.\n\nAt this sight Alonzo became suddenly grave, and kneeling by her side,\ngently raised her up.\n\n'Do not cry so, my angel,' he said, 'I will promise anything you\nplease. Only let me see you smile again.'\n\nWith a great effort Julia checked her sobs, and rose to her feet.\n\n'Thank you,' she answered. 'My heart grows lighter as you say that! I\nknow you will try to keep your word and to stay away from the forest.\nBut--the power of the Yara is very strong, and the sound of her voice\nis apt to make men forget everything else in the world. Oh, I have\nseen it, and more than one betrothed maiden lives alone,\nbroken-hearted. If ever you should return to the pool where you first\nheard the voice, promise me that you will at least take this with\nyou.' And opening a curiously carved box, she took out a sea-shell\nshot with many colours, and sang a song softly into it. 'The moment\nyou hear the Yara's voice,' said she, 'put this to your ear, and you\nwill hear my song instead. Perhaps--I do not know for certain--but\nperhaps, I may be stronger than the Yara.'\n\n [Illustration: JULIA SINGS HER SONG INTO THE SHELL]\n\nIt was late that night when Alonzo returned home. The moon was shining\non the distant river, which looked cool and inviting, and the trees of\nthe forest seemed to stretch out their arms and beckon him near. But\nthe young man steadily turned his face in the other direction, and\nwent home to bed.\n\nThe struggle had been hard, but Alonzo had his reward next day in the\njoy and relief with which Julia greeted him. He assured her that\nhaving overcome the temptation once the danger was now over; but she,\nknowing better than he did the magic of the Yara's face and voice, did\nnot fail to make him repeat his promise when he went away.\n\nFor three nights Alonzo kept his word, not because he believed in the\nYara, for he thought that the tales about her were all nonsense, but\nbecause he could not bear the tears with which he knew that Julia\nwould greet him, if he confessed that he had returned to the forest.\nBut, in spite of this, the song rang in his ears, and daily grew\nlouder.\n\nOn the fourth night the attraction of the forest grew so strong that\nneither the thought of Julia nor the promises he had made her could\nhold him back. At eleven o'clock he plunged into the cool darkness of\nthe trees, and took the path that led straight to the river. Yet, for\nthe first time, he found that Julia's warnings, though he had laughed\nat her at the moment, had remained in his memory, and he glanced at\nthe bushes with a certain sense of fear which was quite new to him.\n\nWhen he reached the river he paused and looked round for a moment to\nmake sure that the strange feeling of some one watching him was fancy,\nand he was really alone. But the moon shone brightly on every tree,\nand nothing was to be seen but his own shadow; nothing was to be heard\nbut the sound of the rippling stream.\n\nHe threw off his clothes, and was just about to dive in headlong,\nwhen something--he did not know what--suddenly caused him to look\nround. At the same instant the moon passed from behind a cloud, and\nits rays fell on a beautiful golden-haired woman standing half hidden\nby the ferns.\n\nWith one bound he caught up his mantle, and rushed headlong down the\npath he had come, fearing at each step to feel a hand laid on his\nshoulder. It was not till he had left the last trees behind him, and\nwas standing in the open plain, that he dared to look round, and then\nhe thought a figure in white was still standing there waving her arms\nto and fro. This was enough; he ran along the road harder than ever,\nand never paused till he was safe in his own room.\n\nWith the earliest rays of dawn he went back to the forest to see\nwhether he could find any traces of the Yara, but though he searched\nevery clump of bushes, and looked up every tree, everything was empty,\nand the only voices he heard were those of parrots, which are so ugly\nthat they only drive people away.\n\n'I think I must be mad,' he said to himself, 'and have dreamt all that\nfolly'; and going back to the city he began his daily work. But either\nthat was harder than usual, or he must be ill, for he could not fix\nhis mind upon it, and everybody he came across during the day inquired\nif anything had happened to give him that white, frightened look.\n\n'I must be feverish,' he said to himself; 'after all, it is rather\ndangerous to take a cold bath when one is feeling so hot.' Yet he\nknew, while he said it, that he was counting the hours for night to\ncome, that he might return to the forest.\n\nIn the evening he went as usual to the creeper-covered house. But he\nhad better have stayed away, as his face was so pale and his manner so\nstrange, that the poor girl saw that something terrible had occurred.\nAlonzo, however, refused to answer any of her questions, and all\nshe could get was a promise to hear everything next day.\n\n [Illustration: THE YARA DEFEATED]\n\nOn pretence of a violent headache, he left Julia much earlier than\nusual and hurried quickly home. Taking down a pistol, he loaded it and\nput it in his belt, and a little before midnight he stole out on the\ntips of his toes, so as to disturb nobody. Once outside he hastened\ndown the road which led to the forest.\n\nHe did not stop till he had reached the river pool, when, holding the\npistol in his hand, he looked about him. At every little noise--the\nfalling of a leaf, the rustle of an animal in the bushes, the cry of a\nnight-bird--he sprang up and cocked his pistol in the direction of the\nsound. But though the moon still shone he saw nothing, and by and by a\nkind of dreamy state seemed to steal over him as he leant against a\ntree.\n\nHow long he remained in this condition he could not have told, but\nsuddenly he awoke with a start, on hearing his name uttered softly.\n\n'Who is that?' he cried, standing upright instantly; but only an echo\nanswered him. Then his eyes grew fascinated with the dark waters of\nthe pool close to his feet, and he looked at it as if he could never\nlook away.\n\nHe gazed steadily into the depths for some minutes, when he became\naware that down in the darkness was a bright spark, which got rapidly\nbigger and brighter. Again that feeling of awful fear took possession\nof him, and he tried to turn his eyes from the pool. But it was no\nuse; something stronger than himself compelled him to keep them there.\n\nAt last the waters parted softly, and floating on the surface he saw\nthe beautiful woman whom he had fled from only a few nights before. He\nturned to run, but his feet were glued to the spot.\n\nShe smiled at him and held out her arms, but as she did so there came\nover him the remembrance of Julia, as he had seen her a few hours\nearlier, and her warnings and fears for the very danger in which he\nnow found himself.\n\nMeanwhile the figure was always drawing nearer, nearer; but, with a\nviolent effort, Alonzo shook off his stupor, and taking aim at her\nshoulder he pulled the trigger. The report awoke the sleeping echoes,\nand was repeated all through the forest, but the figure smiled still,\nand went on advancing. Again Alonzo fired, and a second time the\nbullet whistled through the air, and the figure advanced nearer. A\nmoment more, and she would be at his side.\n\nThen, his pistol being empty, he grasped the barrel with both hands,\nand stood ready to use it as a club should the Yara approach any\ncloser. But now it seemed her turn to feel afraid, for she paused for\nan instant while he pressed forward, still holding the pistol above\nhis head, prepared to strike.\n\nIn his excitement he had forgotten the river, and it was not till the\ncold water touched his feet that he stood still by instinct. The Yara\nsaw that he was wavering, and suffering herself to sway gently\nbackwards and forwards on the surface of the river, she began to sing.\nThe song floated through the trees, now far and now near; no one could\ntell whence it came, the whole air seemed full of it. Alonzo felt his\nsenses going and his will failing. His arms dropped heavily to his\nside, but in falling struck against the sea shell, which, as he had\npromised Julia, he had always carried in his coat.\n\nHis dimmed mind was just clear enough to remember what she had said,\nand with trembling fingers, that were almost powerless to grasp, he\ndrew it out. As he did so the song grew sweeter and more tender than\nbefore, but he shut his ears to it and bent his head over the shell.\nOut of its depths arose the voice of Julia singing to him as she had\nsung when she gave him the shell, and though the notes sounded faint\nat first, they swelled louder and louder till the mist which had\ngathered about him was blown away.\n\nThen he raised his head, feeling that he had been through strange\nplaces, where he could never wander any more; and he held himself\nerect and strong, and looked about him. Nothing was to be seen but the\nshining of the river, and the dark shadows of the trees; nothing was\nto be heard but the hum of the insects, as they darted through the\nnight.\n\n[Adapted from _Folklore Br\u00e9silien_.]\n\n\n\n\n_THE CUNNING HARE_\n\n\nIn a very cold country, far across the seas, where ice and snow cover\nthe ground for many months in the year, there lived a little hare,\nwho, as his father and mother were both dead, was brought up by his\ngrandmother. As he was too young, and she was too old, to work, they\nwere very poor, and often did not have enough to eat.\n\nOne day, when the little fellow was hungrier than usual, he asked his\ngrandmother if he might not go down to the river and catch a fish for\ntheir breakfast, as the thaw had come and the water was flowing freely\nagain. She laughed at him for thinking that any fish would let itself\nbe caught by a hare, especially such a young one; but as she had the\nrheumatism very badly, and could get no food herself, she let him go.\n'If he does not catch a fish he may find something else,' she said to\nherself. So she told her grandson where to look for the net, and how\nhe was to set it across the river; but just as he was starting,\nfeeling himself quite a man, she called him back.\n\n'After all, I don't know what is the use of your going, my boy! For\neven if you should catch a fish, I have no fire to cook it with.'\n\n'Let me catch my fish, and I will soon make you a fire,' he answered\ngaily, for he was young, and knew nothing about the difficulties of\nfire-making.\n\nIt took him some time to haul the net through bushes and over fields,\nbut at length he reached a pool in the river which he had often heard\nwas swarming with fish, and here he set the net, as his grandmother\nhad directed him.\n\n [Illustration: THE LITTLE HARE IS CAUGHT]\n\nHe was so excited that he hardly slept all night, and at the very\nfirst streak of dawn he ran as fast as ever he could down to the\nriver. His heart beat as quickly as if he had had dogs behind him, and\nhe hardly dared to look, lest he should be disappointed. Would there\nbe even one fish? And at this thought the pangs of hunger made him\nfeel quite sick with fear. But he need not have been afraid; in every\nmesh of the net was a fine fat fish, and of course the net itself was\nso heavy that he could only lift one corner. He threw some of the fish\nback into the water, and buried some more in a hole under a stone,\nwhere he would be sure to find them. Then he rolled up the net with\nthe rest, put it on his back and carried it home. The weight of the\nload caused his back to ache, and he was thankful to drop it outside\ntheir hut, while he rushed in, full of joy, to tell his grandmother.\n'Be quick and clean them!' he said, 'and I will go to those people's\ntents on the other side of the water.'\n\nThe old woman stared at him in horror as she listened to his proposal.\nOther people had tried to steal fire before, and few indeed had come\nback with their lives; but as, contrary to all her expectations, he\nhad managed to catch such a number of fish, she thought that perhaps\nthere was some magic about him which she did not know of, and did not\ntry to hinder him.\n\nWhen the fish were all taken out, he fetched the net which he had laid\nout to dry, folded it up very small, and ran down to the river, hoping\nthat he might find a place narrow enough for him to jump over; but he\nsoon saw that it was too wide for even the best jumper in the world.\nFor a few moments he stood there, wondering what was to be done, then\nthere darted into his head some words of a spell which he had once\nheard a wizard use, while drinking from the river. He repeated them,\nas well as he could remember, and waited to see what would happen. In\nfive minutes such a grunting and a puffing was heard, and columns of\nwater rose into the air, though he could not tell what had made them.\nThen round the bend of the stream came fifteen huge whales, which he\nordered to place themselves heads to tails, like stepping stones, so\nthat he could jump from one to the other till he landed on the\nopposite shore. Directly he got there he told the whales that he did\nnot need them any more, and sat down in the sand to rest.\n\nUnluckily some children who were playing about caught sight of him,\nand one of them, stealing softly up behind him, laid tight hold of his\nears. The hare, who had been watching the whales as they sailed down\nthe river, gave a violent start, and struggled to get away; but the\nboy held on tight, and ran back home, as fast as he could go.\n\n'Throw it in the pot,' said the old woman, as soon as he had told his\nstory; 'put it in that basket, and as soon as the water boils in the\npot we will hang it over the fire!'\n\n'Better kill it first,' said the old man; and the hare listened,\nhorribly frightened, but still looking secretly to see if there was no\nhole through which he could escape, if he had a chance of doing so.\nYes, there was one, right in the top of the tent, so, shaking himself,\nas if with fright, he let the end of his net unroll itself a little.\n\n'I wish that a spark of fire would fall on my net,' whispered he; and\nthe next minute a great log fell forward into the midst of the tent,\ncausing every one to spring backwards. The sparks were scattered in\nevery direction, and one fell on the net, making a little blaze. In an\ninstant the hare had leaped through the hole, and was racing towards\nthe river, with men, women, and children after him. There was no time\nto call back the whales, so, holding the net tight in his mouth, he\nwished himself across the river. Then he jumped high into the air, and\nlanded safe on the other side, and after turning round to be sure\nthat there was no chance of anyone pursuing him, trotted happily home\nto his grandmother.\n\n'Didn't I tell you I would bring you fire?' said he, holding up his\nnet, which was now burning briskly.\n\n'But how did you cross the water?' inquired the old woman.\n\n'Oh, I just jumped!' said he. And his grandmother asked him no more\nquestions, for she saw that he was wiser than she.\n\n['Indian Folk Tales.' _Bureau of Ethnology._]\n\n\n\n\n_THE TURTLE AND HIS BRIDE_\n\n\nThere was once a turtle who lived among a great many people of\ndifferent kinds, in a large camp near a big river which was born right\nup amongst the snows, and flowed straight away south till it reached a\nsea where the water was always hot.\n\nThere were many other turtles in the camp, and this turtle was kind\nand pleasant to them all, but he did not care for any of them very\nmuch, and felt rather lonely.\n\nAt last he built himself a hut, and filled it with skins for seats,\nand made it as comfortable as any hut for miles round; and when it was\nquite finished he looked about among the young women to see which of\nthem he should ask to be his wife.\n\nIt took him some time to make up his mind, for no turtle likes being\nhurried, but at length he found one girl who seemed prettier and more\nindustrious than the rest, and one day he entered her home, and said:\n'Will you marry me?'\n\nThe young woman was so surprised at this question that she dropped the\nbeaded slipper she was making, and stared at the turtle. She felt\ninclined to laugh--the idea was so absurd; but she was kind-hearted\nand polite, so she looked as grave as she could, and answered:\n\n'But how are you going to provide for a family? Why, when the camp\nmoves, you will not even be able to keep up with the rest!'\n\n'I can keep up with the best of them,' replied the turtle, tossing\nhis head. But though he was very much offended he did not let the girl\nsee it, and begged and prayed her so hard to marry him that, at last,\nshe consented, very unwillingly.\n\n'You will have to wait till the spring, though,' she said; 'I must\nmake a great many slippers and dresses for myself, as I shall not have\nmuch time afterwards.'\n\nThis did not please the turtle; but he knew it was no use talking, so\nall he answered was:\n\n'I shall go to war and take some captives, and I shall be away several\nmonths. And when I return I shall expect you to be ready to marry me.'\n\nSo he went back to his hut, and at once set about his preparations.\nThe first thing he did was to call all his relations together, and ask\nthem if they would come with him and make war on the people of a\nneighbouring village. The turtles, who were tired of doing nothing,\nagreed at once, and next day the whole tribe left the camp. The girl\nwas standing at the door of her hut as they passed, and laughed out\nloud--they moved so slowly. Her lover, who was marching at the head,\ngrew very angry at this, and cried out:\n\n'In four days from now you will be weeping instead of laughing,\nbecause there will be hundreds of miles between you and me.'\n\n'In four days,' replied the girl--who had only promised to marry him\nin order to get rid of him--'in four days you will hardly be out of\nsight.'\n\n'Oh, I did not mean four days, but four _years_,' answered the turtle,\nhastily; 'whatever happens I shall be back by then.'\n\nThe army marched on, till one day, when they felt as if they must have\ngot half round the earth, though they were scarcely four miles from\nthe camp, they found a large tree lying across their path. They looked\nat it with dismay, and the oldest among them put their heads together\nto see what was to be done.\n\n'Can't we manage to get past by the top?' asked one.\n\n [Illustration: THE GIRL LAUGHS AT THE ARMY OF TURTLES]\n\n'Why, it would take us _years_,' exclaimed another. 'Just look at all\nthose tall green branches, spreading in every direction. If once we\ngot entangled in _them_, we should never get out again!'\n\n'Well then, let us go round by the bottom,' said a third.\n\n'How are we to do that, when the roots have made a deep hole, and\nabove that is a high bank?' replied a fourth. 'No; the only way _I_\ncan think of, is to burn a large hole in the trunk.' And this they\ndid, but the trunk was very thick, and would not burn through.\n\n * * * * *\n\n'It is no use, we must give it up,' they agreed at last. 'After all,\nnobody need ever know! We have been away such a long while that we\nmight easily have had all sorts of adventures.' And so the whole\ncompany turned homewards again.\n\nThey took even longer to go back than they had to come, for they were\ntired and footsore with their journey. When they drew near the camp\nthey plucked up their courage, and began to sing a war-song. At this\nthe villagers came flocking to see what spoils the turtles had won,\nbut, as they approached, each turtle seized some one by the wrist,\nexclaiming: 'You are our spoils; you are our prisoners!'\n\n'Now that I have got you I will keep you,' said the leader, who had\nhappened to seize his betrothed.\n\nEverybody was naturally very angry at this behaviour, and the girl\nmost of all, and in her secret heart she determined to have her\nrevenge. But, just at present, the turtles were too strong, so the\nprisoners had to put on their smartest slippers and their brightest\nclothes, and dance a war dance while the turtles sang. They danced so\nlong that it seemed as if they would never stop, till the turtle who\nwas leading the singing suddenly broke into a loud chant:\n\n Whoever comes here, will die, will die!\n\nAt this all the dancers grew so frightened that they burst through\nthe ring of their captors, and ran back to the village, the turtles\nfollowing--very slowly. On the way the chief turtle met a man, who\nsaid to him:\n\n'That woman who was to have been your wife has married another man!'\n\n'Is that true?' said the turtle. 'Then I must see him.'\n\nBut as soon as the villager was out of sight the turtle stopped, and\ntaking a bundle containing fringes and ornaments from his back, he\nhung them about him, so that they rattled as he walked. When he was\nquite close to the hut where the woman lived, he cried out:\n\n'Here I am to claim the woman who promised to be my wife.'\n\n'Oh, here is the turtle,' whispered the husband hurriedly; 'what is to\nbe done now?'\n\n'Leave that to me; I will manage him,' replied the wife, and at that\nmoment the turtle came in, and seized her by the wrist. 'Come with\nme,' he said sternly.\n\n'You broke your promise,' answered she. 'You said you would be back\nsoon, and it is more than a year since you went! How was I to know\nthat you were alive?'\n\nAt her words the husband took courage, and spoke hastily:\n\n'Yes, you promised you would go to war and bring back some prisoners,\nand you have not done it.'\n\n'I _did_ go, and made many prisoners,' retorted the turtle angrily,\ndrawing out his knife. 'Look here, if she won't be _my_ wife, she\nsha'n't be _yours_. I will cut her in two; and you shall have one\nhalf, and I the other.'\n\n'But half a woman is no use to me,' answered the man. 'If you want her\nso much you had better take her.' And the turtle, followed by his\nrelations, carried her off to his own hut.\n\n [Illustration: THE TURTLE OUTWITTED]\n\nNow the woman saw she would gain nothing by being sulky, so she\npretended to be very glad to have got rid of her husband; but all the\nwhile she was trying to invent a plan to deliver herself from the\nturtle. At length she remembered that one of her friends had a large\niron pot, and when the turtle had gone to his room to put away his\nfringes, she ran over to her neighbour's and brought it back. Then she\nfilled it with water and hung it over the fire to boil. It was just\nbeginning to bubble and hiss when the turtle entered.\n\n'What are you doing there?' asked he, for he was always afraid of\nthings that he did not understand.\n\n'Just warming some water,' she answered. 'Do you know how to swim?'\n\n'Yes, of course I do. What a question! But what does it matter to\nyou?' said the turtle, more suspicious than ever.\n\n'Oh, I only thought that after your long journey you might like to\nwash. The roads are so muddy, after the winter's rains. I could rub\nyour shell for you till it was bright and shining again.'\n\n'Well, I _am_ rather muddy. If one is fighting, you know, one cannot\nstop to pick one's way. I should certainly be more comfortable if my\nback was washed.'\n\nThe woman did not wait for him to change his mind. She caught him up\nby his shell and popped him straight into the pot, where he sank to\nthe bottom, and died instantly.\n\nThe other turtles, who were standing at the door, saw their leader\ndisappear, and felt it was their duty as soldiers to follow him; and,\nspringing into the pot, died too. All but one young turtle, who,\nfrightened at not seeing any of his friends come out again, went as\nfast as he could to a clump of bushes, and from there made his way to\nthe river. His only thought was to get away as far as possible from\nthat dreadful hut; so he let the river carry him where it was going\nitself, and at last, one day, he found himself in the warm sea, where,\nif he is not dead, you may meet him still.\n\n[_Bureau of Ethnology._]\n\n\n\n\n_HOW GEIRALD THE COWARD WAS PUNISHED_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a poor knight who had a great many\nchildren, and found it very hard to get enough for them to eat. One\nday he sent his eldest son, Rosald, a brave and honest youth, to the\nneighbouring town to do some business, and here Rosald met a young man\nnamed Geirald, with whom he made friends.\n\nNow Geirald was the son of a rich man, who was proud of the boy, and\nhad all his life allowed him to do whatever he fancied, and, luckily\nfor the father, he was prudent and sensible, and did not waste money,\nas many other rich young men might have done. For some time he had set\nhis heart on travelling into foreign countries, and after he had been\ntalking for a little while to Rosald, he asked if his new friend would\nbe his companion on his journey.\n\n'There is nothing I should like better,' answered Rosald, shaking his\nhead sorrowfully; 'but my father is very poor, and he could never give\nme the money.'\n\n'Oh, if that is your only difficulty, it is all right,' cried Geirald.\n'My father has more money than he knows what to do with, and he will\ngive me as much as I want for both of us; only, there is one thing you\nmust promise me, Rosald, that, supposing we have any adventures, you\nwill let the honour and glory of them fall to me.'\n\n'Yes, of course, that is only fair,' answered Rosald, who never cared\nabout putting himself forward. 'But I cannot go without telling my\nparents. I am sure they will think me lucky to get such a chance.'\n\nAs soon as the business was finished, Rosald hastened home. His\nparents were delighted to hear of his good fortune, and his father\ngave him his own sword, which was growing rusty for want of use, while\nhis mother saw that his leather jerkin was in order.\n\n'Be sure you keep the promise you made to Geirald,' said she, as she\nbade him good-bye, 'and, come what may, see that you never betray\nhim.'\n\nFull of joy Rosald rode off, and the next day he and Geirald started\noff to seek adventures. To their disappointment their own land was so\nwell governed that nothing out of the common was very likely to\nhappen, but directly they crossed the border into another kingdom all\nseemed lawlessness and confusion.\n\nThey had not gone very far, when, riding across a mountain, they\ncaught a glimpse of several armed men hiding amongst some trees in\ntheir path, and remembered suddenly some talk they had heard of a band\nof twelve robbers who lay in wait for rich travellers. The robbers\nwere more like savage beasts than men, and lived somewhere at the top\nof the mountain in caves and holes in the ground. They were all called\n'Hankur,' and were distinguished one from another by the name of a\ncolour--blue, grey, red, and so on, except their chief, who was known\nas Hankur the Tall. All this and more rushed into the minds of the two\nyoung men as they saw the flash of their swords in the moonlight.\n\n'It is impossible to fight them--they are twelve to two,' whispered\nGeirald, stopping his horse in the path. 'We had much better ride back\nand take the lower road. It would be stupid to throw away our lives\nlike this.'\n\n'Oh, we can't turn back,' answered Rosald, 'we should be ashamed to\nlook anyone in the face again! And, besides, it is a grand opportunity\nto show what we are made of. Let us tie up our horses here, and climb\nup the rocks so that we can roll stones down on them.'\n\n'Well, we might try that, and then we shall always have our horses,'\nsaid Geirald. So they went up the rocks silently and carefully.\n\nThe robbers were lying all ready, expecting every moment to see their\nvictims coming round the corner a few yards away, when a shower of\nhuge stones fell on their heads, killing half the band. The others\nsprang up the rock, but as they reached the top the sword of Rosald\nswung round, and one man after another rolled down into the valley. At\nlast the chief managed to spring up, and, grasping Rosald by the\nwaist, flung away his sword, and the two fought desperately, their\nbodies swaying always nearer the edge. It seemed as if Rosald, being\nthe smaller of the two, _must_ fall over, when, with his left hand, he\ndrew the robber's sword out of its sheath and plunged it into his\nheart. Then he took from the dead man a beautiful ring set with a\nlarge stone, and put it on his own finger.\n\nThe fame of this wonderful deed soon spread through the country, and\npeople would often stop Geirald's horse, and ask leave to see the\nrobber's ring, which was said to have been stolen from the father of\nthe reigning king. And Geirald showed them the ring with pride, and\nlistened to their words of praise, and no one would ever have guessed\nanyone else had destroyed the robbers.\n\nIn a few days they left that kingdom and rode on to another, where\nthey thought they would stop through the remainder of the winter, for\nGeirald liked to be comfortable, and did not care about travelling\nthrough ice and snow. But the king would only grant them leave to stop\non condition that, before the winter was ended, they should give him\nsome fresh proof of the courage of which he had heard so much.\nRosald's heart was glad at the king's message, and as for Geirald, he\nfelt that as long as Rosald was there all would go well. So they both\nbowed low and replied that it was the king's place to command and\ntheirs to obey.\n\n'Well, then,' said his Majesty, 'this is what I want you to do: In\nthe north-east part of my kingdom there dwells a giant, who has an\niron staff twenty yards long, and he is so quick in using it, that\neven fifty knights have no chance against him. The bravest and\nstrongest young men of my court have fallen under the blows of that\nstaff; but, as you overcame the twelve robbers so easily, I feel that\nI have reason to hope that you may be able to conquer the giant. In\nthree days from this you will set out.'\n\n'We will be ready, your Majesty,' answered Rosald; but Geirald\nremained silent.\n\n * * * * *\n\n'How can we possibly fight against a giant that has killed fifty\nknights?' cried Geirald, when they were outside the castle. 'The king\nonly wants to get rid of us! He won't think about us for the next\nthree days--that is one comfort--so we shall have plenty of time to\ncross the borders of the kingdom and be out of his reach.'\n\n'We mayn't be able to kill the giant, but we certainly can't run away\ntill we have tried,' answered Rosald. 'Besides, think how glorious it\nwill be if we _do_ manage to kill him! I know what sort of weapon I\nshall use. Come with me now, and I will see about it.' And, taking his\nfriend by the arm, he led him into a shop where he bought a huge lump\nof solid iron, so big that they could hardly lift it between them.\nHowever, they just managed to carry it to a blacksmith's where Rosald\ndirected that it should be beaten into a thick club, with a sharp\nspike at one end. When this was done to his liking he took it home\nunder his arm.\n\n * * * * *\n\nVery early on the third morning the two young men started on their\njourney, and on the fourth day they reached the giant's cave before he\nwas out of bed. Hearing the sound of footsteps, the giant got up and\nwent to the entrance to see who was coming, and Rosald, expecting\nsomething of the sort, struck him such a blow on the forehead that he\nfell to the ground. Then, before he could rise to his feet again,\nRosald drew out his sword and cut off his head.\n\n'It was not so difficult after all, you see,' he said, turning to\nGeirald. And placing the giant's head in a leathern wallet which was\nslung over his back, they began their journey to the castle.\n\nAs they drew near the gates, Rosald took the head from the wallet and\nhanded it to Geirald, whom he followed into the king's presence.\n\n'The giant will trouble you no more,' said Geirald, holding out the\nhead. And the king fell on his neck and kissed him, and cried joyfully\nthat he was the bravest knight in all the world, and that a feast\nshould be made for him and Rosald, and that the great deed should be\nproclaimed throughout the kingdom. And Geirald's heart swelled with\npride, and he almost forgot that it was Rosald and not he, who had\nslain the giant.\n\nBy-and-by a whisper went round that a beautiful lady who lived in the\ncastle would be present at the feast, with twenty-four lovely maidens,\nher attendants. The lady was the queen of her own country, but as her\nfather and mother had died when she was a little girl, she had been\nleft in the care of this king who was her uncle.\n\nShe was now old enough to govern her own kingdom, but her subjects did\nnot like being ruled by a woman, and said that she must find a husband\nto help her in managing her affairs. Prince after prince had offered\nhimself, but the young queen would have nothing to say to any of them,\nand at last told her ministers that if she was to have a husband at\nall she must choose him for herself, as she would certainly not marry\nany of those whom they had selected for her. The ministers replied\nthat in that case she had better manage her kingdom alone, and the\nqueen, who knew nothing about business, got things into such a\nconfusion that at last she threw them up altogether, and went off to\nher uncle.\n\nNow when she heard how the two young men had slain the giant, her\nheart was filled with admiration of their courage, and she declared\nthat if a feast was held she would certainly be present at it.\n\n [Illustration: 'THE GIANT WILL TROUBLE YOU NO MORE,' SAID GEIRALD]\n\nAnd so she was; and when the feast was over she asked the king, her\nguardian, if he would allow the two heroes who had killed the robbers\nand slain the giant to fight a tourney the next day with one of her\npages. The king gladly gave his consent, and ordered the lists to be\nmade ready, never doubting that two great champions would be eager for\nsuch a chance of adding to their fame. Little did he guess that\nGeirald had done all he could to persuade Rosald to steal secretly out\nof the castle during the night, 'for,' said he, 'I don't believe they\nare pages at all, but well-proved knights, and how can we, so young\nand untried, stand up against them?'\n\n'The honour will be all the higher if we gain the day,' answered\nRosald; but Geirald would listen to nothing, and only declared that he\ndid not care about honour, and would rather be alive than have every\nhonour in the world heaped on him. Go he would, and as Rosald had\nsworn to give him his company, he must come with him.\n\nRosald was much grieved when he heard these words, but he knew that it\nwas useless attempting to persuade Geirald, and turned his thoughts to\nforming some plan to prevent this disgraceful flight. Suddenly his\nface brightened. 'Let us change clothes,' he said, 'and _I_ will do\nthe fighting, while you shall get the glory. Nobody will ever know.'\nAnd to this Geirald readily consented.\n\nWhether Geirald was right or not in thinking that the so-called page\nwas really a well-proved knight, it is certain that Rosald's task was\na very hard one. Three times they came together with a crash which\nmade their horses reel; once Rosald knocked the helmet off his foe,\nand received in return such a blow that he staggered in his saddle.\nShouts went up from the lookers-on, as first one and then the other\nseemed gaining the victory; but at length Rosald planted his spear in\nthe armour which covered his adversary's breast and bore him steadily\nbackward. 'Unhorsed! unhorsed!' cried the people; and Rosald then\nhimself dismounted and helped his adversary to rise.\n\n [Illustration: GEIRALD CLAIMS HIS REWARD AND THE QUEEN DEMANDS\n ANOTHER TEST]\n\nIn the confusion that followed it was easy for Rosald to slip away\nand return Geirald his proper clothes. And in these, torn and dusty\nwith the fight, Geirald answered the king's summons to come before\nhim.\n\n'You have done what I expected you to do,' said he, 'and now, choose\nyour reward.'\n\n'Grant me, sire, the hand of the queen, your niece,' replied the young\nman, bowing low, 'and I will defend her kingdom against all her\nenemies.'\n\n'She could choose no better husband,' said the king, 'and if she\nconsents I do.' And he turned towards the queen, who had not been\npresent during the fight, but had just slipped into a seat by his\nright hand. Now the queen's eyes were very sharp, and it seemed to her\nthat the man who stood before her, tall and handsome though he might\nbe, was different in many slight ways, and in one in particular, from\nthe man who had fought the tourney. How there could be any trickery\nshe could not understand, and why the real victor should be willing to\ngive up his prize to another was still stranger; but something in her\nheart warned her to be careful. She answered: 'You may be satisfied,\nuncle, but _I_ am not. One more proof I must have; let the two young\nmen now fight against each other. The man _I_ marry must be the man\nwho killed the robbers and the giant, and overcame my page.' Geirald's\nface grew pale as he heard these words. He knew there was no escape\nfor him now, though he did not doubt for one moment that Rosald would\nkeep his compact loyally to the last. But how would it be possible\nthat even Rosald should deceive the watchful eyes of the king and his\ncourt, and still more those of the young queen whom he felt uneasily\nhad suspected him from the first?\n\nThe tourney was fought, and in spite of Geirald's fears Rosald managed\nto hang back to make attacks which were never meant to succeed, and to\nallow strokes which he could easily have parried to attain their end.\nAt length, after a great show of resistance, he fell heavily to the\nground. And as he fell he knew that it was not alone the glory that\nwas his rightfully which he gave up, but the hand of the queen that\nwas more precious still.\n\nBut Geirald did not even wait to see if he was wounded; he went\nstraight to the wall where the royal banner waved and claimed the\nreward which was now his.\n\nThe crowd of watchers turned towards the queen, expecting to see her\nstoop and give some token to the victor. Instead, to the surprise of\neveryone, she merely smiled gracefully, and said that before she\nbestowed her hand one more test must be imposed, but this should be\nthe last. The final tourney should be fought; Geirald and Rosald\nshould meet singly two knights of the king's court, and he who could\nunhorse his foe should be master of herself and of her kingdom. The\ncombat was fixed to take place at ten o'clock the following day.\n\nAll night long Geirald walked about his room, not daring to face the\nfight that lay in front of him, and trying with all his might to\ndiscover some means of escaping it. All night long he moved restlessly\nfrom door to window; and when the trumpets sounded, and the combatants\nrode into the field, he alone was missing. The king sent messengers to\nsee what had become of him, and he was found, trembling with fear,\nhiding under his bed. After that there was no need of any further\nproof. The combat was declared unnecessary, and the queen pronounced\nherself quite satisfied, and ready to accept Rosald as her husband.\n\n'You forgot one thing,' she said, when they were alone. 'I recognised\nmy father's ring which Hankur the Tall had stolen, on the finger of\nyour right hand, and I knew that it was you and not Geirald who had\nslain the robber band. _I_ was the page who fought you, and again I\nsaw the ring on your finger, though it was absent from his when he\nstood before me to claim the prize. That was why I ordered the combat\nbetween you, though your faith to your word prevented my plan being\nsuccessful, and I had to try another. The man who keeps his promise\nat all costs to himself is the man I can trust, both for myself and\nfor my people.'\n\nSo they were married, and returned to their own kingdom, which they\nruled well and happily. And many years after a poor beggar knocked at\nthe palace gates and asked for money, for the sake of days gone\nby--and this was Geirald.\n\n[From _Neuisl\u00e4ndischen Volksm\u00e4rchen_.]\n\n\n\n\n_H\u00c1BOGI_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived two peasants who had three daughters,\nand, as generally happens, the youngest was the most beautiful and the\nbest tempered, and when her sisters wanted to go out she was always\nready to stay at home and do their work.\n\nYears passed quickly with the whole family, and one day the parents\nsuddenly perceived that all three girls were grown up, and that very\nsoon they would be thinking of marriage.\n\n'Have you decided what your husband's name is to be?' said the father,\nlaughingly, to his eldest daughter, one evening when they were all\nsitting at the door of their cottage. 'You know that is a very\nimportant point!'\n\n'Yes; I will never wed any man who is not called Sigmund,' answered\nshe.\n\n'Well, it is lucky for you that there are a great many Sigmunds in\nthis part of the world,' replied her father, 'so that you can take\nyour choice! And what do _you_ say?' he added, turning to the second.\n\n'Oh, _I_ think that there is no name so beautiful as Sigurd,' cried\nshe.\n\n'Then you won't be an old maid either,' answered he. 'There are seven\nSigurds in the next village alone! And you, Helga?'\n\nHelga, who was still the prettiest of the three, looked up. She also\nhad her favourite name, but, just as she was going to say it, she\nseemed to hear a voice whisper: 'Marry no one who is not called\nH\u00e1bogi.'\n\nThe girl had never heard of such a name, and did not like it, so she\ndetermined to pay no attention; but as she opened her mouth to tell\nher father that her husband must be called Njal, she found herself\nanswering instead: 'If I do marry it will be to no one except H\u00e1bogi.'\n\n'Who _is_ H\u00e1bogi?' asked her father and sisters; 'We never heard of\nsuch a person.'\n\n'All I can tell you is that he will be my husband, if ever I have\none,' returned Helga; and that was all she would say.\n\nBefore very long the young men who lived in the neighbouring villages\nor on the sides of the mountains, had heard of this talk of the three\ngirls, and Sigmunds and Sigurds in scores came to visit the little\ncottage. There were other young men too, who bore different names,\nthough not one of them was called 'H\u00e1bogi,' and these thought that\nthey might perhaps gain the heart of the youngest. But though there\nwas more than one 'Njal' amongst them, Helga's eyes seemed always\nturned another way.\n\nAt length the two elder sisters made their choice from out of the\nSigurds and the Sigmunds, and it was decided that both weddings should\ntake place at the same time. Invitations were sent out to the friends\nand relations, and when, on the morning of the great day, they were\nall assembled, a rough, coarse old peasant left the crowd and came up\nto the brides' father.\n\n'My name is H\u00e1bogi, and Helga must be my wife,' was all he said. And\nthough Helga stood pale and trembling with surprise, she did not try\nto run away.\n\n'I cannot talk of such things just now,' answered the father, who\ncould not bear the thought of giving his favourite daughter to this\nhorrible old man, and hoped, by putting it off, that something might\nhappen. But the sisters, who had always been rather jealous of Helga,\nwere secretly pleased that their bridegrooms should outshine hers.\n\nWhen the feast was over, H\u00e1bogi led up a beautiful horse from a field\nwhere he had left it to graze, and bade Helga jump up on its splendid\nsaddle, all embroidered in scarlet and gold. 'You shall come back\nagain,' said he; 'but now you must see the house that you are to live\nin.' And though Helga was very unwilling to go, something inside her\nforced her to obey.\n\nThe old man settled her comfortably, then sprang up in front of her as\neasily as if he had been a boy, and, shaking the reins, they were soon\nout of sight.\n\nAfter some miles they rode through a meadow, with grass so green that\nHelga's eyes felt quite dazzled; and feeding on the grass were a\nquantity of large fat sheep, with the curliest and whitest wool in the\nworld.\n\n'What lovely sheep! whose are they?' cried Helga.\n\n'Your H\u00e1bogi's,' answered he, 'all that you see belongs to him; but\nthe finest sheep in the whole herd, which has little golden bells\nhanging between its horns, you shall have for yourself.'\n\nThis pleased Helga very much, for she had never had anything of her\nown; and she smiled quite happily as she thanked H\u00e1bogi for his\npresent.\n\nThey soon left the sheep behind them, and entered a large field with a\nriver running through it, where a number of beautiful grey cows were\nstanding by a gate waiting for a milk-maid to come and milk them.\n\n'Oh, what lovely cows!' cried Helga again; 'I am sure their milk must\nbe sweeter than any other cows'. How I should like to have some! I\nwonder to whom they belong?'\n\n'To your H\u00e1bogi,' replied he; 'and some day you shall have as much\nmilk as you like, but we cannot stop now. Do you see that big grey\none, with the silver bells between her horns? That is to be yours, and\nyou can have her milked every morning the moment you wake.'\n\nAnd Helga's eyes shone, and though she did not say anything, she\nthought that she would learn to milk the cow herself.\n\n [Illustration: H\u00c1BOGI'S HORSES\n\n 'OH DO STOP FOR A MINUTE,' SAID HELGA, BUT H\u00c1BOGI WOULD NOT STOP OR\n LISTEN]\n\nA mile further on they came to a wide common, with short, springy\nturf, where horses of all colours, with skins of satin, were kicking\nup their heels in play. The sight of them so delighted Helga that she\nnearly sprang from her saddle with a shriek of joy.\n\n'Whose are they? Oh! whose are they?' she asked. 'How happy any man\nmust be who is the master of such lovely creatures!'\n\n'They are your H\u00e1bogi's,' replied he, 'and the one which you think the\nmost beautiful of all you shall have for yourself, and learn to ride\nhim.'\n\nAt this Helga quite forgot the sheep and the cow.\n\n'A horse of my own!' said she. 'Oh, stop one moment, and let me see\nwhich I will choose. The white one? No. The chestnut? No. I think,\nafter all, I like the coal-black one best, with the little white star\non his forehead. Oh, do stop, just for a minute.'\n\nBut H\u00e1bogi would not stop or listen. 'When you are married you will\nhave plenty of time to choose one,' was all he answered, and they rode\non two or three miles further.\n\nAt length H\u00e1bogi drew rein before a small house, very ugly and\nmean-looking, and that seemed on the point of tumbling to pieces.\n\n'This is my house, and is to be yours,' said H\u00e1bogi, as he jumped down\nand held out his arms to lift Helga from the horse. The girl's heart\nsank a little, as she thought that the man who possessed such\nwonderful sheep, and cows, and horses, might have built himself a\nprettier place to live in; but she did not say so. And, taking her\narm, he led her up the steps.\n\nBut when she got inside, she stood quite bewildered at the beauty of\nall around her. None of her friends owned such things, not even the\nmiller, who was the richest man she knew. There were carpets\neverywhere, thick and soft, and of deep rich colours; and the\ncushions were of silk, and made you sleepy even to look at them; and\ncurious little figures in china were scattered about. Helga felt as if\nit would take her all her life to see everything properly, and it only\nseemed a second since she had entered the house, when H\u00e1bogi came up\nto her.\n\n'I must begin the preparations for our wedding at once,' he said; 'but\nmy foster-brother will take you home, as I promised. In three days he\nwill bring you back here, with your parents and sisters, and any\nguests you may invite, in your company. By that time the feast will be\nready.'\n\nHelga had so much to think about, that the ride home appeared very\nshort. Her father and mother were delighted to see her, as they did\nnot feel sure that so ugly and cross-looking a man as H\u00e1bogi might not\nhave played her some cruel trick. And after they had given her some\nsupper they begged her to tell them all she had done. But Helga only\ntold them that they should see for themselves on the third day, when\nthey would come to her wedding.\n\nIt was very early in the morning when the party set out, and Helga's\ntwo sisters grew green with envy as they passed the flocks of sheep,\nand cows, and horses, and heard that the best of each was given to\nHelga herself; but when they caught sight of the poor little house\nwhich was to be her home their hearts grew light again.\n\n'I should be ashamed of living in such a place,' whispered each to the\nother; and the eldest sister spoke of the carved stone over _her_\ndoorway, and the second boasted of the number of rooms _she_ had. But\nthe moment they went inside they were struck dumb with rage at the\nsplendour of everything, and their faces grew white and cold with fury\nwhen they saw the dress which H\u00e1bogi had prepared for his bride--a\ndress that glittered like sunbeams dancing upon ice.\n\n [Illustration: THE JEALOUS SISTERS SPELL-BOUND IN THE ASH-PIT]\n\n'She _shall_ not look so much finer than us,' they cried\npassionately to each other as soon as they were alone; and when night\ncame they stole out of their rooms, and taking out the wedding-dress,\nthey laid it in the ash-pit, and heaped ashes upon it. But H\u00e1bogi, who\nknew a little magic, and had guessed what they would do, changed the\nashes into roses, and cast a spell over the sisters, so that they\ncould not leave the spot for a whole day, and every one who passed by\nmocked at them.\n\nThe next morning when they all awoke the ugly little tumble-down house\nhad disappeared, and in its place stood a splendid palace. The guests'\neyes sought in vain for the bridegroom, but could only see a handsome\nyoung man, with a coat of blue velvet and silver and a gold crown upon\nhis head.\n\n'Who is that?' they asked Helga.\n\n'That is my H\u00e1bogi,' said she.\n\n[_Neuisl\u00e4ndischen Volksm\u00e4rchen._]\n\n\n\n\n_HOW THE LITTLE BROTHER SET FREE HIS BIG BROTHERS_\n\n\nIn a small hut, right in the middle of the forest, lived a man, his\nwife, three sons and a daughter. For some reason, all the animals\nseemed to have left that part of the country, and food grew very\nscarce; so, one morning, after a night of snow, when the tracks of\nbeasts might be easily seen, the three boys started off to hunt.\n\nThey kept together for some time, till they reached a place where the\npath they had been following split into two, and one of the brothers\ncalled his dog and went to the left, while the others took the trail\nto the right. These had not gone far when their dogs scented a bear,\nand drove him out from the thicket. The bear ran across a clearing,\nand the elder brother managed to place an arrow right in his head.\n\nThey both took up the bear, and carried it towards home, meeting the\nthird at the spot where they had parted from him. When they reached\nhome they threw the bear down on the floor of the hut saying,\n\n'Father, here is a bear which we killed; now we can have some dinner.'\n\nBut the father, who was in a bad temper, only said:\n\n'When I was a young man we used to get two bears in one day.'\n\n [Illustration: EVERY TIME A BEAR WAS KILLED HIS SHADOW RETURNED TO\n THE HOUSE OF THE GREAT BEAR CHIEF]\n\nThe sons were rather disappointed at hearing this, and though there\nwas plenty of meat to last for two or three days, they started off\nearly in the morning down the same trail that they had followed\nbefore. As they drew near the fork a bear suddenly ran out from\nbehind a tree, and took the path on the right. The two elder boys and\ntheir dogs pursued him, and soon the second son, who was also a good\nshot, killed him instantly with an arrow. At the fork of the trail,\non their way home, they met the youngest, who had taken the left-hand\nroad, and had shot a bear for himself. But when they threw the two\nbears triumphantly on the floor of the hut their father hardly looked\nat them, and only said:\n\n'When _I_ was a young man I used to get three bears in one day.'\n\nThe next day they were luckier than before, and brought back three\nbears, on which their father told them that _he_ had always killed\nfour. However, that did not prevent him from skinning the bears and\ncooking them in a way of his own, which he thought very good, and they\nall ate an excellent supper.\n\nNow these bears were the servants of the great bear chief who lived in\na high mountain a long way off. And every time a bear was killed his\nshadow returned to the house of the bear chief, with the marks of his\nwounds plainly to be seen by the rest.\n\nThe chief was furious at the number of bears the hunters had killed,\nand determined that he would find some way of destroying them. So he\ncalled another of his servants, and said to him:\n\n'Go to the thicket near the fork, where the boys killed your brothers,\nand directly they or the dogs see you return here as fast as ever you\ncan. The mountain will open to let you in, and the hunters will follow\nyou. Then I shall have them in my power, and be able to revenge\nmyself.'\n\nThe servant bowed low, and started at once for the fork, where he hid\nhimself in the bushes.\n\nBy-and-by the boys came in sight, but this time there were only two of\nthem, as the youngest had stayed at home. The air was warm and damp,\nand the snow soft and slushy, and the elder brother's bowstring hung\nloose, while the bow of the younger caught in a tree and snapped in\nhalf. At that moment the dogs began to bark loudly, and the bear\nrushed out of the thicket and set off in the direction of the\nmountain. Without thinking that they had nothing to defend themselves\nwith, should the bear turn and attack them, the boys gave chase. The\nbear, who knew quite well that he could not be shot, sometimes\nslackened his pace and let the dogs get quite close; and in this way\nthe elder son reached the mountain without observing it, while his\nbrother, who had hurt his foot, was still far behind.\n\nAs he ran up, the mountain opened to admit the bear, and the boy, who\nwas close on his heels, rushed in after him, and did not know where he\nwas till he saw bears sitting on every side of him, holding a council.\nThe animal he had been chasing sank panting in their midst, and the\nboy, very much frightened, stood still, letting his bow fall to the\nground.\n\n'Why are you trying to kill all my servants?' asked the chief. 'Look\nround and see their shades, with arrows sticking in them. It was I who\ntold the bear to-day how he was to lure you into my power. I shall\ntake care that you shall not hurt my people any more, because you will\nbecome a bear yourself.'\n\nAt this moment the second brother came up--for the mountain had been\nleft open on purpose to tempt him also--and cried out breathlessly:\n'Don't you see that the bear is lying close to you? Why don't you\nshoot him?' And, without waiting for a reply, pressed forward to drive\nhis arrow into the heart of the bear. But the elder one caught his\nraised arm, and whispered: 'Be quiet! can't you tell where you are?'\nThen the boy looked up and saw the angry bears about him. On the one\nside were the servants of the chief, and on the other the servants of\nthe chief's sister, who was sorry for the two youths, and begged that\ntheir lives might be spared. The chief answered that he would not kill\nthem, but only cast a spell over them, by which their heads and bodies\nshould remain as they were, but their arms and legs should change into\nthose of a bear, so that they would go on all fours for the rest of\ntheir lives. And, stooping over a spring of water, he dipped a handful\nof moss in it and rubbed it over the arms and legs of the boys. In an\ninstant the transformation took place, and two creatures, neither\nbeast nor human, stood before the chief.\n\n [Illustration: HOW THE BOYS WERE HALF TURNED INTO BEARS]\n\nNow the bear chief of course knew that the boys' father would seek for\nhis sons when they did not return home, so he sent another of his\nservants to the hiding-place at the fork of the trail to see what\nwould happen. He had not waited long, when the father came in sight,\nstooping as he went to look for his sons' tracks in the snow. When he\nsaw the marks of snow-shoes along the path on the right he was filled\nwith joy, not knowing that the servant had made some fresh tracks on\npurpose to mislead him; and he hastened forward so fast that he fell\nheadlong into a pit, where the bear was sitting. Before he could pick\nhimself up the bear had quietly broken his neck, and, hiding the body\nunder the snow, sat down to see if anyone else would pass that way.\n\nMeanwhile the mother at home was wondering what had become of her two\nsons, and as the hours went on, and their father never returned, she\nmade up her mind to go and look for him. The youngest boy begged her\nto let him undertake the search, but she would not hear of it, and\ntold him he must stay at home and take care of his sister. So,\nslipping on her snow-shoes, she started on her way.\n\nAs no fresh snow had fallen, the trail was quite easy to find, and she\nwalked straight on, till it led her up to the pit where the bear was\nwaiting for her. He grasped her as she fell and broke her neck, after\nwhich he laid her in the snow beside her husband, and went back to\ntell the bear chief.\n\nHour after hour dragged heavily by in the forest hut, and at last the\nbrother and sister felt quite sure that in some way or other all the\nrest of the family had perished. Day after day the boy climbed to the\ntop of a tall tree near the house, and sat there till he was almost\nfrozen, looking on all sides through the forest openings, hoping that\nhe might see someone coming along. Very soon all the food in the house\nwas eaten, and he knew he would have to go out and hunt for more.\nBesides, he wished to seek for his parents.\n\nThe little girl did not like being left alone in the hut, and cried\nbitterly; but her brother told her that there was no use sitting down\nquietly to starve, and that whether he found any game or not he would\ncertainly be back before the following night. Then he cut himself some\narrows, each from a different tree, and winged with the feathers of\nfour different birds. He then made himself a bow, very light and\nstrong, and got down his snow-shoes. All this took some time, and he\ncould not start that day, but early next morning he called his little\ndog Redmouth, whom he kept in a box, and set out.\n\nAfter he had followed the trail for a great distance he grew very\ntired, and sat upon the branch of a tree to rest. But Redmouth barked\nso furiously that the boy thought that perhaps his parents might have\nbeen killed under its branches, and, stepping back, shot one of his\narrows at the root of the tree. Whereupon a noise like thunder shook\nit from top to bottom, fire broke out, and in a few minutes a little\nheap of ashes lay in the place where it had stood.\n\nNot knowing quite what to make of it all, the boy continued on the\ntrail, and went down the right-hand fork till he came to the clump of\nbushes where the bears used to hide.\n\nNow, as was plain by his being able to change the shape of the two\nbrothers, the bear chief knew a good deal of magic, and he was quite\naware that the little boy was following the trail, and he sent a very\nsmall but clever bear servant to wait for him in the bushes and to try\nto tempt him into the mountain. But somehow his spells could not have\nworked properly that day, as the bear chief did not know that Redmouth\nhad gone with his master, or he would have been more careful. For the\nmoment the dog ran round the bushes barking loudly, the little bear\nservant rushed out in a fright, and set out for the mountains as fast\nas he could.\n\nThe dog followed the bear, and the boy followed the dog, until the\nmountain, the house of the great bear chief, came in sight. But along\nthe road the snow was so wet and heavy that the boy could hardly get\nalong, and then the thong of his snow-shoes broke, and he had to stop\nand mend it, so that the bear and the dog got so far ahead that he\ncould scarcely hear the barking. When the strap was firm again the boy\nspoke to his snow-shoes and said:\n\n'Now you must go as fast as you can, or, if not, I shall lose the dog\nas well as the bear.' And the snow-shoes sang in answer that they\nwould run like the wind.\n\nAs he came along, the bear chief's sister was looking out of the\nwindow, and took pity on this little brother, as she had on the two\nelder ones, and waited to see what the boy would do, when he found\nthat the bear servant and the dog had already entered the mountain.\n\nThe little brother was certainly very much puzzled at not seeing\nanything of either of the animals, which had vanished suddenly out of\nhis sight. He paused for an instant to think what he should do next,\nand while he did so he fancied he heard Redmouth's voice on the\nopposite side of the mountain. With great difficulty he scrambled over\nsteep rocks, and forced a path through tangled thickets; but when he\nreached the other side the sound appeared to start from the place from\nwhich he had come. Then he had to go all the way back again, and at\nthe very top, where he stopped to rest, the barking was directly\nbeneath him, and he knew in an instant where he was and what had\nhappened.\n\n'Let my dog out at once, bear chief!' cried he. 'If you do not, I\nshall destroy your palace.' But the bear chief only laughed, and said\nnothing. The boy was very angry at his silence, and aiming one of his\narrows at the bottom of the mountain, shot straight through it.\n\nAs the arrow touched the ground a rumbling was heard, and with a roar\na fire broke out which seemed to split the whole mountain into pieces.\nThe bear chief and all his servants were burnt up in the flames, but\nhis sister and all that belonged to her were spared because she had\ntried to save the two elder boys from punishment.\n\nAs soon as the fire had burnt itself out the little hunter entered\nwhat was left of the mountain, and the first thing he saw was his two\nbrothers--half bear, half boy.\n\n'Oh, help us! help us!' cried they, standing on their hind legs as\nthey spoke, and stretching out their fore-paws to him.\n\n'But how am I to help you?' asked the little brother, almost weeping.\n'I can kill people, and destroy trees and mountains, but I have no\npower over men.' And the two elder brothers came up and put their paws\non his shoulders, and they all three wept together.\n\nThe heart of the bear chief's sister was moved when she saw their\nmisery, and she came gently up behind, and whispered:\n\n'Little boy, gather some moss from the spring over there, and let your\nbrothers smell it.'\n\nWith a bound all three were at the spring, and as the youngest plucked\na handful of wet moss, the two others sniffed at it with all their\nmight. Then the bear-skin fell away from them, and they stood upright\nonce more.\n\n'How can we thank you? how can we thank you?' they stammered, hardly\nable to speak; and fell at her feet in gratitude. But the bear's\nsister only smiled, and bade them go home and look after the little\ngirl, who had no one else to protect her.\n\nAnd this the boys did, and took such good care of their sister that,\nas she was very small, she soon forgot that she had ever had a father\nand mother.\n\n[From the _Bureau of Ethnology, U.S._]\n\n\n\n\n_THE SACRED MILK OF KOUMONGO\u00c9_\n\n\nFar away, in a very hot country, there once lived a man and woman who\nhad two children, a son named Koan\u00e9 and a daughter called Thakan\u00e9.\n\nEarly in the morning and late in the evenings the parents worked hard\nin the fields, resting, when the sun was high, under the shade of some\ntree. While they were absent the little girl kept house alone, for her\nbrother always got up before the dawn, when the air was fresh and\ncool, and drove out the cattle to the sweetest patches of grass he\ncould find.\n\nOne day, when Koan\u00e9 had slept later than usual, his father and mother\nwent to their work before him, and there was only Thakan\u00e9 to be seen\nbusy making the bread for supper.\n\n'Thakan\u00e9,' he said, 'I am thirsty. Give me a drink from the tree\nKoumongo\u00e9, which has the best milk in the world.'\n\n'Oh, Koan\u00e9,' cried his sister, 'you know that we are forbidden to\ntouch that tree. What would father say when he came home? For he would\nbe sure to know.'\n\n'Nonsense,' replied Koan\u00e9, 'there is so much milk in Koumongo\u00e9 that he\nwill never miss a little. If you won't give it to me, I sha'n't take\nthe cattle out. They will just have to stay all day in the hut, and\nyou know that they will starve.' And he turned from her in a rage, and\nsat down in the corner.\n\nAfter a while Thakan\u00e9 said to him: 'It is getting hot, had you not\nbetter drive out the cattle now?'\n\nBut Koan\u00e9 only answered sulkily: 'I told you I am not going to drive\nthem out at all. If I have to do without milk, they shall do without\ngrass.'\n\nThakan\u00e9 did not know what to do. She was afraid to disobey her\nparents, who would most likely beat her, yet the beasts would be sure\nto suffer if they were kept in, and she would perhaps be beaten for\nthat too. So at last she took an axe and a tiny earthen bowl, she cut\na very small hole in the side of Koumongo\u00e9, and out gushed enough milk\nto fill the bowl.\n\n'Here is the milk you wanted,' said she, going up to Koan\u00e9, who was\nstill sulking in his corner.\n\n'What is the use of that?' grumbled Koan\u00e9; 'why, there is not enough\nto drown a fly. Go and get me three times as much!'\n\nTrembling with fright, Thakan\u00e9 returned to the tree, and struck it a\nsharp blow with the axe. In an instant there poured forth such a\nstream of milk that it ran like a river into the hut.\n\n'Koan\u00e9! Koan\u00e9!' cried she, 'come and help me to plug up the hole.\nThere will be no milk left for our father and mother.' But Koan\u00e9 could\nnot stop it any more than Thakan\u00e9, and soon the milk was flowing\nthrough the hut downhill towards their parents in the fields below.\n\nThe man saw the white stream a long way off, and guessed what had\nhappened.\n\n'Wife, wife,' he called loudly to the woman, who was working at a\nlittle distance: 'Do you see Koumongo\u00e9 running fast down the hill?\nThat is some mischief of the children's, I am sure. I must go home and\nfind out what is the matter.' And they both threw down their hoes and\nhurried to the side of Koumongo\u00e9.\n\nKneeling on the grass, the man and his wife made a cup of their hands\nand drank the milk from it. And no sooner had they done this, than\nKoumongo\u00e9 flowed back again up the hill, and entered the hut.\n\n'Thakan\u00e9,' said the parents, severely, when they reached home panting\nfrom the heat of the sun, 'what have you been doing? Why did Koumongo\u00e9\ncome to us in the fields instead of staying in the garden?'\n\n'It was Koan\u00e9's fault,' answered Thakan\u00e9. 'He would not take the\ncattle to feed until he drank some of the milk from Koumongo\u00e9. So, as\nI did not know what else to do, I gave it to him.'\n\nThe father listened to Thakan\u00e9's words, but made no answer. Instead,\nhe went outside and brought in two sheepskins, which he stained red\nand sent for a blacksmith to forge some iron rings. The rings were\nthen passed over Thakan\u00e9's arms and legs and neck, and the skins\nfastened on her before and behind. When all was ready, the man sent\nfor his servants and said:\n\n'I am going to get rid of Thakan\u00e9.'\n\n'Get rid of your only daughter?' they answered, in surprise. 'But\nwhy?'\n\n'Because she has eaten what she ought not to have eaten. She has\ntouched the sacred tree which belongs to her mother and me alone.'\nAnd, turning his back, he called to Thakan\u00e9 to follow him, and they\nwent down the road which led to the dwelling of an ogre.\n\nThey were passing along some fields where the corn was ripening, when\na rabbit suddenly sprang out at their feet, and standing on its hind\nlegs, it sang:\n\n Why do you give to the ogre\n Your child, so fair, so fair?\n\n'You had better ask her,' replied the man, 'she is old enough to give\nyou an answer.'\n\nThen, in her turn, Thakan\u00e9 sang:\n\n I gave Koumongo\u00e9 to Koan\u00e9,\n Koumongo\u00e9 to the keeper of beasts;\n For without Koumongo\u00e9 they could not go to the meadows:\n Without Koumongo\u00e9 they would starve in the hut;\n That was why I gave him the Koumongo\u00e9 of my father.\n\nAnd when the rabbit heard that, he cried: 'Wretched man! it is you\nwhom the ogre should eat, and not your beautiful daughter.'\n\n [Illustration: 'WHY DO YOU GIVE TO THE OGRE YOUR CHILD, SO FAIR,\n SO FAIR?']\n\nBut the father paid no heed to what the rabbit said, and only walked\non the faster, bidding Thakan\u00e9 to keep close behind him. By-and-by\nthey met with a troop of great deer, called elands, and they stopped\nwhen they saw Thakan\u00e9 and sang:\n\n Why do you give to the ogre\n Your child, so fair, so fair?\n\n'You had better ask her,' replied the man, 'she is old enough to give\nyou an answer.'\n\nThen, in her turn, Thakan\u00e9 sang:\n\n I gave Koumongo\u00e9 to Koan\u00e9,\n Koumongo\u00e9 to the keeper of beasts;\n For without Koumongo\u00e9 they could not go to the meadows:\n Without Koumongo\u00e9 they would starve in the hut;\n That was why I gave him the Koumongo\u00e9 of my father.\n\nAnd the elands all cried: 'Wretched man! it is you whom the ogre\nshould eat, and not your beautiful daughter.'\n\nBy this time it was nearly dark, and the father said they could travel\nno further that night, and must go to sleep where they were. Thakan\u00e9\nwas thankful indeed when she heard this, for she was very tired, and\nfound the two skins fastened round her almost too heavy to carry. So,\nin spite of her dread of the ogre, she slept till dawn, when her\nfather woke her, and told her roughly that he was ready to continue\ntheir journey.\n\nCrossing the plain, the girl and her father passed a herd of gazelles\nfeeding. They lifted their heads, wondering who was out so early, and\nwhen they caught sight of Thakan\u00e9, they sang:\n\n Why do you give to the ogre\n Your child, so fair, so fair?\n\n'You had better ask her,' replied the man, 'she is old enough to\nanswer for herself.'\n\nThen, in her turn, Thakan\u00e9 sang:\n\n I gave Koumongo\u00e9 to Koan\u00e9,\n Koumongo\u00e9 to the keeper of beasts;\n For without Koumongo\u00e9 they could not go to the meadows:\n Without Koumongo\u00e9 they would starve in the hut;\n That was why I gave him the Koumongo\u00e9 of my father.\n\nAnd the gazelles all cried: 'Wretched man! it is you whom the ogre\nshould eat, and not your beautiful daughter.'\n\nAt last they arrived at the village where the ogre lived, and they\nwent straight to his hut. He was nowhere to be seen, but in his place\nwas his son Masilo, who was not an ogre at all, but a very polite\nyoung man. He ordered his servants to bring a pile of skins for\nThakan\u00e9 to sit on, but told her father he must sit on the ground.\nThen, catching sight of the girl's face, which she had kept bent down,\nhe was struck by its beauty, and put the same question that the\nrabbit, and the elands, and the gazelles had done.\n\nThakan\u00e9 answered him as before, and he instantly commanded that she\nshould be taken to the hut of his mother, and placed under her care,\nwhile the man should be led to his father. Directly the ogre saw him\nhe bade the servant throw him into the great pot which always stood\nready on the fire, and in five minutes he was done to a turn. After\nthat the servant returned to Masilo and related all that had happened.\n\nNow Masilo had fallen in love with Thakan\u00e9 the moment he saw her. At\nfirst he did not know what to make of this strange feeling, for all\nhis life he had hated women, and had refused several brides whom his\nparents had chosen for him. However, they were so anxious that he\nshould marry, that they willingly accepted Thakan\u00e9 as their\ndaughter-in-law, though she did not bring any marriage portion with\nher.\n\nAfter some time a baby was born to her, and Thakan\u00e9 thought it was the\nmost beautiful baby that ever was seen. But when her mother-in-law saw\nit was a girl, she wrung her hands and wept, saying:\n\n'O miserable mother! Miserable child! Alas for you! why were you not a\nboy!'\n\nThakan\u00e9, in great surprise, asked the meaning of her distress; and the\nold woman told her that it was the custom in that country that all\nthe girls who were born should be given to the ogre to eat.\n\nThen Thakan\u00e9 clasped the baby tightly in her arms, and cried:\n\n'But it is not the custom in _my_ country! There, when children die,\nthey are buried in the earth. No one shall take my baby from me.'\n\nThat night, when everyone in the hut was asleep, Thakan\u00e9 rose, and\ncarrying her baby on her back, went down to a place where the river\nspread itself out into a large lake, with tall willows all round the\nbank. Here, hidden from everyone, she sat down on a stone and began to\nthink what she should do to save her child.\n\nSuddenly she heard a rustling among the willows, and an old woman\nappeared before her.\n\n'What are you crying for, my dear?' said she.\n\nAnd Thakan\u00e9 answered: 'I was crying for my baby--I cannot hide her for\never, and if the ogre sees her, he will eat her; and I would rather\nshe was drowned than that.'\n\n'What you say is true,' replied the old woman. 'Give me your child,\nand let me take care of it. And if you will fix a day to meet me here\nI will bring the baby.'\n\nThen Thakan\u00e9 dried her eyes, and gladly accepted the old woman's\noffer. When she got home she told her husband she had thrown it in the\nriver, and as he had watched her go in that direction he never thought\nof doubting what she said.\n\nOn the appointed day, Thakan\u00e9 slipped out when everybody was busy, and\nran down the path that led to the lake. As soon as she got there, she\ncrouched down among the willows, and sang softly:\n\n Bring to me Dilah, Dilah the rejected one,\n Dilah, whom her father Masilo cast out!\n\nAnd in a moment the old woman appeared holding the baby in her arms.\nDilah had become so big and strong, that Thakan\u00e9's heart was filled\nwith joy and gratitude, and she stayed as long as she dared, playing\nwith her baby. At last she felt she must return to the village, lest\nshe should be missed, and the child was handed back to the old woman,\nwho vanished with her into the lake.\n\nChildren grow up very quickly when they live under water, and in less\ntime than anyone could suppose, Dilah had changed from a baby to a\nwoman. Her mother came to visit her whenever she was able, and one\nday, when they were sitting talking together, they were spied out by a\nman who had come to cut willows to weave into baskets. He was so\nsurprised to see how like the face of the girl was to Masilo, that he\nleft his work and returned to the village.\n\n'Masilo,' he said, as he entered the hut, 'I have just beheld your\nwife near the river with a girl who must be your daughter, she is so\nlike you. We have been deceived, for we all thought she was dead.'\n\nWhen he heard this, Masilo tried to look shocked because his wife had\nbroken the law; but in his heart he was very glad.\n\n'But what shall we do now?' asked he.\n\n'Make sure for yourself that I am speaking the truth by hiding among\nthe bushes the first time Thakan\u00e9 says she is going to bathe in the\nriver, and waiting till the girl appears.'\n\nFor some days Thakan\u00e9 stayed quietly at home, and her husband began to\nthink that the man had been mistaken; but at last she said to her\nhusband: 'I am going to bathe in the river.'\n\n [Illustration: 'BRING TO ME DILAH, DILAH THE REJECTED ONE']\n\n'Well, you can go,' answered he. But he ran down quickly by another\npath, and got there first, and hid himself in the bushes. An instant\nlater, Thakan\u00e9 arrived, and standing on the bank, she sang:\n\n Bring to me Dilah, Dilah the rejected one,\n Dilah, whom her father Masilo cast out!\n\nThen the old woman came out of the water, holding the girl, now tall\nand slender, by the hand. And as Masilo looked, he saw that she was\nindeed his daughter, and he wept for joy that she was not lying dead\nin the bottom of the lake. The old woman, however, seemed uneasy, and\nsaid to Thakan\u00e9: 'I feel as if someone was watching us. I will not\nleave the girl to-day, but will take her back with me'; and sinking\nbeneath the surface, she drew the girl after her. After they had gone,\nThakan\u00e9 returned to the village, which Masilo had managed to reach\nbefore her.\n\nAll the rest of the day he sat in a corner weeping, and his mother who\ncame in asked: 'Why are you weeping so bitterly, my son?'\n\n'My head aches,' he answered; 'it aches very badly.' And his mother\npassed on, and left him alone.\n\nIn the evening he said to his wife: 'I have seen my daughter, in the\nplace where you told me you had drowned her. Instead, she lives at the\nbottom of the lake, and has now grown into a young woman.'\n\n'I don't know what you are talking about,' replied Thakan\u00e9. 'I buried\nmy child under the sand on the beach.'\n\nThen Masilo implored her to give the child back to him; but she would\nnot listen, and only answered: 'If I were to give her back you would\nonly obey the laws of your country and take her to your father, the\nogre, and she would be eaten.'\n\nBut Masilo promised that he would never let his father see her, and\nthat now she was a woman no one would try to hurt her; so Thakan\u00e9's\nheart melted, and she went down to the lake to consult the old woman.\n\n'What am I to do?' she asked, when, after clapping her hands, the old\nwoman appeared before her. 'Yesterday Masilo beheld Dilah, and ever\nsince he has entreated me to give him back his daughter.'\n\n'If I let her go he must pay me a thousand head of cattle in\nexchange,' replied the old woman. And Thakan\u00e9 carried her answer back\nto Masilo.\n\n'Why, I would gladly give her two thousand!' cried he, 'for she has\nsaved my daughter.' And he bade messengers hasten to all the\nneighbouring villages, and tell his people to send him at once all the\ncattle he possessed. When they were all assembled he chose a thousand\nof the finest bulls and cows, and drove them down to the river,\nfollowed by a great crowd wondering what would happen.\n\nThen Thakan\u00e9 stepped forward in front of the cattle and sang:\n\n Bring to me Dilah, Dilah the rejected one,\n Dilah, whom her father Masilo cast out!\n\nAnd Dilah came from the waters holding out her hands to Masilo and\nThakan\u00e9, and in her place the cattle sank into the lake, and were\ndriven by the old woman to the great city filled with people, which\nlies at the bottom.\n\n[_Contes Populaires des Bassoutos._]\n\n\n\n\n_THE WICKED WOLVERINE_\n\n\nOne day a wolverine was out walking on the hillside, when, on turning\na corner, he suddenly saw a large rock.\n\n'Was that you I heard walking about just now?' he asked, for\nwolverines are cautious animals, and always like to know the reasons\nof things.\n\n'No, certainly not,' answered the rock; 'I don't know how to walk.'\n\n'But I _saw_ you walking,' continued the wolverine.\n\n'I am afraid that you were not taught to speak the truth,' retorted\nthe rock.\n\n'You need not speak like that, for I have _seen_ you walking,' replied\nthe wolverine, 'though I am quite sure that you could never catch\n_me_!' and he ran a little distance and then stopped to see if the\nrock was pursuing him; but, to his vexation, the rock was still in the\nsame place. Then the wolverine went up close, and struck the rock a\nblow with his paw, saying: 'Well, will you catch me _now_?'\n\n'I can't walk, but I can _roll_,' answered the rock.\n\nAnd the wolverine laughed and said: 'Oh, that will do just as well';\nand began to run down the side of the mountain.\n\nAt first he went quite slowly, 'just to give the rock a chance,' he\nthought to himself; but soon he quickened his pace, for he found that\nthe rock was almost at his heels. But the faster the wolverine ran,\nthe faster the rock rolled, and by-and-by the little creature began to\nget very tired, and was sorry he had not left the rock to itself.\nThinking that if he could manage to put on a spurt he would reach the\nforest of great trees at the bottom of the mountain, where the rock\ncould not come, he gathered up all his strength, and instead of\nrunning he leaped over sticks and stones, but, whatever he did, the\nrock was always close behind him. At length he grew so weary that he\ncould not even see where he was going, and catching his foot in a\nbranch he tripped and fell. The rock stopped at once, but there came a\nshriek from the wolverine:\n\n'Get off, get off! can't you see that you are on my legs?'\n\n [Illustration: ALL THE ANIMALS TRY TO GET THE ROCK OFF WOLVERINE'S\n LEGS]\n\n'Why did you not leave me alone?' asked the rock. 'I did not want to\nmove--I hate moving. But you _would_ have it, and I certainly sha'n't\nmove now till I am forced to.'\n\n'I will call my brothers,' answered the wolverine. 'There are many of\nthem in the forest, and you will soon see that they are stronger than\nyou.' And he called, and called, and called, till wolves and foxes and\nall sorts of other creatures all came running to see what was the\nmatter.\n\n'How _did_ you get under that rock?' asked they, making a ring round\nhim; but they had to repeat their question several times before the\nwolverine would answer, for he, like many other persons, found it hard\nto confess that he had brought his troubles on himself.\n\n'Well, I was dull, and wanted someone to play with me,' he said at\nlast, in a sulky voice, 'and I challenged the rock to catch me. Of\ncourse I thought I could run the fastest; but I tripped, and it rolled\non me. It was just an accident.'\n\n'It serves you right for being so silly,' said they; but they pushed\nand hauled at the rock for a long time without making it move an inch.\n\n'You are no good at all,' cried the wolverine crossly, for it was\nsuffering great pain, 'and if you cannot get me free, I shall see what\nmy friends the lightning and the thunder can do.' And he called loudly\nto the lightning to come and help him as quickly as possible.\n\nIn a few minutes a dark cloud came rolling up the sky, giving out such\nterrific claps of thunder that the wolves and the foxes and all the\nother creatures ran helter-skelter in all directions. But, frightened\nthough they were, they did not forget to beg the lightning to take off\nthe wolverine's coat and to free his legs, but to be careful not to\nhurt him. So the lightning disappeared into the cloud for a moment to\ngather up fresh strength, and then came rushing down, right upon the\nrock, which it sent flying in all directions, and took off the\nwolverine's coat so neatly that, though it was torn into tiny shreds,\nthe wolverine himself was quite unharmed.\n\n'That was rather clumsy of you,' said he, standing up naked in his\nflesh. 'Surely you could have split the rock without tearing my coat\nto bits!' And he stooped down to pick up the pieces. It took him a\nlong time, for there were a great many of them, but at last he had\nthem all in his hand.\n\n'I'll go to my sister the frog,' he thought to himself, 'and she will\nsew them together for me'; and he set off at once for the swamp in\nwhich his sister lived.\n\n'Will you sew my coat together? I had an unlucky accident, and it is\nquite impossible to wear,' he said, when he found her.\n\n'With pleasure,' she answered, for she had always been taught to be\npolite; and getting her needle and thread she began to fit the pieces.\nBut though she was very good-natured, she was not very clever, and she\ngot some of the bits wrong. When the wolverine, who was very\nparticular about his clothes, came to put it on, he grew very angry.\n\n'What a useless creature you are!' cried he. 'Do you expect me to go\nabout in such a coat as that? Why it bulges all down the back, as if I\nhad a hump, and it is so tight across the chest that I expect it to\nburst every time I breathe. I knew you were stupid, but I did not\nthink you were as stupid as that.' And giving the poor frog a blow on\nher head, which knocked her straight into the water, he walked off in\na rage to his younger sister the mouse.\n\n'I tore my coat this morning,' he began, when he had found her sitting\nat the door of her house eating an apple. 'It was all in little bits,\nand I took it to our sister the frog to ask her to sew it for me. But\njust look at the way she has done it! You will have to take it to\npieces and fit them together properly, and I hope I shall not have to\ncomplain again.' For as the wolverine was older than the mouse, he was\naccustomed to speak to her in this manner. However, the mouse was used\nto it and only answered: 'I think you had better stay here till it is\ndone, and if there is any alteration needed I can make it.' So the\nwolverine sat down on a heap of dry ferns, and, picking up the apple,\nhe finished it without even asking the mouse's leave.\n\nAt last the coat was ready, and the wolverine put it on.\n\n'Yes, it fits very well,' said he, 'and you have sewn it very neatly.\nWhen I pass this way again I will bring you a handful of corn, as a\nreward'; and he ran off as smart as ever, leaving the mouse quite\ngrateful behind him.\n\nHe wandered about for many days, till he reached a place where food\nwas very scarce, and for a whole week he went without any. He was\ngrowing desperate, when he suddenly came upon a bear that was lying\nasleep. 'Ah! here is food at last!' thought he; but how was he to kill\nthe bear, who was so much bigger than himself? It was no use to try\nforce, he must invent some cunning plan which would get her into his\npower. At last, after thinking hard, he decided upon something, and\ngoing up to the bear, he exclaimed: 'Is that you, my sister?'\n\nThe bear turned round and saw the wolverine, and murmuring to herself,\nso low that nobody could hear, 'I never heard before that I had a\nbrother,' got up and ran quickly to a tree, up which she climbed. Now\nthe wolverine was very angry when he saw his dinner vanishing in front\nof him, especially as _he_ could not climb trees like the bear, so he\nfollowed, and stood at the foot of the tree, shrieking as loud as he\ncould, 'Come down, sister; our father has sent me to look for you! You\nwere lost when you were a little girl and went out picking berries,\nand it was only the other day that we heard from a beaver where you\nwere.' At these words, the bear came a little way down the tree, and\nthe wolverine, seeing this, went on:\n\n'Are you not fond of berries? _I_ am! And I know a place where they\ngrow so thick the ground is quite hidden. Why, look for yourself! That\nhillside is quite red with them!'\n\n'I can't see so far,' answered the bear, now climbing down altogether.\n'You must have wonderfully good eyes! I wish _I_ had; but my sight is\nvery short.'\n\n'So was mine till my father smashed a pailful of cranberries, and\nrubbed my eyes with them,' replied the wolverine. 'But if you like to\ngo and gather some of the berries I will do just as he did, and you\nwill soon be able to see as far as me.'\n\nIt took the bear a long while to gather the berries, for she was slow\nabout everything, and, besides, it made her back ache to stoop. But at\nlast she returned with a sackful, and put them down beside the\nwolverine. 'That is splendid, sister!' cried the wolverine. 'Now lie\nflat on the ground with your head on this stone, while I smash them.'\n\nThe bear, who was very tired, was only too glad to do as she was bid,\nand stretched herself comfortably on the grass.\n\n'I am ready now,' said the wolverine after a bit; 'just at first you\nwill find that the berries make your eyes smart, but you must be\ncareful not to move, or the juice will run out, and then it will have\nto be done all over again.'\n\nSo the bear promised to lie very still; but the moment the cranberries\ntouched her eyes she sprang up with a roar.\n\n'Oh, you mustn't mind a little pain,' said the wolverine, 'it will\nsoon be over, and then you will see all sorts of things you have never\ndreamt of.' The bear sank down with a groan, and as her eyes were full\nof cranberry juice, which completely blinded her, the wolverine took\nup a sharp knife and stabbed her to the heart.\n\nThen he took off the skin, and, stealing some fire from a tent, which\nhis sharp eyes had perceived hidden behind a rock, he set about\nroasting the bear bit by bit. He thought the meat was the best he ever\nhad tasted, and when dinner was done he made up his mind to try that\nsame trick again, if ever he was hungry.\n\nAnd very likely he did!\n\n[Adapted from _Bureau of Ethnology_.]\n\n\n\n\n_THE HUSBAND OF THE RAT'S DAUGHTER_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in Japan a rat and his wife who came of\nan old and noble race, and had one daughter, the loveliest girl in all\nthe rat world. Her parents were very proud of her, and spared no pains\nto teach her all she ought to know. There was not another young lady\nin the whole town who was as clever as she was in gnawing through the\nhardest wood, or who could drop from such a height on to a bed, or run\naway so fast if anyone was heard coming. Great attention, too, was\npaid to her personal appearance, and her skin shone like satin, while\nher teeth were as white as pearls, and beautifully pointed.\n\nOf course, with all these advantages, her parents expected her to make\na brilliant marriage, and, as she grew up, they began to look round\nfor a suitable husband.\n\nBut here a difficulty arose. The father was a rat from the tip of his\nnose to the end of his tail, outside as well as in, and desired that\nhis daughter should wed among her own people. She had no lack of\nlovers, but her father's secret hopes rested on a fine young rat, with\nmoustaches which almost swept the ground, whose family was still\nnobler and more ancient than his own. Unluckily, the mother had other\nviews for her precious child. She was one of those people who always\ndespise their own family and surroundings, and take pleasure in\nthinking that they themselves are made of finer material than the rest\nof the world. '_Her_ daughter should never marry a mere rat,' she\ndeclared, holding her head high. 'With her beauty and talents she had\na right to look for someone a little better than _that_.'\n\nSo she talked, as mothers will, to anyone that would listen to her.\nWhat the girl thought about the matter nobody knew or cared--it was\nnot the fashion in the rat world.\n\nMany were the quarrels which the old rat and his wife had upon the\nsubject, and sometimes they bore on their faces certain marks which\nlooked as if they had not kept to words only.\n\n'Reach up to the stars is _my_ motto,' cried the lady one day, when\nshe was in a greater passion than usual. 'My daughter's beauty places\nher higher than anything upon earth,' she cried; 'and I am certainly\nnot going to accept a son-in-law who is beneath her.'\n\n'Better offer her in marriage to the sun,' answered her husband\nimpatiently. 'As far as I know there is nothing greater than he.'\n\n'Well, I _was_ thinking of it,' replied the wife, 'and as you are of\nthe same mind, we will pay him a visit to-morrow.'\n\nSo the next morning, the two rats, having spent hours in making\nthemselves smart, set out to see the sun, leading their daughter\nbetween them.\n\nThe journey took some time, but at length they came to the golden\npalace where the sun lived.\n\n'Noble king,' began the mother, 'behold our daughter! She is so\nbeautiful that she is above everything in the whole world. Naturally,\nwe wish for a son-in-law who, on his side, is greater than all.\nTherefore we have come to you.'\n\n'I feel very much flattered,' replied the sun, who was so busy that he\nhad not the least wish to marry anybody. 'You do me great honour by\nyour proposal. Only, in one point you are mistaken, and it would be\nwrong of me to take advantage of your ignorance. There _is_ something\ngreater than I am, and that is the cloud. Look!' And as he spoke a\ncloud spread itself over the sun's face, blotting out his rays.\n\n'Oh, well, we will speak to the cloud,' said the mother. And turning\nto the cloud she repeated her proposal.\n\n'Indeed I am unworthy of anything so charming,' answered the cloud;\n'but you make a mistake again in what you say. There is one thing that\nis even more powerful than I, and that is the wind. Ah, here he comes,\nyou can see for yourself.'\n\nAnd she _did_ see, for catching up the cloud as he passed, he threw it\non the other side of the sky. Then, tumbling father, mother and\ndaughter down to the earth again, he paused for a moment beside them,\nhis foot on an old wall.\n\nWhen she had recovered her breath, the mother began her little speech\nonce more.\n\n'The wall is the proper husband for your daughter,' answered the wind,\nwhose home consisted of a cave, which he only visited when he was not\nrushing about elsewhere; 'you can see for yourself that he is greater\nthan I, for he has power to stop me in my flight.' And the mother, who\ndid not trouble to conceal her wishes, turned at once to the wall.\n\nThen something happened which was quite unexpected by everyone.\n\n'I won't marry that ugly old wall, which is as old as my grandfather,'\nsobbed the girl, who had not uttered one word all this time. 'I would\nhave married the sun, or the cloud, or the wind, because it was my\nduty, although I love the handsome young rat, and him only. But that\nhorrid old wall--I would sooner die!'\n\nAnd the wall, rather hurt in his feelings, declared that he had no\nclaim to be the husband of so beautiful a girl.\n\n'It is quite true,' he said, 'that I can stop the wind who can part\nthe clouds who can cover the sun; but there is someone who can do more\nthan all these, and that is the rat. It is the rat who passes through\nme, and can reduce me to powder, simply with his teeth. If, therefore,\nyou want a son-in-law who is greater than the whole world, seek him\namong the rats.'\n\n'Ah, what did I tell you?' cried the father. And his wife, though for\nthe moment angry at being beaten, soon thought that a rat son-in-law\nwas what she had always desired.\n\nSo all three returned happily home, and the wedding was celebrated\nthree days after.\n\n[_Contes Populaires._]\n\n\n\n\n_THE MERMAID AND THE BOY_\n\n\nLong, long ago, there lived a king who ruled over a country by the\nsea. When he had been married about a year, some of his subjects,\ninhabiting a distant group of islands, revolted against his laws, and\nit became needful for him to leave his wife and go in person to settle\ntheir disputes. The queen feared that some ill would come of it, and\nimplored him to stay at home, but he told her that nobody could do his\nwork for him, and the next morning the sails were spread, and the king\nstarted on his voyage.\n\nThe vessel had not gone very far when she ran upon a rock, and stuck\nso fast in a cleft that the strength of the whole crew could not get\nher off again. To make matters worse, the wind was rising too, and it\nwas quite plain that in a few hours the ship would be dashed to pieces\nand everybody would be drowned, when suddenly the form of a mermaid\nwas seen dancing on the waves which threatened every moment to\noverwhelm them.\n\n'There is only one way to free yourselves,' she said to the king,\nbobbing up and down in the water as she spoke, 'and that is to give me\nyour solemn word that you will deliver to me the first child that is\nborn to you.'\n\nThe king hesitated at this proposal. He hoped that some day he might\nhave children in his home, and the thought that he must yield up the\nheir to his crown was very bitter to him; but just then a huge wave\nbroke with great force on the ship's side, and his men fell on their\nknees and entreated him to save them.\n\nSo he promised, and this time a wave lifted the vessel clean off the\nrocks, and she was in the open sea once more.\n\nThe affairs of the islands took longer to settle than the king had\nexpected, and some months passed away before he returned to his\npalace. In his absence a son had been born to him, and so great was\nhis joy that he quite forgot the mermaid and the price he had paid for\nthe safety of his ship. But as the years went on, and the baby grew\ninto a fine big boy, the remembrance of it came back, and one day he\ntold the queen the whole story. From that moment the happiness of both\ntheir lives was ruined. Every night they went to bed wondering if they\nshould find his room empty in the morning, and every day they kept him\nby their sides, expecting him to be snatched away before their very\neyes.\n\nAt last the king felt that this state of things could not continue,\nand he said to his wife:\n\n'After all, the most foolish thing in the world one can do is to keep\nthe boy here in exactly the place in which the mermaid will seek him.\nLet us give him food and send him on his travels, and perhaps, if the\nmermaid ever _does_ come to seek him, she may be content with some\nother child.' And the queen agreed that his plan seemed the wisest.\n\nSo the boy was called, and his father told him the story of the\nvoyage, as he had told his mother before him. The prince listened\neagerly, and was delighted to think that he was to go away all by\nhimself to see the world, and was not in the least frightened; for\nthough he was now sixteen, he had scarcely been allowed to walk alone\nbeyond the palace gardens. He began busily to make his preparations,\nand took off his smart velvet coat, putting on instead one of green\ncloth, while he refused a beautiful bag which the queen offered him to\nhold his food, and slung a leather knapsack over his shoulders\ninstead, just as he had seen other travellers do. Then he bade\nfarewell to his parents and went his way.\n\n [Illustration: THE MERMAID ASKS FOR THE KING'S CHILD]\n\nAll through the day he walked, watching with interest the strange\nbirds and animals that darted across his path in the forest or peeped\nat him from behind a bush. But as evening drew on he became tired, and\nlooked about as he walked for some place where he could sleep. At\nlength he reached a soft mossy bank under a tree, and was just about\nto stretch himself out on it, when a fearful roar made him start and\ntremble all over. In another moment something passed swiftly through\nthe air and a lion stood before him.\n\n'What are you doing here?' asked the lion, his eyes glaring fiercely\nat the boy.\n\n'I am flying from the mermaid,' the prince answered, in a quaking\nvoice.\n\n'Give me some food then,' said the lion, 'it is past my supper time,\nand I am very hungry.'\n\nThe boy was so thankful that the lion did not want to eat _him_, that\nhe gladly picked up his knapsack which lay on the ground, and held out\nsome bread and a flask of wine.\n\n'I feel better now,' said the lion when he had done, 'so now I shall\ngo to sleep on this nice soft moss, and if you like you can lie down\nbeside me.' So the boy and the lion slept soundly side by side, till\nthe sun rose.\n\n'I must be off now,' remarked the lion, shaking the boy as he spoke;\n'but cut off the tip of my ear, and keep it carefully, and if you are\nin any danger just wish yourself a lion and you will become one on the\nspot. One good turn deserves another, you know.'\n\nThe prince thanked him for his kindness, and did as he was bid, and\nthe two then bade each other farewell.\n\n'I wonder how it feels to be a lion,' thought the boy, after he had\ngone a little way; and he took out the tip of the ear from the breast\nof his jacket and wished with all his might. In an instant his head\nhad swollen to several times its usual size, and his neck seemed very\nhot and heavy; and, somehow, his hands became paws, and his skin grew\nhairy and yellow. But what pleased him most was his long tail with a\ntuft at the end, which he lashed and switched proudly. 'I like being a\nlion very much,' he said to himself, and trotted gaily along the road.\n\nAfter a while, however, he got tired of walking in this unaccustomed\nway--it made his back ache and his front paws felt sore. So he wished\nhimself a boy again, and in the twinkling of an eye his tail\ndisappeared and his head shrank, and the long thick mane became short\nand curly. Then he looked out for a sleeping place, and found some dry\nferns, which he gathered and heaped up.\n\nBut before he had time to close his eyes there was a great noise in\nthe trees near by, as if a big heavy body was crashing through them.\nThe boy rose and turned his head, and saw a huge black bear coming\ntowards him.\n\n'What are you doing here?' cried the bear.\n\n'I am running away from the mermaid,' answered the boy; but the bear\ntook no interest in the mermaid, and only said: 'I am hungry; give me\nsomething to eat.'\n\nThe knapsack was lying on the ground among the fern, but the prince\npicked it up, and, unfastening the strap, took out his second flask of\nwine and another loaf of bread. 'We will have supper together,' he\nremarked politely; but the bear, who had never been taught manners,\nmade no reply, and ate as fast as he could. When he had quite\nfinished, he got up and stretched himself.\n\n'You have got a comfortable-looking bed there,' he observed. 'I really\nthink that, bad sleeper as I am, I might have a good night on it. I\ncan manage to squeeze you in,' he added; 'you don't take up a great\ndeal of room.' The boy was rather indignant at the bear's cool way of\ntalking; but as he was too tired to gather more fern, they lay down\nside by side, and never stirred till sunrise next morning.\n\n'I must go now,' said the bear, pulling the sleepy prince on to his\nfeet; 'but first you shall cut off the tip of my ear, and when you are\nin any danger just wish yourself a bear and you will become one. One\ngood turn deserves another, you know.' And the boy did as he was bid,\nand he and the bear bade each other farewell.\n\n'I wonder how it feels to be a bear,' thought he to himself when he\nhad walked a little way; and he took out the tip from the breast of\nhis coat and wished hard that he might become a bear. The next moment\nhis body stretched out and thick black fur covered him all over. As\nbefore, his hands were changed into paws, but when he tried to switch\nhis tail he found to his disgust that it would not go any distance.\n'Why it is hardly worth calling a tail!' said he. For the rest of the\nday he remained a bear and continued his journey, but as evening came\non the bear-skin, which had been so useful when plunging through\nbrambles in the forest, felt rather heavy, and he wished himself a boy\nagain. He was too much exhausted to take the trouble of cutting any\nfern or seeking for moss, but just threw himself down under a tree,\nwhen exactly above his head he heard a great buzzing as a bumble-bee\nalighted on a honeysuckle branch. 'What are you doing here?' asked the\nbee in a cross voice; 'at your age you ought to be safe at home.'\n\n'I am running away from the mermaid,' replied the boy; but the bee,\nlike the lion and the bear, was one of those people who never listen\nto the answers to their questions, and only said: 'I am hungry. Give\nme something to eat.'\n\nThe boy took his last loaf and flask out of his knapsack and laid them\non the ground, and they had supper together. 'Well, now I am going to\nsleep,' observed the bee when the last crumb was gone, 'but as you are\nnot very big I can make room for you beside me,' and he curled up his\nwings, and tucked in his legs, and he and the prince both slept\nsoundly till morning. Then the bee got up and carefully brushed every\nscrap of dust off his velvet coat and buzzed loudly in the boy's ear\nto waken him.\n\n'Take a single hair from one of my wings,' said he, 'and if you are in\ndanger just wish yourself a bee and you will become one. One good turn\ndeserves another, so farewell, and thank you for your supper.' And the\nbee departed after the boy had pulled out the hair and wrapped it\ncarefully in a leaf.\n\n'It must feel quite different to be a bee from what it does to be a\nlion or bear,' thought the boy to himself when he had walked for an\nhour or two. 'I dare say I should get on a great deal faster,' so he\npulled out his hair and wished himself a bee.\n\nIn a moment the strangest thing happened to him. All his limbs seemed\nto draw together, and his body to become very short and round; his\nhead grew quite tiny, and instead of his white skin he was covered\nwith the richest, softest velvet. Better than all, he had two lovely\ngauze wings which carried him the whole day without getting tired.\n\nLate in the afternoon the boy fancied he saw a vast heap of stones a\nlong way off, and he flew straight towards it. But when he reached the\ngates he saw that it was really a great town, so he wished himself\nback in his own shape and entered the city.\n\nHe found the palace doors wide open and went boldly into a sort of\nhall which was full of people, and where men and maids were gossiping\ntogether. He joined their talk and soon learned from them that the\nking had only one daughter who had such a hatred to men that she would\nnever suffer one to enter her presence. Her father was in despair, and\nhad had pictures painted of the handsomest princes of all the courts\nin the world, in the hope that she might fall in love with one of\nthem; but it was no use; the princess would not even allow the\npictures to be brought into her room.\n\n [Illustration: THE PRINCESS ON THE SEASHORE]\n\n'It is late,' remarked one of the women at last; 'I must go to my\nmistress.' And, turning to one of the lackeys, she bade him find a bed\nfor the youth.\n\n'It is not necessary,' answered the prince, 'this bench is good enough\nfor me. I am used to nothing better.' And when the hall was empty he\nlay down for a few minutes. But as soon as everything was quiet in the\npalace he took out the hair and wished himself a bee, and in this\nshape he flew upstairs, past the guards, and through the keyhole into\nthe princess's chamber. Then he turned himself into a man again.\n\nAt this dreadful sight the princess, who was broad awake, began to\nscream loudly. 'A man! a man!' cried she; but when the guards rushed\nin there was only a bumble-bee buzzing about the room. They looked\nunder the bed, and behind the curtains, and into the cupboards, then\ncame to the conclusion that the princess had had a bad dream, and\nbowed themselves out. The door had scarcely closed on them than the\nbee disappeared, and a handsome youth stood in his place.\n\n'I _knew_ a man was hidden somewhere,' cried the princess, and\nscreamed more loudly than before. Her shrieks brought back the guards,\nbut though they looked in all kinds of impossible places no man was to\nbe seen, and so they told the princess.\n\n'He was here a moment ago--I saw him with my own eyes,' and the guards\ndared not contradict her, though they shook their heads and whispered\nto each other that the princess had gone mad on this subject, and saw\na man in every table and chair. And they made up their minds that--let\nher scream as loudly as she might--they would take no notice.\n\nNow the princess saw clearly what they were thinking, and that in\nfuture her guards would give her no help, and would perhaps, besides,\ntell some stories about her to the king, who would shut her up in a\nlonely tower and prevent her walking in the gardens among her birds\nand flowers. So when, for the third time, she beheld the prince\nstanding before her, she did not scream but sat up in bed gazing at\nhim in silent terror.\n\n'Do not be afraid,' he said, 'I shall not hurt you'; and he began to\npraise her gardens, of which he had heard the servants speak, and the\nbirds and flowers which she loved, till the princess's anger softened,\nand she answered him with gentle words. Indeed, they soon became so\nfriendly that she vowed she would marry no one else, and confided to\nhim that in three days her father would be off to the wars, leaving\nhis sword in her room. If any man could find it and bring it to him he\nwould receive her hand as a reward. At this point a cock crew, and the\nyouth jumped up hastily saying: 'Of course I shall ride with the king\nto the war, and if I do not return, take your violin every evening to\nthe seashore and play on it, so that the very sea-kobolds who live at\nthe bottom of the ocean may hear it and come to you.'\n\nJust as the princess had foretold, in three days the king set out for\nthe war with a large following, and among them was the young prince,\nwho had presented himself at court as a young noble in search of\nadventures. They had left the city many miles behind them, when the\nking suddenly discovered that he had forgotten his sword, and though\nall his attendants instantly offered theirs, he declared that he could\nfight with none but his own.\n\n'The first man who brings it to me from my daughter's room,' cried he,\n'shall not only have her to wife, but after my death shall reign in my\nstead.'\n\nAt this the Red Knight, the young prince, and several more turned\ntheir horses to ride as fast as the wind back to the palace. But\nsuddenly a better plan entered the prince's head, and, letting the\nothers pass him, he took his precious parcel from his breast and\nwished himself a lion. Then on he bounded, uttering such dreadful\nroars that the horses were frightened and grew unmanageable, and he\neasily outstripped them, and soon reached the gates of the palace.\nHere he hastily changed himself into a bee, and flew straight into the\nprincess's room, where he became a man again. She showed him where the\nsword hung concealed behind a curtain, and he took it down, saying as\nhe did so: 'Be sure not to forget what you have promised to do.'\n\nThe princess made no reply, but smiled sweetly, and slipping a golden\nring from her finger she broke it in two and held half out silently to\nthe prince, while the other half she put in her own pocket. He kissed\nit, and ran down the stairs bearing the sword with him. Some way off\nhe met the Red Knight and the rest, and the Red Knight at first tried\nto take the sword from him by force. But as the youth proved too\nstrong for him, he gave it up, and resolved to wait for a better\nopportunity.\n\nThis soon came, for the day was hot and the prince was thirsty.\nPerceiving a little stream that ran into the sea, he turned aside,\nand, unbuckling the sword, flung himself on the ground for a long\ndrink. Unluckily, the mermaid happened at that moment to be floating\non the water not very far off, and knew he was the boy who had been\ngiven her before he was born. So she floated gently in to where he was\nlying, she seized him by the arm, and the waves closed over them both.\nHardly had they disappeared, when the Red Knight stole cautiously up,\nand could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the king's sword on the\nbank. He wondered what had become of the youth, who an hour before had\nguarded his treasure so fiercely; but, after all, that was no affair\nof his! So, fastening the sword to his belt, he carried it to the\nking.\n\nThe war was soon over, and the king returned to his people, who\nwelcomed him with shouts of joy. But when the princess from her window\nsaw that her betrothed was not among the attendants riding behind her\nfather, her heart sank, for she knew that some evil must have befallen\nhim, and she feared the Red Knight. She had long ago learned how\nclever and how wicked he was, and something whispered to her that it\nwas _he_ who would gain the credit of having carried back the sword,\nand would claim her as his bride, though he had never even entered her\nchamber. And she could do nothing; for although the king loved her, he\nnever let her stand in the way of his plans.\n\nThe poor princess was only too right, and everything came to pass\nexactly as she had foreseen it. The king told her that the Red Knight\nhad won her fairly, and that the wedding would take place next day,\nand there would be a great feast after it.\n\nIn those days feasts were much longer and more splendid than they are\nnow; and it was growing dark when the princess, tired out with all she\nhad gone through, stole up to her own room for a little quiet. But the\nmoon was shining so brightly over the sea that it seemed to draw her\ntowards it, and taking her violin under her arm, she crept down to the\nshore.\n\n'Listen! listen!' said the mermaid to the prince, who was lying\nstretched on a bed of seaweeds at the bottom of the sea. 'Listen! that\nis your old love playing, for mermaids know everything that happens\nupon earth.'\n\n'I hear nothing,' answered the youth, who did not look happy. 'Take me\nup higher, where the sounds can reach me.'\n\nSo the mermaid took him on her shoulders and bore him up midway to the\nsurface. 'Can you hear now?' she asked.\n\n'No,' answered the prince, 'I hear nothing but the water rushing; I\nmust go higher still.'\n\nThen the mermaid carried him to the very top. 'You must surely be able\nto hear _now_?' said she.\n\n'Nothing but the water,' repeated the youth. So she took him right to\nthe land.\n\n'At any rate you can hear _now_?' she said again.\n\n [Illustration: 'LISTEN, LISTEN!' SAID THE MERMAID TO THE PRINCE]\n\n'The water is still rushing in my ears,' answered he; 'but wait a\nlittle, that will soon pass off.' And as he spoke he put his hand\ninto his breast, and seizing the hair wished himself a bee, and flew\nstraight into the pocket of the princess. The mermaid looked in vain\nfor him, and floated all night upon the sea; but he never came back,\nand never more did he gladden her eyes. But the princess felt that\nsomething strange was about her, though she knew not what, and\nreturned quickly to the palace, where the young man at once resumed\nhis own shape. Oh, what joy filled her heart at the sight of him! But\nthere was no time to be lost, and she led him right into the hall,\nwhere the king and his nobles were still sitting at the feast. 'Here\nis a man who boasts that he can do wonderful tricks,' said she,\n'better even than the Red Knight's! That cannot be true, of course;\nbut it might be well to give this impostor a lesson. He pretends, for\ninstance, that he can turn himself into a lion; but that I do not\nbelieve. I know that you have studied the art of magic,' she went on,\nturning to the Red Knight, 'so suppose you just show him how it is\ndone, and bring shame upon him.'\n\nNow the Red Knight had never opened a book of magic in his life; but\nhe was accustomed to think that he could do everything better than\nother people without any teaching at all. So he turned and twisted\nhimself about, and bellowed and made faces; but he did not become a\nlion for all that.\n\n'Well, perhaps it _is_ very difficult to change into a lion. Make\nyourself a bear,' said the princess. But the Red Knight found it no\neasier to become a bear than a lion.\n\n'Try a bee,' suggested she. 'I have always read that anyone who can do\nmagic at all can do that.' And the old knight buzzed and hummed, but\nhe remained a man and not a bee.\n\n'Now it is your turn,' said the princess to the youth. 'Let us see if\nyou can change yourself into a lion.' And in a moment such a fierce\ncreature stood before them, that all the guests rushed out of the\nhall, treading each other underfoot in their fright. The lion sprang\nat the Red Knight, and would have torn him in pieces had not the\nprincess held him back, and bidden him to change himself into a man\nagain. And in a second a man took the place of the lion.\n\n'Now become a bear,' said she; and a bear advanced panting and\nstretching out his arms to the Red Knight, who shrank behind the\nprincess.\n\nBy this time some of the guests had regained their courage, and\nreturned as far as the door, thinking that if it was safe for the\nprincess perhaps it was safe for them. The king, who was braver than\nthey, and felt it needful to set them a good example besides, had\nnever left his seat, and when at a new command of the princess the\nbear once more turned into a man, he was silent from astonishment, and\na suspicion of the truth began to dawn on him. 'Was it _he_ who\nfetched the sword?' asked the king.\n\n'Yes, it was,' answered the princess; and she told him the whole\nstory, and how she had broken her gold ring and given him half of it.\nAnd the prince took out his half of the ring, and the princess took\nout hers, and they fitted exactly. Next day the Red Knight was hanged,\nas he richly deserved, and there was a new marriage feast for the\nprince and princess.\n\n[_Lappl\u00e4ndische M\u00e4hrchen._]\n\n [Illustration: THE BEE, THE PRINCESS, THE RED KNIGHT, & THE LION]\n\n\n\n\n_PIVI AND KABO_\n\n\nWhen birds were men, and men were birds, Pivi and Kabo lived in an\nisland far away, called New Caledonia. Pivi was a cheery little bird\nthat chirps at sunset; Kabo was an ugly black fowl that croaks in the\ndarkness. One day Pivi and Kabo thought that they would make slings,\nand practise slinging, as the people of the island still do. So they\nwent to a banyan tree, and stripped the bark to make strings for their\nslings, and next they repaired to the river bank to find stones. Kabo\nstood on the bank of the river, and Pivi went into the water. The game\nwas for Kabo to sling at Pivi, and for Pivi to dodge the stones, if he\ncould. For some time he dodged them cleverly, but at last a stone from\nKabo's sling hit poor Pivi on the leg and broke it. Down went Pivi\ninto the stream, and floated along it, till he floated into a big\nhollow bamboo, which a woman used for washing her sweet potatoes.\n\n'What is that in my bamboo?' said the woman. And she blew in at one\nend, and blew little Pivi out at the other, like a pea from a\npea-shooter.\n\n'Oh!' cried the woman, 'what a state you are in! What have you been\ndoing?'\n\n'It was Kabo who broke my leg at the slinging game,' said Pivi.\n\n'Well, I am sorry for you,' said the woman; 'will you come with me,\nand do what I tell you?'\n\n'I will!' said Pivi, for the woman was very kind and pretty. She took\nPivi into a shed where she kept her fruit, laid him on a bed of mats,\nand made him as comfortable as she could, and attended to his broken\nleg without cutting off the flesh round the bone, as these people\nusually do.\n\n'You will be still, won't you, Pivi?' she said. 'If you hear a little\nnoise you will pretend to be dead. It is the Black Ant who will come\nand creep from your feet up to your head. Say nothing, and keep quiet,\nwon't you, Pivi?'\n\n'Certainly, kind lady,' said Pivi, 'I will lie as still as can be.'\n\n'Next will come the big Red Ant--you know him?'\n\n'Yes, I know him, with his feet like a grasshopper's.'\n\n'He will walk over your body up to your head. Then you must shake all\nyour body. Do you understand, Pivi?'\n\n'Yes, dear lady, I shall do just as you say.'\n\n'Very good,' said the woman, going out and shutting the door.\n\nPivi lay still under his coverings, then a tiny noise was heard, and\nthe Black Ant began to march over Pivi, who lay quite still. Then came\nthe big Red Ant skipping along his body, and then Pivi shook himself\nall over. He jumped up quite well again, he ran to the river, he\nlooked into the water and saw that he was changed from a bird into a\nfine young man!\n\n'Oh, lady,' he cried, 'look at me now! I am changed into a man, and so\nhandsome!'\n\n'Will you obey me again?' said the woman.\n\n'Always; whatever you command I will do it,' said Pivi, politely.\n\n'Then climb up that cocoa-nut tree, with your legs only, not using\nyour hands,' said the woman.\n\nNow the natives can run up cocoa-nut trees like squirrels, some using\nonly one hand; the girls can do that. But few can climb without using\ntheir hands at all.\n\n'At the top of the tree you will find two cocoa-nuts. You must not\nthrow them down, but carry them in your hands; and you must descend\nas you went up, using your legs only.'\n\n'I shall try, at least,' said Pivi. And up he went, but it was very\ndifficult, and down he came.\n\n'Here are your cocoa-nuts,' he said, presenting them to the woman.\n\n'Now, Pivi, put them in the shed where you lay, and when the sun sets\nto cool himself in the sea and rise again not so hot in the dawn you\nmust go and take the nuts.'\n\nAll day Pivi played about in the river, as the natives do, throwing\nfruit and silvery showers of water at each other. When the sun set he\nwent into the hut. But as he drew near he heard sweet voices talking\nand laughing within.\n\n'What is that? People chattering in the hut! Perhaps they have taken\nmy cocoa-nuts,' said Pivi to himself.\n\nIn he went, and there he found two pretty, laughing, teasing girls. He\nhunted for his cocoa-nuts, but none were there.\n\nDown he ran to the river. 'Oh, lady, my nuts have been stolen!' he\ncried.\n\n'Come with me, Pivi, and there will be nuts for you,' said the woman.\n\nThey went back to the hut, where the girls were laughing and playing.\n\n'Nuts for you?' said the woman, 'there are two wives for you, Pivi,\ntake them to your house.'\n\n'Oh, good lady,' cried Pivi, 'how kind you are!'\n\nSo they were married and very happy, when in came cross old Kabo.\n\n'Is this Pivi?' said he. 'Yes, it is--no, it isn't. It is not the same\nPivi--but there is a kind of likeness. Tell me, _are_ you Pivi?'\n\n'Oh, yes!' said Pivi. 'But I am much better looking, and there are my\ntwo wives, are they not beautiful?'\n\n'You are mocking me, Pivi! Your wives? How? Where did you get them?\n_You_, with wives!'\n\nThen Pivi told Kabo about the kind woman, and all the wonderful things\nthat had happened to him.\n\n'Well, well!' said Kabo, 'but I want to be handsome too, and to have\npretty young wives.'\n\n'But how can we manage that?' asked Pivi.\n\n'Oh, we shall do all the same things over again--play at slinging,\nand, this time, you shall break my leg, Pivi!'\n\n'With all the pleasure in life,' said Pivi, who was always ready to\noblige.\n\nSo they went slinging, and Pivi broke Kabo's leg, and Kabo fell into\nthe river, and floated into the bamboo, and the woman blew him out,\njust as before. Then she picked up Kabo, and put him in the shed, and\ntold him what to do when the Black Ant came, and what to do when the\nRed Ant came. But he didn't!\n\nWhen the Black Ant came, he shook himself, and behold, he had a\ntwisted leg, and a hump back, and was as black as the ant.\n\nThen he ran to the woman.\n\n'Look, what a figure I am!' he said; but she only told him to climb\nthe tree, as she had told Pivi.\n\nBut Kabo climbed with both hands and feet, and he threw down the nuts,\ninstead of carrying them down, and he put them in the hut. And when he\nwent back for them there he found two horrid old black hags,\nwrangling, and scolding, and scratching! So back he went to Pivi with\nhis two beautiful wives, and Pivi was very sorry, but what could he\ndo? Nothing, but sit and cry.\n\nSo, one day, Kabo came and asked Pivi to sail in his canoe to a place\nwhere he knew of a great big shell-fish, enough to feed on for a week.\nPivi went, and deep in the clear water they saw a monstrous\nshell-fish, like an oyster, as big as a rock, with the shell wide\nopen.\n\n'We shall catch it, and dry it, and kipper it,' said Pivi, 'and give a\ndinner to all our friends!'\n\n [Illustration: PIVI DIVES FOR THE SHELL-FISH]\n\n'I shall dive for it, and break it off the rock,' said Kabo, 'and\nthen you must help me to drag it up into the canoe.'\n\nThere the shell-fish lay and gaped, but Kabo, though he dived in, kept\nwell out of the way of the beast.\n\nUp he came, puffing and blowing: 'Oh, Pivi,' he cried, 'I cannot move\nit. Jump in and try yourself!'\n\nPivi dived, with his spear, and the shell-fish opened its shell wider\nyet, and sucked, and Pivi disappeared into its mouth, and the shell\nshut up with a snap!\n\nKabo laughed like a fiend, and then went home.\n\n'Where is Pivi?' asked the two pretty girls. Kabo pretended to cry,\nand told how Pivi had been swallowed.\n\n'But dry your tears, my darlings,' said Kabo, 'I will be your husband,\nand my wives shall be your slaves. Everything is for the best, in the\nbest of all possible worlds.'\n\n'No, no!' cried the girls, 'we love Pivi. We do not love anyone else.\nWe shall stay at home, and weep for Pivi!'\n\n'Wretched idiots!' cried Kabo; 'Pivi was a scoundrel who broke my leg,\nand knocked me into the river.'\n\nThen a little cough was heard at the door, and Kabo trembled, for he\nknew it was the cough of Pivi!\n\n'Ah, dear Pivi!' cried Kabo, rushing to the door. 'What joy! I was\ntrying to console your dear wives.'\n\nPivi said not one word. He waved his hand, and five and twenty of his\nfriends came trooping down the hill. They cut up Kabo into little\npieces. Pivi turned round, and there was the good woman of the river.\n\n'Pivi,' she said, 'how did you get out of the living tomb into which\nKabo sent you?'\n\n'I had my spear with me,' said Pivi. 'It was quite dry inside the\nshell, and I worked away at the fish with my spear, till he saw reason\nto open his shell, and out I came.' Then the good woman laughed; and\nPivi and his two wives lived happy ever afterwards.\n\n[_Moncelon. Bulletin de la Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 d'Anthropologie._ Series iii.\nvol. ix., pp. 613-365.]\n\n\n\n\n_THE ELF MAIDEN_\n\n\nOnce upon a time two young men living in a small village fell in love\nwith the same girl. During the winter, it was all night except for an\nhour or so about noon, when the darkness seemed a little less dark,\nand then they used to see which of them could tempt her out for a\nsleigh ride with the Northern Lights flashing above them, or which\ncould persuade her to come to a dance in some neighbouring barn. But\nwhen the spring began, and the light grew longer, the hearts of the\nvillagers leapt at the sight of the sun, and a day was fixed for the\nboats to be brought out, and the great nets to be spread in the bays\nof some islands that lay a few miles to the north. Everybody went on\nthis expedition, and the two young men and the girl went with them.\n\nThey all sailed merrily across the sea chattering like a flock of\nmagpies, or singing their favourite songs. And when they reached the\nshore, what an unpacking there was! For this was a noted fishing\nground, and here they would live, in little wooden huts, till autumn\nand bad weather came round again.\n\nThe maiden and the two young men happened to share the same hut with\nsome friends, and fished daily from the same boat. And as time went\non, one of the youths remarked that the girl took less notice of him\nthan she did of his companion. At first he tried to think that he was\ndreaming, and for a long while he kept his eyes shut very tight to\nwhat he did not want to see, but in spite of his efforts, the truth\nmanaged to wriggle through, and then the young man gave up trying to\ndeceive himself, and set about finding some way to get the better of\nhis rival.\n\nThe plan that he hit upon could not be carried out for some months;\nbut the longer the young man thought of it, the more pleased he was\nwith it, so he made no sign of his feelings, and waited patiently till\nthe moment came. This was the very day that they were all going to\nleave the islands, and sail back to the mainland for the winter. In\nthe bustle and hurry of departure, the cunning fisherman contrived\nthat their boat should be the last to put off, and when everything was\nready, and the sails about to be set, he suddenly called out:\n\n'Oh, dear, what shall I do! I have left my best knife behind in the\nhut. Run, like a good fellow, and get it for me, while I raise the\nanchor and loosen the tiller.'\n\nNot thinking any harm, the youth jumped back on shore and made his way\nup the steep bank. At the door of the hut he stopped and looked back,\nthen started and gazed in horror. The head of the boat stood out to\nsea, and he was left alone on the island.\n\nYes, there was no doubt of it--he was quite alone; and he had nothing\nto help him except the knife which his comrade had purposely dropped\non the ledge of the window. For some minutes he was too stunned by the\ntreachery of his friend to think about anything at all, but after a\nwhile he shook himself awake, and determined that he would manage to\nkeep alive somehow, if it were only to revenge himself.\n\nSo he put the knife in his pocket and went off to a part of the island\nwhich was not so bare as the rest, and had a small grove of trees.\nFrom one of these he cut himself a bow, which he strung with a piece\nof cord that had been left lying about the huts.\n\nWhen this was ready the young man ran down to the shore and shot one\nor two sea-birds, which he plucked and cooked for supper.\n\nIn this way the months slipped by, and Christmas came round again.\nThe evening before, the youth went down to the rocks and into the\ncopse, collecting all the drift wood the sea had washed up or the gale\nhad blown down, and he piled it up in a great stack outside the door,\nso that he might not have to fetch any all the next day. As soon as\nhis task was done, he paused and looked out towards the mainland,\nthinking of Christmas Eve last year, and the merry dance they had had.\nThe night was still and cold, and by the help of the Northern Lights\nhe could almost see across to the opposite coast, when, suddenly, he\nnoticed a boat, which seemed steering straight for the island. At\nfirst he could hardly stand for joy, the chance of speaking to another\nman was so delightful; but as the boat drew near there was something,\nhe could not tell what, that was different from the boats which he had\nbeen used to all his life, and when it touched the shore he saw that\nthe people that filled it were beings of another world than ours. Then\nhe hastily stepped behind the wood stack, and waited for what might\nhappen next.\n\nThe strange folk one by one jumped on to the rocks, each bearing a\nload of something that they wanted. Among the women he remarked two\nyoung girls, more beautiful and better dressed than any of the rest,\ncarrying between them two great baskets full of provisions. The young\nman peeped out cautiously to see what all this crowd could be doing\ninside the tiny hut, but in a moment he drew back again, as the girls\nreturned, and looked about as if they wanted to find out what sort of\na place the island was.\n\nTheir sharp eyes soon discovered the form of a man crouching behind\nthe bundles of sticks, and at first they felt a little frightened, and\nstarted as if they would run away. But the youth remained so still,\nthat they took courage and laughed gaily to each other. 'What a\nstrange creature, let us try what he is made of,' said one, and she\nstooped down and gave him a pinch.\n\nNow the young man had a pin sticking in the sleeve of his jacket, and\nthe moment the girl's hand touched him she pricked it so sharply that\nthe blood came. The girl screamed so loudly that the people all ran\nout of their huts to see what was the matter. But directly they caught\nsight of the man they turned and fled in the other direction, and\npicking up the goods they had brought with them scampered as fast as\nthey could down to the shore. In an instant, boat, people, and goods\nhad vanished completely.\n\nIn their hurry they had, however, forgotten two things: a bundle of\nkeys which lay on the table, and the girl whom the pin had pricked,\nand who now stood pale and helpless beside the wood stack.\n\n'You will have to make me your wife,' she said at last, 'for you have\ndrawn my blood, and I belong to you.'\n\n'Why not? I am quite willing,' answered he. 'But how do you suppose we\ncan manage to live till summer comes round again?'\n\n'Do not be anxious about that,' said the girl; 'if you will only marry\nme all will be well. I am very rich, and all my family are rich also.'\n\nThen the young man gave her his promise to make her his wife, and the\ngirl fulfilled her part of the bargain, and food was plentiful on the\nisland all through the long winter months, though he never knew how it\ngot there. And by-and-by it was spring once more, and time for the\nfisher-folk to sail from the mainland.\n\n'Where are we to go now?' asked the girl, one day, when the sun seemed\nbrighter and the wind softer than usual.\n\n'I do not care where I go,' answered the young man; 'what do you\nthink?'\n\nThe girl replied that she would like to go somewhere right at the\nother end of the island, and build a house, far away from the huts of\nthe fishing-folk. And he consented, and that very day they set off in\nsearch of a sheltered spot on the banks of a stream, so that it would\nbe easy to get water.\n\nIn a tiny bay, on the opposite side of the island, they found the very\nthing, which seemed to have been made on purpose for them; and as they\nwere tired with their long walk, they laid themselves down on a bank\nof moss among some birches and prepared to have a good night's rest,\nso as to be fresh for work next day. But before she went to sleep the\ngirl turned to her husband, and said: 'If in your dreams you fancy\nthat you hear strange noises, be sure you do not stir, or get up to\nsee what it is.'\n\n'Oh, it is not likely we shall hear any noises in such a quiet place,'\nanswered he, and fell sound asleep.\n\nSuddenly he was awakened by a great clatter about his ears, as if all\nthe workmen in the world were sawing and hammering and building close\nto him. He was just going to spring up and go to see what it meant,\nwhen he luckily remembered his wife's words and lay still. But the\ntime till morning seemed very long, and with the first ray of sun they\nboth rose, and pushed aside the branches of the birch trees. There, in\nthe very place they had chosen, stood a beautiful house--doors and\nwindows, and everything all complete!\n\n'Now you must fix on a spot for your cow-stalls,' said the girl, when\nthey had breakfasted off wild cherries; 'and take care it is the\nproper size, neither too large nor too small.' And the husband did as\nhe was bid, though he wondered what use a cow-house could be, as they\nhad no cows to put in it. But as he was a little afraid of his wife,\nwho knew so much more than he, he asked no questions.\n\nThis night also he was awakened by the same sounds as before, and in\nthe morning they found, near the stream, the most beautiful cow-house\nthat ever was seen, with stalls and milk-pails and stools all\ncomplete, indeed, everything that a cow-house could possibly want,\nexcept the cows. Then the girl bade him measure out the ground for a\nstorehouse, and this, she said, might be as large as he pleased; and\nwhen the storehouse was ready she proposed that they should set off to\npay her parents a visit.\n\n [Illustration: THE ELF MAIDEN'S HOUSE]\n\nThe old people welcomed them heartily, and summoned their neighbours,\nfor many miles round, to a great feast in their honour. In fact, for\nseveral weeks there was no work done on the farm at all; and at\nlength the young man and his wife grew tired of so much play, and\ndeclared that they must return to their own home. But, before they\nstarted on the journey, the wife whispered to her husband: 'Take care\nto jump over the threshold as quick as you can, or it will be the\nworse for you.'\n\nThe young man listened to her words, and sprang over the threshold\nlike an arrow from a bow; and it was well he did, for, no sooner was\nhe on the other side, than his father-in-law threw a great hammer at\nhim, which would have broken both his legs, if it had only touched\nthem.\n\nWhen they had gone some distance on the road home, the girl turned to\nher husband and said: 'Till you step inside the house, be sure you do\nnot look back, whatever you may hear or see.'\n\nAnd the husband promised, and for a while all was still; and he\nthought no more about the matter till he noticed at last that the\nnearer he drew to the house the louder grew the noise of the trampling\nof feet behind him. As he laid his hand upon the door he thought he\nwas safe, and turned to look. There, sure enough, was a vast herd of\ncattle, which had been sent after him by his father-in-law when he\nfound that his daughter had been cleverer than he. Half of the herd\nwere already through the fence and cropping the grass on the banks of\nthe stream, but half still remained outside and faded into nothing,\neven as he watched them.\n\nHowever, enough cattle were left to make the young man rich, and he\nand his wife lived happily together, except that every now and then\nthe girl vanished from his sight, and never told him where she had\nbeen. For a long time he kept silence about it; but one day, when he\nhad been complaining of her absence, she said to him: 'Dear husband, I\nam bound to go, even against my will, and there is only one way to\nstop me. Drive a nail into the threshold, and then I can never pass in\nor out.'\n\nAnd so he did.\n\n[_Lappl\u00e4ndische M\u00e4hrchen._]\n\n\n\n\n_HOW SOME WILD ANIMALS BECAME TAME ONES_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a miller who was so rich that, when he\nwas going to be married, he asked to the feast not only his own\nfriends but also the wild animals who dwelt in the hills and woods\nround about. The chief of the bears, the wolves, the foxes, the\nhorses, the cows, the goats, the sheep, and the reindeer, all received\ninvitations; and as they were not accustomed to weddings they were\ngreatly pleased and flattered, and sent back messages in the politest\nlanguage that they would certainly be there.\n\nThe first to start on the morning of the wedding-day was the bear, who\nalways liked to be punctual; and, besides, he had a long way to go,\nand his hair, being so thick and rough, needed a good brushing before\nit was fit to be seen at a party. However, he took care to awaken very\nearly, and set off down the road with a light heart. Before he had\nwalked very far he met a boy who came whistling along, hitting at the\ntops of the flowers with a stick.\n\n'Where are you going?' said he, looking at the bear in surprise, for\nhe was an old acquaintance, and not generally so smart.\n\n'Oh, just to the miller's marriage,' answered the bear carelessly. 'Of\ncourse, I would much rather stay at home, but the miller was so\nanxious I should be there that I really could not refuse.'\n\n'Don't go, don't go!' cried the boy. 'If you do you will never come\nback! You have got the most beautiful skin in the world--just the kind\nthat everyone is wanting, and they will be sure to kill you and strip\nyou of it.'\n\n'I had not thought of that,' said the bear, whose face turned white,\nonly nobody could see it. 'If you are certain that they would be so\nwicked--but perhaps you are jealous because nobody has invited _you_?'\n\n'Oh, nonsense!' replied the boy angrily, 'do as you see. It is your\nskin, and not mine; _I_ don't care what becomes of it!' And he walked\nquickly on with his head in the air.\n\nThe bear waited until he was out of sight, and then followed him\nslowly, for he felt in his heart that the boy's advice was good,\nthough he was too proud to say so.\n\nThe boy soon grew tired of walking along the road, and turned off into\nthe woods, where there were bushes he could jump and streams he could\nwade; but he had not gone far before he met the wolf.\n\n'Where are you going?' asked he, for it was not the first time he had\nseen him.\n\n'Oh, just to the miller's marriage,' answered the wolf, as the bear\nhad done before him. 'It is rather tiresome, of course--weddings are\nalways so stupid; but still one must be good-natured!'\n\n'Don't go!' said the boy again. 'Your skin is so thick and warm, and\nwinter is not far off now. They will kill you, and strip it from you.'\n\nThe wolf's jaw dropped in astonishment and terror. 'Do you _really_\nthink that would happen?' he gasped.\n\n'Yes, to be sure, I do,' answered the boy. 'But it is your affair, not\nmine. So good-morning,' and on he went. The wolf stood still for a few\nminutes, for he was trembling all over, and then crept quietly back to\nhis cave.\n\nNext the boy met the fox, whose lovely coat of silvery grey was\nshining in the sun.\n\n'You look very fine!' said the boy, stopping to admire him, 'are you\ngoing to the miller's wedding too?'\n\n'Yes,' answered the fox; 'it is a long journey to take for such a\nthing as that, but you know what the miller's friends are like--so\ndull and heavy! It is only kind to go and amuse them a little.'\n\n'You poor fellow,' said the boy pityingly. 'Take my advice and stay at\nhome. If you once enter the miller's gate his dogs will tear you in\npieces.'\n\n'Ah, well, such things _have_ occurred, I know,' replied the fox\ngravely. And without saying any more he trotted off the way he had\ncome.\n\nHis tail had scarcely disappeared, when a great noise of crashing\nbranches was heard, and up bounded the horse, his black skin\nglistening like satin.\n\n'Good-morning,' he called to the boy as he galloped past, 'I can't\nwait to talk to you now. I have promised the miller to be present at\nhis wedding-feast, and they won't sit down till I come.'\n\n'Stop! stop!' cried the boy after him, and there was something in his\nvoice that made the horse pull up. 'What is the matter?' asked he.\n\n'You don't know what you are doing,' said the boy. 'If once you go\nthere you will never gallop through these woods any more. You are\nstronger than many men, but they will catch you and put ropes round\nyou, and you will have to work and to serve them all the days of your\nlife.'\n\nThe horse threw back his head at these words, and laughed scornfully.\n\n'Yes, I am stronger than many men,' answered he, 'and all the ropes in\nthe world would not hold me. Let them bind me as fast as they will, I\ncan always break loose, and return to the forest and freedom.'\n\nAnd with this proud speech he gave a whisk of his long tail, and\ngalloped away faster than before.\n\nBut when he reached the miller's house everything happened as the boy\nhad said. While he was looking at the guests and thinking how much\nhandsomer and stronger he was than any of them, a rope was suddenly\nflung over his head, and he was thrown down and a bit thrust between\nhis teeth. Then, in spite of his struggles, he was dragged to a\nstable, and shut up for several days without any food, till his spirit\nwas broken and his coat had lost its gloss. After that he was\nharnessed to a plough, and had plenty of time to remember all he had\nlost through not listening to the counsel of the boy.\n\nWhen the horse had turned a deaf ear to his words the boy wandered\nidly along, sometimes gathering wild strawberries from a bank, and\nsometimes plucking wild cherries from a tree, till he reached a\nclearing in the middle of the forest. Crossing this open space was a\nbeautiful milk-white cow with a wreath of flowers round her neck.\n\n'Good-morning,' she said pleasantly, as she came up to the place where\nthe boy was standing.\n\n'Good-morning,' he returned. 'Where are you going in such a hurry?'\n\n'To the miller's wedding; I am rather late already, for the wreath\ntook such a long time to make, so I can't stop.'\n\n'Don't go,' said the boy earnestly; 'when once they have tasted your\nmilk they will never let you leave them, and you will have to serve\nthem all the days of your life.'\n\n'Oh, nonsense; what do _you_ know about it?' answered the cow, who\nalways thought she was wiser than other people. 'Why, I can run twice\nas fast as any of them! I should like to see anybody try to keep me\nagainst my will.' And, without even a polite bow, she went on her way,\nfeeling very much offended.\n\nBut everything turned out just as the boy had said. The company had\nall heard of the fame of the cow's milk, and persuaded her to give\nthem some, and then her doom was sealed. A crowd gathered round her,\nand held her horns so that she could not use them, and, like the\nhorse, she was shut in the stable, and only let out in the mornings,\nwhen a long rope was tied round her head, and she was fastened to a\nstake in a grassy meadow.\n\nAnd so it happened to the goat and to the sheep.\n\nLast of all came the reindeer, looking as he always did, as if some\nserious business was on hand.\n\n'Where are you going?' asked the boy, who by this time was tired of\nwild cherries, and was thinking of his dinner.\n\n'I am invited to the wedding,' answered the reindeer, 'and the miller\nhas begged me on no account to fail him.'\n\n'O fool!' cried the boy, 'have you no sense at all? Don't you know\nthat when you get there they will hold you fast, for neither beast nor\nbird is as strong or as swift as you?'\n\n'That is exactly why I am quite safe,' replied the reindeer. 'I am so\nstrong that no one can bind me, and so swift that not even an arrow\ncan catch me. So, good-bye for the present, you will soon see me\nback.'\n\nBut none of the animals that went to the miller's wedding ever came\nback. And because they were self-willed and conceited, and would not\nlisten to good advice, they and their children have been the servants\nof men to this very day.\n\n[_Lappl\u00e4ndische M\u00e4hrchen._]\n\n\n\n\n_FORTUNE AND THE WOOD-CUTTER_\n\n\nSeveral hundreds of years ago there lived in a forest a wood-cutter\nand his wife and children. He was very poor, having only his axe to\ndepend upon, and two mules to carry the wood he cut to the\nneighbouring town; but he worked hard, and was always out of bed by\nfive o'clock, summer and winter.\n\nThis went on for twenty years, and though his sons were now grown up,\nand went with their father to the forest, everything seemed to go\nagainst them, and they remained as poor as ever. In the end the\nwood-cutter lost heart, and said to himself:\n\n'What is the good of working like this if I never am a penny the\nricher at the end? I shall go to the forest no more! And perhaps, if I\ntake to my bed, and do not run after Fortune, one day she may come to\nme.'\n\nSo the next morning he did not get up, and when six o'clock struck,\nhis wife, who had been cleaning the house, went to see what was the\nmatter.\n\n'Are you ill?' she asked wonderingly, surprised at not finding him\ndressed. 'The cock has crowed ever so often. It is high time for you\nto get up.'\n\n'Why should I get up?' asked the man, without moving.\n\n'Why? to go to the forest, of course.'\n\n'Yes; and when I have toiled all day I hardly earn enough to give us\none meal.'\n\n'But what can we do, my poor husband?' said she. 'It is just a trick\nof Fortune's, who would never smile upon us.'\n\n'Well, I have had my fill of Fortune's tricks,' cried he. 'If she\nwants me she can find me here. But I have done with the wood for\never.'\n\n'My dear husband, grief has driven you mad! Do you think Fortune will\ncome to anybody who does not go after her? Dress yourself, and saddle\nthe mules, and begin your work. Do you know that there is not a morsel\nof bread in the house?'\n\n'I don't care if there isn't, and I am not going to the forest. It is\nno use your talking; nothing will make me change my mind.'\n\nThe distracted wife begged and implored in vain; her husband persisted\nin staying in bed, and at last, in despair, she left him and went back\nto her work.\n\nAn hour or two later a man from the nearest village knocked at the\ndoor, and when she opened it, he said to her: 'Good-morning, mother. I\nhave got a job to do, and I want to know if your husband will lend me\nyour mules, as I see he is not using them, and can lend me a hand\nhimself?'\n\n'He is upstairs; you had better ask him,' answered the woman. And the\nman went up, and repeated his request.\n\n'I am sorry, neighbour, but I have sworn not to leave my bed, and\nnothing will make me break my vow.'\n\n'Well, then, will you lend me your two mules? I will pay you something\nfor them.'\n\n'Certainly, neighbour. Take them and welcome.'\n\nSo the man left the house, and leading the mules from the stable,\nplaced two sacks on their back, and drove them to a field where he had\nfound a hidden treasure. He filled the sacks with the money, though he\nknew perfectly well that it belonged to the sultan, and was driving\nthem quietly home again, when he saw two soldiers coming along the\nroad. Now the man was aware that if he was caught he would be\ncondemned to death, so he fled back into the forest. The mules, left\nto themselves, took the path that led to their master's stable.\n\nThe wood-cutter's wife was looking out of the window when the mules\ndrew up before the door, so heavily laden that they almost sank under\ntheir burdens. She lost no time in calling her husband, who was still\nlying in bed.\n\n'Quick, quick! get up as fast as you can. Our two mules have returned\nwith sacks on their backs, so heavily laden with something or other\nthat the poor beasts can hardly stand up.'\n\n'Wife, I have told you a dozen times already that I am not going to\nget up. Why can't you leave me in peace?'\n\nAs she found she could get no help from her husband the woman took a\nlarge knife and cut the cords which bound the sacks on to the animals'\nbacks. They fell at once to the ground, and out poured a rain of gold\npieces, till the little courtyard shone like the sun.\n\n'A treasure!' gasped the woman, as soon as she could speak from\nsurprise. 'A treasure!' And she ran off to tell her husband.\n\n'Get up! get up!' she cried. 'You were quite right not to go to the\nforest, and to await Fortune in your bed; she has come at last! Our\nmules have returned home laden with all the gold in the world, and it\nis now lying in the court. No one in the whole country can be as rich\nas we are!'\n\nIn an instant the wood-cutter was on his feet, and running to the\ncourt, where he paused, dazzled by the glitter of the coins which lay\naround him.\n\n'You see, my dear wife, that I was right,' he said at last. 'Fortune\nis so capricious, you can never count on her. Run after her, and she\nis sure to fly from you; stay still, and she is sure to come.'\n\n[_Traditions Populaires de l'Asie Mineure._]\n\n\n\n\n_THE ENCHANTED HEAD_\n\n\nOnce upon a time an old woman lived in a small cottage near the sea\nwith her two daughters. They were very poor, and the girls seldom left\nthe house, as they worked all day long making veils for the ladies to\nwear over their faces, and every morning, when the veils were\nfinished, the mother took them over the bridge and sold them in the\ncity. Then she bought the food that they needed for the day, and\nreturned home to do her share of veil-making.\n\nOne morning the old woman rose even earlier than usual, and set off\nfor the city with her wares. She was just crossing the bridge when,\nsuddenly, she knocked up against a human head, which she had never\nseen there before. The woman started back in horror; but what was her\nsurprise when the head spoke, exactly as if it had a body joined on to\nit.\n\n'Take me with you, good mother!' it said imploringly; 'take me with\nyou back to your house.'\n\nAt the sound of these words the poor woman nearly went mad with\nterror. Have that horrible thing always at home? Never! never! And she\nturned and ran back as fast as she could, not knowing that the head\nwas jumping, dancing, and rolling after her. But when she reached her\nown door it bounded in before her, and stopped in front of the fire,\nbegging and praying to be allowed to stay.\n\nAll that day there was no food in the house, for the veils had not\nbeen sold, and they had no money to buy anything with. So they all\nsat silent at their work, inwardly cursing the head which was the\ncause of their misfortunes.\n\nWhen evening came, and there was no sign of supper, the head spoke,\nfor the first time that day:\n\n'Good mother, does no one ever eat here? During all the hours I have\nspent in your house not a creature has touched anything.'\n\n'No,' answered the old woman, 'we are not eating anything.'\n\n'And why not, good mother?'\n\n'Because we have no money to buy any food.'\n\n'Is it your custom never to eat?'\n\n'No, for every morning I go into the city to sell my veils, and with\nthe few shillings I get for them I buy all we want. To-day I did not\ncross the bridge, so of course I had nothing for food.'\n\n'Then _I_ am the cause of your having gone hungry all day?' asked the\nhead.\n\n'Yes, you are,' answered the old woman.\n\n'Well, then, I will give you money and plenty of it, if you will only\ndo as I tell you. In an hour, as the clock strikes twelve, you must be\non the bridge at the place where you met me. When you get there call\nout \"Ahmed,\" three times, as loud as you can. Then a negro will\nappear, and you must say to him: \"The head, your master, desires you\nto open the trunk, and to give me the green purse which you will find\nin it.\"'\n\n'Very well, my lord,' said the old woman, 'I will set off at once for\nthe bridge.' And wrapping her veil round her she went out.\n\nMidnight was striking as she reached the spot where she had met the\nhead so many hours before.\n\n'Ahmed! Ahmed! Ahmed!' cried she, and immediately a huge negro, as\ntall as a giant, stood on the bridge before her.\n\n'What do you want?' asked he.\n\n'The head, your master, desires you to open the trunk, and to give me\nthe green purse which you will find in it.'\n\n'I will be back in a moment, good mother,' said he. And three minutes\nlater he placed a purse full of sequins in the old woman's hand.\n\nNo one can imagine the joy of the whole family at the sight of all\nthis wealth. The tiny, tumble-down cottage was rebuilt, the girls had\nnew dresses, and their mother ceased selling veils. It was such a new\nthing to them to have money to spend, that they were not as careful as\nthey might have been, and by-and-by there was not a single coin left\nin the purse. When this happened their hearts sank within them, and\ntheir faces fell.\n\n'Have you spent your fortune?' asked the head from its corner, when it\nsaw how sad they looked. 'Well, then, go at midnight, good mother, to\nthe bridge, and call out \"Mahomet!\" three times, as loud as you can. A\nnegro will appear in answer, and you must tell him to open the trunk,\nand to give you the red purse which he will find there.'\n\nThe old woman did not need twice telling, but set off at once for the\nbridge.\n\n'Mahomet! Mahomet! Mahomet!' cried she, with all her might; and in an\ninstant a negro, still larger than the last, stood before her.\n\n'What do you want?' asked he.\n\n'The head, your master, bids you open the trunk, and to give me the\nred purse which you will find in it.'\n\n'Very well, good mother, I will do so,' answered the negro, and, the\nmoment after he had vanished, he reappeared with the purse in his\nhand.\n\nThis time the money seemed so endless that the old woman built herself\na new house, and filled it with the most beautiful things that were to\nbe found in the shops. Her daughters were always wrapped in veils that\nlooked as if they were woven out of sunbeams, and their dresses shone\nwith precious stones. The neighbours wondered where all this sudden\nwealth had sprung from, but nobody knew about the head.\n\n'Good mother,' said the head, one day, 'this morning you are to go to\nthe city and ask the sultan to give me his daughter for my bride.'\n\n'Do what?' asked the old woman in amazement. 'How can I tell the\nsultan that a head without a body wishes to become his son-in-law?\nThey will think that I am mad, and I shall be hooted from the palace\nand stoned by the children.'\n\n'Do as I bid you,' replied the head; 'it is my will.'\n\nThe old woman was afraid to say anything more, and, putting on her\nrichest clothes, started for the palace. The sultan granted her an\naudience at once, and, in a trembling voice, she made her request.\n\n'Are you mad, old woman?' said the sultan, staring at her.\n\n'The wooer is powerful, O Sultan, and nothing is impossible to him.'\n\n'Is that true?'\n\n'It is, O Sultan; I swear it,' answered she.\n\n'Then let him show his power by doing three things, and I will give\nhim my daughter.'\n\n'Command, O gracious prince,' said she.\n\n'Do you see that hill in front of the palace?' asked the sultan.\n\n'I see it,' answered she.\n\n'Well, in forty days the man who has sent you must make that hill\nvanish, and plant a beautiful garden in its place. That is the first\nthing. Now go, and tell him what I say.'\n\nSo the old woman returned and told the head the sultan's first\ncondition.\n\n'It is well,' he replied; and said no more about it.\n\nFor thirty-nine days the head remained in its favourite corner. The\nold woman thought that the task set before him was beyond his powers,\nand that no more would be heard about the sultan's daughter. But on\nthe thirty-ninth evening after her visit to the palace, the head\nsuddenly spoke.\n\n'Good mother,' he said, 'you must go to-night to the bridge, and when\nyou are there cry \"Ali! Ali! Ali!\" as loud as you can. A negro will\nappear before you, and you will tell him that he is to level the hill,\nand to make, in its place, the most beautiful garden that ever was\nseen.'\n\n'I will go at once,' answered she.\n\nIt did not take her long to reach the bridge which led to the city,\nand she took up her position on the spot where she had first seen the\nhead, and called loudly 'Ali! Ali! Ali.' In an instant a negro\nappeared before her, of such a huge size that the old woman was half\nfrightened; but his voice was mild and gentle as he said: 'What is it\nthat you want?'\n\n'Your master bids you level the hill that stands in front of the\nsultan's palace and in its place to make the most beautiful garden in\nthe world.'\n\n'Tell my master he shall be obeyed,' replied Ali; 'it shall be done\nthis moment.' And the old woman went home and gave Ali's message to\nthe head.\n\nMeanwhile the sultan was in his palace waiting till the fortieth day\nshould dawn, and wondering that not one spadeful of earth should have\nbeen dug out of the hill.\n\n'If that old woman has been playing me a trick,' thought he, 'I will\nhang her! And I will put up a gallows to-morrow on the hill itself.'\n\nBut when to-morrow came there was no hill, and when the sultan opened\nhis eyes he could not imagine why the room was so much lighter than\nusual, and what was the reason of the sweet smell of flowers that\nfilled the air.\n\n'Can there be a fire?' he said to himself; 'the sun never came in at\nthis window before. I must get up and see.' So he rose and looked out,\nand underneath him flowers from every part of the world were\nblooming, and creepers of every colour hung in chains from tree to\ntree.\n\nThen he remembered. 'Certainly that old woman's son is a clever\nmagician!' cried he; 'I never met anyone as clever as that. What shall\nI give him to do next? Let me think. Ah! I know.' And he sent for the\nold woman, who by the orders of the head, was waiting below.\n\n'Your son has carried out my wishes very nicely,' he said. 'The garden\nis larger and better than that of any other king. But when I walk\nacross it I shall need some place to rest on the other side. In forty\ndays he must build me a palace, in which every room shall be filled\nwith different furniture from a different country, and each more\nmagnificent than any room that ever was seen.' And having said this he\nturned round and went away.\n\n'Oh! he will never be able to do that,' thought she; 'it is much more\ndifficult than the hill.' And she walked home slowly, with her head\nbent.\n\n'Well, what am I to do next?' asked the head cheerfully. And the old\nwoman told her story.\n\n'Dear me! is that all? why it is child's play,' answered the head; and\ntroubled no more about the palace for thirty-nine days. Then he told\nthe old woman to go to the bridge and call for Hassan.\n\n'What do you want, old woman?' asked Hassan, when he appeared, for he\nwas not as polite as the others had been.\n\n'Your master commands you to build the most magnificent palace that\never was seen,' replied she; 'and you are to place it on the borders\nof the new garden.'\n\n'He shall be obeyed,' answered Hassan. And when the sultan woke he\nsaw, in the distance, a palace built of soft blue marble, resting on\nslender pillars of pure gold.\n\n'That old woman's son is certainly all-powerful,' cried he; 'what\nshall I bid him do now?' And after thinking some time he sent for\nthe old woman, who was expecting the summons.\n\n [Illustration: THE PRINCESS SEES THE MAGIC HEAD]\n\n'The garden is wonderful, and the palace the finest in the world,'\nsaid he, 'so fine, that my servants would cut but a sorry figure in\nit. Let your son fill it with forty slaves whose beauty shall be\nunequalled, all exactly like each other, and of the same height.'\n\nThis time the king thought he had invented something totally\nimpossible, and was quite pleased with himself for his cleverness.\n\nThirty-nine days passed, and at midnight on the night of the last the\nold woman was standing on the bridge.\n\n'Bekir! Bekir! Bekir!' cried she. And a negro appeared, and inquired\nwhat she wanted.\n\n'The head, your master, bids you find forty slaves of unequalled\nbeauty, and of the same height, and place them in the sultan's palace\non the other side of the garden.'\n\nAnd when, on the morning of the fortieth day, the sultan went to the\nblue palace, and was received by the forty slaves, he nearly lost his\nwits from surprise.\n\n'I will assuredly give my daughter to the old woman's son,' thought\nhe. 'If I were to search all the world through I could never find a\nmore powerful son-in-law.'\n\nAnd when the old woman entered his presence he informed her that he\nwas ready to fulfil his promise, and she was to bid her son appear at\nthe palace without delay.\n\nThis command did not at all please the old woman, though, of course,\nshe made no objections to the sultan.\n\n'All has gone well so far,' she grumbled, when she told her story to\nthe head, 'but what do you suppose the sultan will say, when he sees\nhis daughter's husband?'\n\n'Never mind what he says! Put me on a silver dish and carry me to the\npalace.'\n\nSo it was done, though the old woman's heart beat as she laid down the\ndish with the head upon it.\n\nAt the sight before him the king flew into a violent rage.\n\n'I will never marry my daughter to such a monster,' he cried. But the\nprincess placed her hand gently on his arm.\n\n'You have given your word, my father, and you cannot break it,' said\nshe.\n\n'But, my child, it is impossible for you to marry such a being,'\nexclaimed the sultan.\n\n'Yes, I will marry him. He has a beautiful head, and I love him\nalready.'\n\nSo the marriage was celebrated, and great feasts were held in the\npalace, though the people wept tears to think of the sad fate of their\nbeloved princess. But when the merry-making was done, and the young\ncouple were alone, the head suddenly disappeared, or, rather, a body\nwas added to it, and one of the handsomest young men that ever was\nseen stood before the princess.\n\n'A wicked fairy enchanted me at my birth,' he said, 'and for the rest\nof the world I must always be a head only. But for you, and you only,\nI am a man like other men.'\n\n'And that is all I care about,' said the princess.\n\n[_Traditions populaires de toutes les nations (Asie Mineure)._]\n\n\n\n\n_THE SISTER OF THE SUN_\n\n\nA long time ago there lived a young prince whose favourite playfellow\nwas the son of the gardener who lived in the grounds of the palace.\nThe king would have preferred his choosing a friend from the pages who\nwere brought up at court; but the prince would have nothing to say to\nthem, and as he was a spoilt child, and allowed his way in all things,\nand the gardener's boy was quiet and well-behaved, he was suffered to\nbe in the palace, morning, noon, and night.\n\nThe game the children loved the best was a match at archery, for the\nking had given them two bows exactly alike, and they would spend whole\ndays in trying to see which could shoot the highest. This is always\nvery dangerous, and it was a great wonder they did not put their eyes\nout; but somehow or other they managed to escape.\n\nOne morning, when the prince had done his lessons, he ran out to call\nhis friend, and they both hurried off to the lawn which was their\nusual playground. They took their bows out of the little hut where\ntheir toys were kept, and began to see which could shoot the highest.\nAt last they happened to let fly their arrows both together, and when\nthey fell to earth again the tail feather of a golden hen was found\nsticking in one. Now the question began to arise whose was the lucky\narrow, for they were both alike, and look as closely as you would you\ncould see no difference between them. The prince declared that the\narrow was his, and the gardener's boy was quite sure it was\n_his_--and on this occasion he was perfectly right; but, as they could\nnot decide the matter, they went straight to the king.\n\nWhen the king had heard the story, he decided that the feather\nbelonged to his son; but the other boy would not listen to this and\nclaimed the feather for himself. At length the king's patience gave\nway, and he said angrily:\n\n'Very well; if you are so sure that the feather is yours, yours it\nshall be; only you will have to seek till you find a golden hen with a\nfeather missing from her tail. And if you fail to find her your head\nwill be the forfeit.'\n\nThe boy had need of all his courage to listen silently to the king's\nwords. He had no idea where the golden hen might be, or even, if he\ndiscovered that, how he was to get to her. But there was nothing for\nit but to do the king's bidding, and he felt that the sooner he left\nthe palace the better. So he went home and put some food into a bag,\nand then set forth, hoping that some accident might show him which\npath to take.\n\nAfter walking for several hours he met a fox, who seemed inclined to\nbe friendly, and the boy was so glad to have anyone to talk to that he\nsat down and entered into conversation.\n\n'Where are you going?' asked the fox.\n\n'I have got to find a golden hen who has lost a feather out of her\ntail,' answered the boy; 'but I don't know where she lives or how I\nshall catch her!'\n\n'Oh, I can show you the way!' said the fox, who was really very\ngood-natured. 'Far towards the east, in that direction, lives a\nbeautiful maiden who is called \"The Sister of the Sun.\" She has three\ngolden hens in her house. Perhaps the feather belongs to one of them.'\n\nThe boy was delighted at this news, and they walked on all day\ntogether, the fox in front, and the boy behind. When evening came they\nlay down to sleep, and put the knapsack under their heads for a\npillow.\n\nSuddenly, about midnight, the fox gave a low whine, and drew nearer\nto his bedfellow. 'Cousin,' he whispered very low, 'there is someone\ncoming who will take the knapsack away from me. Look over there!' And\nthe boy, peeping through the bushes, saw a man.\n\n'Oh, I don't think he will rob us!' said the boy; and when the man\ndrew near, he told them his story, which so much interested the\nstranger that he asked leave to travel with them, as he might be of\nsome use. So when the sun rose they set out again, the fox in front as\nbefore, the man and boy following.\n\nAfter some hours they reached the castle of the Sister of the Sun, who\nkept the golden hens among her treasures. They halted before the gate\nand took counsel as to which of them should go in and see the lady\nherself.\n\n'I think it would be best for me to enter and steal the hens,' said\nthe fox; but this did not please the boy at all.\n\n'No, it is my business, so it is right that I should go,' answered he.\n\n'You will find it a very difficult matter to get hold of the hens,'\nreplied the fox.\n\n'Oh, nothing is likely to happen to me,' returned the boy.\n\n'Well, go then,' said the fox, 'but be careful not to make any\nmistake. Steal only the hen which has the feather missing from her\ntail, and leave the others alone.'\n\nThe man listened, but did not interfere, and the boy entered the court\nof the palace.\n\nHe soon spied the three hens strutting proudly about, though they were\nreally anxiously wondering if there were not some grains lying on the\nground that they might be glad to eat. And as the last one passed by\nhim, he saw she had one feather missing from her tail.\n\nAt this sight the youth darted forward and seized the hen by the neck\nso that she could not struggle. Then, tucking her comfortably under\nhis arm, he made straight for the gate. Unluckily, just as he was\nabout to go through it he looked back and caught a glimpse of\nwonderful splendours from an open door of the palace. 'After all,\nthere is no hurry,' he said to himself; 'I may as well see something\nnow I _am_ here,' and turned back, forgetting all about the hen, which\nescaped from under his arm, and ran to join her sisters.\n\nHe was so much fascinated by the sight of all the beautiful things\nwhich peeped through the door that he scarcely noticed that he had\nlost the prize he had won; and he did not remember there was such a\nthing as a hen in the world when he beheld the Sister of the Sun\nsleeping on a bed before him.\n\nFor some time he stood staring; then he came to himself with a start,\nand feeling that he had no business there, softly stole away, and was\nfortunate enough to recapture the hen, which he took with him to the\ngate. On the threshold he stopped again. 'Why should I not look at the\nSister of the Sun?' he thought to himself; 'she is asleep, and will\nnever know.' And he turned back for the second time and entered the\nchamber, while the hen wriggled herself free as before. When he had\ngazed his fill he went out into the courtyard and picked up his hen\nwho was seeking for corn.\n\nAs he drew near the gate he paused. 'Why did I not give her a kiss?'\nhe said to himself; 'I shall never kiss any woman so beautiful.' And\nhe wrung his hands with regret, so that the hen fell to the ground and\nran away.\n\n'But I can do it still!' he cried with delight, and he rushed back to\nthe chamber and kissed the sleeping maiden on the forehead. But, alas!\nwhen he came out again he found that the hen had grown so shy that she\nwould not let him come near her. And, worse than that, her sisters\nbegan to cluck so loud that the Sister of the Sun was awakened by the\nnoise. She jumped up in haste from her bed, and going to the door she\nsaid to the boy:\n\n'You shall never, never, have my hen till you bring me back my\nsister who was carried off by a giant to his castle, which is a long\nway off.'\n\n [Illustration: THE GOLDEN HEN WILL NOT BE CAUGHT]\n\nSlowly and sadly the youth left the palace and told his story to his\nfriends, who were waiting outside the gate, how he had actually held\nthe hen three times in his arms and had lost her.\n\n'I knew that we should not get off so easily,' said the fox, shaking\nhis head; 'but there is no more time to waste. Let us set off at once\nin search of the sister. Luckily, I know the way.'\n\nThey walked on for many days, till at length the fox, who, as usual,\nwas going first, stopped suddenly.\n\n'The giant's castle is not far now,' he said, 'but when we reach it\nyou two must remain outside while I go and fetch the princess.\nDirectly I bring her out you must both catch hold of her tight, and\nget away as fast as you can; while I return to the castle and talk to\nthe giants--for there are many of them--so that they may not notice\nthe escape of the princess.'\n\nA few minutes later they arrived at the castle, and the fox, who had\noften been there before, slipped in without difficulty. There were\nseveral giants, both young and old, in the hall, and they were all\ndancing round the princess. As soon as they saw the fox they cried\nout: 'Come and dance too, old fox; it is a long time since we have\nseen you.'\n\nSo the fox stood up, and did his steps with the best of them; but\nafter a while he stopped and said:\n\n'I know a charming new dance that I should like to show you; but it\ncan only be done by two people. If the princess will honour me for a\nfew minutes, you will soon see how it is done.'\n\n'Ah, that is delightful; we want something new,' answered they, and\nplaced the princess between the outstretched arms of the fox. In one\ninstant he had knocked over the great stand of lights that lighted the\nhall, and in the darkness had borne the princess to the gate. His\ncomrades seized hold of her, as they had been bidden, and the fox was\nback again in the hall before anyone had missed him. He found the\ngiants busy trying to kindle a fire and get some light; but after a\nbit someone cried out:\n\n'Where is the princess?'\n\n'Here, in my arms,' replied the fox. 'Don't be afraid; she is quite\nsafe.' And he waited until he thought that his comrades had gained a\ngood start, and put at least five or six mountains between themselves\nand the giants. Then he sprang through the door, calling, as he went:\n'The maiden is here; take her if you can!'\n\nAt these words the giants understood that their prize had escaped, and\nthey ran after the fox as fast as their great legs could carry them,\nthinking that they should soon come up with the fox, who they supposed\nhad the princess on his back. The fox, on his side, was far too clever\nto choose the same path that his friends had taken, but wound in and\nout of the forest, till at last even _he_ was tired out, and fell fast\nasleep under a tree. Indeed, he was so exhausted with his day's work\nthat he never heard the approach of the giants, and their hands were\nalready stretched out to seize his tail when his eyes opened, and with\na tremendous bound he was once more beyond their reach. All the rest\nof the night the fox ran and ran; but when bright red spread over the\neast, he stopped and waited till the giants were close upon him. Then\nhe turned, and said quietly: 'Look, there is the Sister of the Sun!'\n\nThe giants raised their eyes all at once, and were instantly turned\ninto pillars of stone. The fox then made each pillar a low bow, and\nset off to join his friends.\n\nHe knew a great many short cuts across the hills, so it was not long\nbefore he came up with them, and all four travelled night and day till\nthey reached the castle of the Sister of the Sun. What joy and\nfeasting there was throughout the palace at the sight of the princess\nwhom they had mourned as dead! and they could not make enough of the\nboy who had gone through such dangers in order to rescue her. The\ngolden hen was given to him at once, and, more than that, the Sister\nof the Sun told him that, in a little time, when he was a few years\nolder, she would herself pay a visit to his home and become his wife.\nThe boy could hardly believe his ears when he heard what was in store\nfor him, for this was the most beautiful princess in all the world;\nand however thick the darkness might be, it fled away at once from the\nlight of a star on her forehead.\n\nSo the boy set forth on his journey home, with his friends for\ncompany; his heart full of gladness when he thought of the promise of\nthe princess. But, one by one, his comrades dropped off at the places\nwhere they had first met him, and he was quite alone when he reached\nhis native town and the gates of the palace. With the golden hen under\nhis arm he presented himself before the king, and told his adventures,\nand how he was going to have for a wife a princess so wonderful and\nunlike all other princesses, that the star on her forehead could turn\nnight into day. The king listened silently, and when the boy had done,\nhe said quietly: 'If I find that your story is not true I will have\nyou thrown into a cask of pitch.'\n\n'It is true--every word of it,' answered the boy; and went on to tell\nthat the day and even the hour were fixed when his bride was to come\nand seek him.\n\nBut as the time drew near, and nothing was heard of the princess, the\nyouth became anxious and uneasy, especially when it came to his ears\nthat the great cask was being filled with pitch, and that sticks were\nlaid underneath to make a fire to boil it with. All day long the boy\nstood at the window, looking over the sea by which the princess must\ntravel; but there were no signs of her, not even the tiniest white\nsail. And, as he stood, soldiers came and laid hands on him, and led\nhim up to the cask, where a big fire was blazing, and the horrid black\npitch boiling and bubbling over the sides. He looked and shuddered,\nbut there was no escape; so he shut his eyes to avoid seeing.\n\nThe word was given for him to mount the steps which led to the top of\nthe cask, when, suddenly, some men were seen running with all their\nmight, crying as they went that a large ship with its sails spread was\nmaking straight for the city. No one knew what the ship was, or whence\nit came; but the king declared that he would not have the boy burned\nbefore its arrival, there would always be time enough for that.\n\nAt length the vessel was safe in port, and a whisper went through the\nwatching crowd that on board was the Sister of the Sun, who had come\nto marry the young peasant, as she had promised. In a few moments more\nshe had landed, and desired to be shown the way to the cottage which\nher bridegroom had so often described to her; and whither he had been\nled back by the king's order at the first sign of the ship.\n\n'Don't you know me?' asked the Sister of the Sun, bending over him\nwhere he lay, almost driven out of his senses with terror.\n\n'No, no; I don't know you,' answered the youth, without raising his\neyes.\n\n'Kiss me,' said the Sister of the Sun; and the youth obeyed her, but\nstill without looking up.\n\n'Don't you know me _now_?' asked she.\n\n'No, I don't know you--I don't know you,' he replied, with the manner\nof a man whom fear had driven mad.\n\nAt this the Sister of the Sun grew rather frightened, and beginning at\nthe beginning, she told him the story of his meeting with her, and how\nshe had come a long way in order to marry him. And just as she had\nfinished in walked the king, to see if what the boy had said was\nreally true. But hardly had he opened the door of the cottage when he\nwas almost blinded by the light that filled it; and he remembered what\nhe had been told about the star on the forehead of the princess. He\nstaggered back as if he had been struck, then a curious feeling took\nhold of him, which he had never felt before, and falling on his knees\nbefore the Sister of the Sun he implored her to give up all thought of\nthe peasant boy, and to share his throne. But she only laughed, and\nsaid she had a finer throne of her own, if she wanted to sit on it,\nand that she was free to please herself, and would have no husband but\nthe boy whom she would never have seen except for the king himself.\n\n [Illustration: THE KING FALLS IN LOVE WITH THE SISTER OF THE SUN]\n\n'I shall marry him to-morrow,' ended she; and ordered the\npreparations to be set on foot at once.\n\nWhen the next day came, however, the bridegroom's father informed the\nprincess that, by the law of the land, the marriage must take place in\nthe presence of the king; but he hoped his majesty would not long\ndelay his arrival. An hour or two passed, and everyone was waiting and\nwatching, when at last the sound of trumpets was heard and a grand\nprocession was seen marching up the street. A chair covered with\nvelvet had been made ready for the king, and he took his seat upon it,\nand, looking round upon the assembled company, he said:\n\n'I have no wish to forbid this marriage; but, before I can allow it to\nbe celebrated, the bridegroom must prove himself worthy of such a\nbride by fulfilling three tasks. And the first is that in a single day\nhe must cut down every tree in an entire forest.'\n\nThe youth stood aghast at the king's words. He had never cut down a\ntree in his life, and had not the least idea how to begin. And as for\na whole forest----! But the princess saw what was passing in his mind,\nand whispered to him:\n\n'Don't be afraid. In my ship you will find an axe, which you must\ncarry off to the forest. When you have cut down one tree with it just\nsay: \"So let the forest fall,\" and in an instant all the trees will be\non the ground. But pick up three chips of the tree you have felled,\nand put them in your pocket.'\n\nAnd the young man did exactly as he was bid, and soon returned with\nthe three chips safe in his coat.\n\nThe following morning the princess declared that she had been thinking\nabout the matter, and that, as she was not a subject of the king, she\nsaw no reason why she should be bound by his laws; and she meant to be\nmarried that very day. But the bridegroom's father told her that it\nwas all very well for her to talk like that, but it was quite\ndifferent for his son, who would pay with his head for any\ndisobedience to the king's commands. However, in consideration of what\nthe youth had done the day before, he hoped his majesty's heart might\nbe softened, especially as he had sent a message that they might\nexpect him at once. With this the bridal pair had to be content, and\nbe as patient as they could till the king's arrival.\n\nHe did not keep them long, but they saw by his face that nothing good\nawaited them.\n\n'The marriage cannot take place,' he said shortly, 'till the youth has\njoined to their roots all the trees he cut down yesterday.'\n\nThis sounded much more difficult than what he had done before, and he\nturned in despair to the Sister of the Sun.\n\n'It is all right,' she whispered encouragingly. 'Take this water and\nsprinkle it on one of the fallen trees, and say to it: \"So let all the\ntrees of the forest stand upright,\" and in a moment they will be erect\nagain.'\n\nAnd the young man did what he was told, and left the forest looking\nexactly as it had done before.\n\nNow, surely, thought the princess, there was no longer any need to put\noff the wedding; and she gave orders that all should be ready for the\nfollowing day. But again the old man interfered, and declared that\nwithout the king's permission no marriage could take place. For the\nthird time his majesty was sent for, and for the third time he\nproclaimed that he could not give his consent until the bridegroom\nshould have slain a serpent which dwelt in a broad river that flowed\nat the back of the castle. Everyone knew stories of this terrible\nserpent, though no one had actually seen it; but from time to time a\nchild strayed from home and never came back, and then mothers would\nforbid the other children to go near the river, which had juicy fruits\nand lovely flowers growing along its banks.\n\nSo no wonder the youth trembled and turned pale when he heard what lay\nbefore him.\n\n'You will succeed in this also,' whispered the Sister of the Sun,\npressing his hand, 'for in my ship is a magic sword which will cut\nthrough everything. Go down to the river and unfasten a boat which\nlies moored there, and throw the chips into the water. When the\nserpent rears up its body you will cut off its three heads with one\nblow of your sword. Then take the tip of each tongue and go with it\nto-morrow morning into the king's kitchen. If the king himself should\nenter, just say to him: \"Here are three gifts I offer you in return\nfor the services you demanded of me!\" and throw the tips of the\nserpent's tongues at him, and hasten to the ship as fast as your legs\nwill carry you. But be sure you take great care never to look behind\nyou.'\n\nThe young man did exactly what the princess had told him. The three\nchips which he flung into the river became a boat, and, as he steered\nacross the stream, the serpent put up its head and hissed loudly. The\nyouth had his sword ready, and in another second the three heads were\nbobbing on the water. Guiding his boat till he was beside them, he\nstooped down and snipped off the ends of the tongues, and then rowed\nback to the other bank. Next morning he carried them into the royal\nkitchen, and when the king entered, as was his custom, to see what he\nwas going to have for dinner, the bridegroom flung them in his face,\nsaying: 'Here is a gift for you in return for the services you asked\nof me.' And, opening the kitchen door, he fled to the ship. Unluckily\nhe missed the way, and in his excitement ran backwards and forwards,\nwithout knowing whither he was going. At last, in despair, he looked\nround, and saw to his amazement that both the city and palace had\nvanished completely. Then he turned his eyes in the other direction\nand, far, far away, he caught sight of the ship with her sails spread,\nand a fair wind behind her.\n\nThis dreadful spectacle seemed to take away his senses, and all day\nlong he wandered about, without knowing where he was going, till, in\nthe evening, he noticed some smoke from a little hut of turf near by.\nHe went straight up to it and cried: 'O mother, let me come in for\npity's sake!' The old woman who lived in the hut beckoned to him to\nenter, and hardly was he inside when he cried again: 'O mother, can\nyou tell me anything of the Sister of the Sun?'\n\nBut the old woman only shook her head. 'No, I know nothing of her,'\nsaid she.\n\nThe young man turned to leave the hut, but the old woman stopped him,\nand, giving him a letter, begged him to carry it to her next eldest\nsister, saying: 'If you should get tired on the way, take out the\nletter and rustle the paper.'\n\nThis advice surprised the young man a good deal, as he did not see how\nit could help him; but he did not answer, and went down the road\nwithout knowing where he was going. At length he grew so tired he\ncould walk no more; then he remembered what the old woman had said.\nAfter he had rustled the leaves only once all fatigue disappeared, and\nhe strode gaily over the grass till he came to another little turf\nhut.\n\n'Let me in, I pray you, dear mother,' cried he. And the door opened in\nfront of him. 'Your sister has sent you this letter,' he said, and\nadded quickly: 'O mother! can you tell me anything of the Sister of\nthe Sun?'\n\n'No, I know nothing of her,' answered she. But as he turned hopelessly\naway, she stopped him.\n\n'If you happen to pass my eldest sister's house, will you give her\nthis letter?' said she. 'And if you should get tired on the road, just\ntake it out of your pocket and rustle the paper.'\n\nSo the young man put the letter in his pocket, and walked all day over\nthe hills till he reached a little turf hut, exactly like the other\ntwo.\n\n'Let me in, I pray you, dear mother,' cried he. And as he entered he\nadded: 'Here is a letter from your sister, and--can you tell me\nanything of the Sister of the Sun?'\n\n'Yes, I can,' answered the old woman. 'She lives in the castle on the\nBanka. Her father lost a battle only a few days ago because you had\nstolen his sword from him, and the Sister of the Sun herself is almost\ndead of grief. But, when you see her, stick a pin into the palm of her\nhand, and suck the drops of blood that flow. Then she will grow\ncalmer, and will know you again. Only, beware; for before you reach\nthe castle on the Banka fearful things will happen.'\n\nHe thanked the old woman with tears of gladness for the good news she\nhad given him, and continued his journey. But he had not gone very far\nwhen, at a turn of the road, he met with two brothers, who were\nquarrelling over a piece of cloth.\n\n'My good men, what are you fighting about?' said he. 'That cloth does\nnot look worth much!'\n\n'Oh, it is ragged enough,' answered they, 'but it was left us by our\nfather, and if any man wraps it round him no one can see him; and we\neach want it for our own.'\n\n'Let me put it round me for a moment,' said the youth, 'and then I\nwill tell you whose it ought to be!'\n\nThe brothers were pleased with this idea, and gave him the stuff; but\nthe moment he had thrown it over his shoulder he disappeared as\ncompletely as if he had never been there at all.\n\nMeanwhile the young man walked briskly along, till he came up with two\nother men, who were disputing over a table-cloth.\n\n'What is the matter?' asked he, stopping in front of them.\n\n'If this cloth is spread on a table,' answered they, 'the table is\ninstantly covered with the most delicious food; and we each want to\nhave it.'\n\n'Let me try the table-cloth,' said the youth, 'and I will tell you\nwhose it ought to be.'\n\nThe two men were quite pleased with this idea, and handed him the\ncloth. He then hastily threw the first piece of stuff round his\nshoulders and vanished from sight, leaving the two men grieving over\ntheir own folly.\n\nThe young man had not walked far before he saw two more men standing\nby the road-side, both grasping the same stout staff, and sometimes\none seemed on the point of getting it, and sometimes the other.\n\n'What are you quarrelling about? You could cut a dozen sticks from the\nwood each just as good as that!' said the young man. And as he spoke\nthe fighters both stopped and looked at him.\n\n'Ah! you may think so,' said one, 'but a blow from one end of this\nstick will kill a man, while a touch from the other end will bring him\nback to life. You won't easily find another stick like that!'\n\n'No; that is true,' answered the young man. 'Let me just look at it,\nand I will tell you whose it ought to be.'\n\nThe men were pleased with the idea, and handed him the staff.\n\n'It is very curious, certainly,' said he; 'but which end is it that\nrestores people to life? After all, anyone can be killed by a blow\nfrom a stick if it is only hard enough!' But when he was shown the end\nhe threw the stuff over his shoulders and vanished.\n\nAt last he saw another set of men, who were struggling for the\npossession of a pair of shoes.\n\n'Why can't you leave that pair of old shoes alone?' said he. 'Why, you\ncould not walk a yard in them!'\n\n'Yes, they are old enough,' answered they; 'but whoever puts them on\nand wishes himself at a particular place, gets there without going.'\n\n'That sounds very clever,' said the youth. 'Let me try them, and then\nI shall be able to tell you whose they ought to be.'\n\nThe idea pleased the men, and they handed him the shoes; but the\nmoment they were on his feet he cried:\n\n'I wish to be in the castle on the Banka!' And before he knew it, he\nwas there, and found the Sister of the Sun dying of grief. He knelt\ndown by her side, and pulling out a pin he stuck it into the palm of\nher hand, so that a drop of blood gushed out. This he sucked, as he\nhad been told to do by the old woman, and immediately the princess\ncame to herself, and flung her arms round his neck. Then she told him\nall her story, and what had happened since the ship had sailed away\nwithout him. 'But the worst misfortune of all,' she added, 'was a\nbattle which my father lost because you had vanished with his magic\nsword; and out of his whole army hardly one man was left.'\n\n'Show me the battle-field,' said he. And she took him to a wild heath,\nwhere the dead were lying as they fell, waiting for burial. One by one\nhe touched them with the end of his staff, till at length they all\nstood before him. Throughout the kingdom there was nothing but joy;\nand _this_ time the wedding was _really_ celebrated. And the bridal\npair lived happily in the castle on the Banka till they died.\n\n[_Lappl\u00e4ndische M\u00e4hrchen._]\n\n\n\n\n_THE PRINCE AND THE THREE FATES_\n\n\nOnce upon a time a little boy was born to a king who ruled over a\ngreat country through which ran a wide river. The king was nearly\nbeside himself with joy, for he had always longed for a son to inherit\nhis crown, and he sent messages to beg all the most powerful fairies\nto come and see this wonderful baby. In an hour or two, so many were\ngathered round the cradle, that the child seemed in danger of being\nsmothered; but the king, who was watching the fairies eagerly, was\ndisturbed to see them looking grave. 'Is there anything the matter?'\nhe asked anxiously.\n\nThe fairies looked at him, and all shook their heads at once.\n\n'He is a beautiful boy, and it is a great pity; but what _is_ to\nhappen _will_ happen,' said they. 'It is written in the books of fate\nthat he must die, either by a crocodile, or a serpent, or by a dog. If\nwe could save him we would; but that is beyond our power.'\n\nAnd so saying they vanished.\n\nFor a time the king stood where he was, horror-stricken at what he had\nheard; but, being of a hopeful nature, he began at once to invent\nplans to save the prince from the dreadful doom that awaited him. He\ninstantly sent for his master builder, and bade him construct a strong\ncastle on the top of a mountain, which should be fitted with the most\nprecious things from the king's own palace, and every kind of toy a\nchild could wish to play with. And, besides, he gave the strictest\norders that a guard should walk round the castle night and day.\n\nFor four or five years the baby lived in the castle alone with his\nnurses, taking his airings on the broad terraces, which were\nsurrounded by walls, with a moat beneath them, and only a drawbridge\nto connect them with the outer world.\n\nOne day, when the prince was old enough to run quite fast by himself,\nhe looked from the terrace across the moat, and saw a little soft\nfluffy ball of a dog jumping and playing on the other side. Now, of\ncourse, all dogs had been kept from him for fear that the fairies'\nprophecy should come true, and he had never even beheld one before. So\nhe turned to the page who was walking behind him, and said:\n\n'What is that funny little thing which is running so fast over there?'\n\n'That is a dog, prince,' answered the page.\n\n'Well, bring me one like it, and we will see which can run the\nfaster.' And he watched the dog till it had disappeared round the\ncorner.\n\nThe page was much puzzled to know what to do. He had strict orders to\nrefuse the prince nothing; yet he remembered the prophecy, and felt\nthat this was a serious matter. At last he thought he had better tell\nthe king the whole story, and let him decide the question.\n\n'Oh, get him a dog if he wants one,' said the king, 'he will only cry\nhis heart out if he does not have it.' So a puppy was found, exactly\nlike the other; they might have been twins, and perhaps they were.\n\nYears went by, and the boy and the dog played together till the boy\ngrew tall and strong. The time came at last when he sent a message to\nhis father, saying:\n\n'Why do you keep me shut up here, doing nothing? I know all about the\nprophecy that was made at my birth, but I would far rather be killed\nat once than live an idle, useless life here. So give me arms, and let\nme go, I pray you; me and my dog too.'\n\nAnd again the king listened to his wishes, and he and his dog were\ncarried in a ship to the other side of the river, which was so broad\nhere it might almost have been the sea. A black horse was waiting for\nhim, tied to a tree, and he mounted and rode away wherever his fancy\ntook him, the dog always at his heels. Never was any prince so happy\nas he, and he rode and rode till at length he came to a king's palace.\n\nThe king who lived in it did not care about looking after his country,\nand seeing that his people lived cheerful and contented lives. He\nspent his whole time in making riddles, and inventing plans which he\nhad much better have let alone. At the period when the young prince\nreached the kingdom he had just completed a wonderful house for his\nonly child, a daughter. It had seventy windows, each seventy feet from\nthe ground, and he had sent the royal herald round the borders of the\nneighbouring kingdoms to proclaim that whoever could climb up the\nwalls to the window of the princess should win her for his wife.\n\nThe fame of the princess's beauty had spread far and wide, and there\nwas no lack of princes who wished to try their fortune. Very funny the\npalace must have looked each morning, with the dabs of different\ncolour on the white marble as the princes were climbing up the walls.\nBut though some managed to get further than others, nobody was\nanywhere near the top.\n\nThey had already been spending several days in this manner when the\nyoung prince arrived, and as he was pleasant to look upon, and civil\nto talk to, they welcomed him to the house which had been given to\nthem, and saw that his bath was properly perfumed after his long\njourney. 'Where do you come from?' they said at last. 'And whose son\nare you?'\n\nBut the young prince had reasons for keeping his own secret, and he\nanswered:\n\n'My father was master of the horse to the king of my country, and\nafter my mother died he married another wife. At first all went well,\nbut as soon as she had babies of her own she hated me, and I fled,\nlest she should do me harm.'\n\nThe hearts of the other young men were touched as soon as they heard\nthis story, and they did everything they could think of to make him\nforget his past sorrows.\n\n'What are you doing here?' said the youth, one day.\n\n'We spend our whole time climbing up the walls of the palace, trying\nto reach the windows of the princess,' answered the young men; 'but,\nas yet, no one has reached within ten feet of them.'\n\n'Oh, let me try too,' cried the prince; 'but to-morrow I will wait and\nsee what you do before I begin.'\n\nSo the next day he stood where he could watch the young men go up, and\nhe noted the places on the wall that seemed most difficult, and made\nup his mind that when his turn came he would go up some other way.\n\nDay after day he was to be seen watching the wooers, till, one\nmorning, he felt that he knew the plan of the walls by heart, and took\nhis place by the side of the others. Thanks to what he had learned\nfrom the failure of the rest, he managed to grasp one little rough\nprojection after another, till at last, to the envy of his friends, he\nstood on the sill of the princess's window. Looking up from below,\nthey saw a white hand stretched forth to draw him in.\n\nThen one of the young men ran straight to the king's palace, and said:\n'The wall has been climbed, and the prize is won!'\n\n'By whom?' cried the king, starting up from his throne; 'which of the\nprinces may I claim as my son-in-law?'\n\n'The youth who succeeded in climbing to the princess's window is not a\nprince at all,' answered the young man. 'He is the son of the master\nof the horse to the great king who dwells across the river, and he\nfled from his own country to escape from the hatred of his\nstepmother.'\n\nAt this news the king was very angry, for it had never entered his\nhead that anyone _but_ a prince would seek to woo his daughter.\n\n'Let him go back to the land whence he came,' he shouted in wrath;\n'does he expect me to give my daughter to an exile?' And he began to\nsmash the drinking vessels in his fury; indeed, he quite frightened\nthe young man, who ran hastily home to his friends, and told the youth\nwhat the king had said.\n\nNow the princess, who was leaning from her window, heard his words and\nbade the messenger go back to the king her father and tell him that\nshe had sworn a vow never to eat or drink again if the youth was taken\nfrom her. The king was more angry than ever when he received this\nmessage, and ordered his guards to go at once to the palace and put\nthe successful wooer to death; but the princess threw herself between\nhim and his murderers.\n\n'Lay a finger on him, and I shall be dead before sunset,' said she;\nand as they saw that she meant it, they left the palace, and carried\nthe tale to her father.\n\nBy this time the king's anger was dying away, and he began to consider\nwhat his people would think of him if he broke the promise he had\npublicly given. So he ordered the princess to be brought before him,\nand the young man also, and when they entered the throne room he was\nso pleased with the noble air of the victor that his wrath quite\nmelted away, and he ran to him and embraced him.\n\n'Tell me who you are?' he asked, when he had recovered himself a\nlittle, 'for I will never believe that you have not royal blood in\nyour veins.'\n\nBut the prince still had his reasons for being silent, and only told\nthe same story. However, the king had taken such a fancy to the youth\nthat he said no more, and the marriage took place the following day,\nand great herds of cattle and a large estate were given to the young\ncouple.\n\n * * * * *\n\nAfter a little while the prince said to his wife: 'My life is in the\nhands of three creatures--a crocodile, a serpent, and a dog.'\n\n'Ah, how rash you are!' cried the princess, throwing her arms round\nhis neck. 'If you know that, how can you have that horrid beast about\nyou? I will give orders to have him killed at once.'\n\nBut the prince would not listen to her.\n\n'Kill my dear little dog, who has been my playfellow since he was a\npuppy?' exclaimed he. 'Oh, never would I allow that.' And all that the\nprincess could get from him was that he would always wear a sword, and\nhave somebody with him when he left the palace.\n\nWhen the prince and princess had been married a few months, the prince\nheard that his stepmother was dead, and his father was old and ill,\nand longing to have his eldest son by his side again. The young man\ncould not remain deaf to such a message, and he took a tender farewell\nof his wife, and set out on his journey home. It was a long way, and\nhe was forced to rest often on the road, and so it happened that, one\nnight, when he was sleeping in a city on the banks of the great river,\na huge crocodile came silently up and made its way along a passage to\nthe prince's room. Fortunately one of his guards woke up as it was\ntrying to steal past them, and shut the crocodile up in a large hall,\nwhere a giant watched over it, never leaving the spot except during\nthe night, when the crocodile slept. And this went on for more than a\nmonth.\n\n [Illustration: THE PRINCESS AND THE SNAKE]\n\nNow, when the prince found that he was not likely to leave his\nfather's kingdom again, he sent for his wife, and bade the messenger\ntell her that he would await her coming in the town on the banks of\nthe great river. This was the reason why he delayed his journey so\nlong, and narrowly escaped being eaten by the crocodile. During the\nweeks that followed the prince amused himself as best he could, though\nhe counted the minutes to the arrival of the princess, and when she\ndid come, he at once prepared to start for the court. That very night,\nhowever, while he was asleep, the princess noticed something strange\nin one of the corners of the room. It was a dark patch, and seemed, as\nshe looked, to grow longer and longer, and to be moving slowly towards\nthe cushions on which the prince was lying. She shrank in terror, but,\nslight as was the noise, the thing heard it, and raised its head to\nlisten. Then she saw it was the long flat head of a serpent, and the\nrecollection of the prophecy rushed into her mind. Without waking her\nhusband, she glided out of bed, and taking up a heavy bowl of milk\nwhich stood on a table, laid it on the floor in the path of the\nserpent--for she knew that no serpent in the world can resist milk.\nShe held her breath as the snake drew near, and watched it throw up\nits head again as if it was smelling something nice, while its forky\ntongue darted out greedily. At length its eyes fell upon the milk, and\nin an instant it was lapping it so fast that it was a wonder the\ncreature did not choke, for it never took its head from the bowl as\nlong as a drop was left in it. After that it dropped on the ground and\nslept heavily. This was what the princess had been waiting for, and,\ncatching up her husband's sword, she severed the snake's head from its\nbody.\n\nThe morning after this adventure the prince and princess set out for\nthe king's palace, but found, when they reached it, that he was\nalready dead. They gave him a magnificent burial, and then the prince\nhad to examine the new laws which had been made in his absence, and do\na great deal of business besides, till he grew quite ill from fatigue,\nand was obliged to go away to one of his palaces on the banks of the\nriver, in order to rest. Here he soon got better, and began to hunt,\nand to shoot wild duck with his bow; and wherever he went, his dog,\nnow grown very old, went with him.\n\nOne morning the prince and his dog were out as usual, and in chasing\ntheir game they drew near the bank of the river. The prince was\nrunning at full speed after his dog when he almost fell over something\nthat looked like a log of wood, which was lying in his path. To his\nsurprise a voice spoke to him, and he saw that the thing which he had\ntaken for a branch was really a crocodile.\n\n'You cannot escape from me,' it was saying, when he had gathered his\nsenses again. 'I am your fate, and wherever you go, and whatever you\ndo, you will always find me before you. There is only one means of\nshaking off my power. If you can dig a pit in the dry sand which will\nremain full of water, my spell will be broken. If not death will come\nto you speedily. I give you this one chance. Now go.'\n\nThe young man walked sadly away, and when he reached the palace he\nshut himself into his room, and for the rest of the day refused to see\nanyone, not even his wife. At sunset, however, as no sound could be\nheard through the door, the princess grew quite frightened, and made\nsuch a noise that the prince was forced to draw back the bolt and let\nher come in. 'How pale you look,' she cried, 'has anything hurt you?\nTell me, I pray you, what is the matter, for perhaps I can help!'\n\nSo the prince told her the whole story, and of the impossible task\ngiven him by the crocodile.\n\n'How can a sand hole remain full of water?' asked he. 'Of course it\nwill all run through. The crocodile called it a \"chance\"; but he might\nas well have dragged me into the river at once. He said truly that I\ncannot escape him.'\n\n'Oh, if _that_ is all,' cried the princess, 'I can set you free\nmyself, for my fairy godmother taught me to know the use of plants and\nin the desert not far from here there grows a little four-leaved herb\nwhich will keep the water in the pit for a whole year. I will go in\nsearch of it at dawn, and you can begin to dig the hole as soon as you\nlike.'\n\nTo comfort her husband, the princess had spoken lightly and gaily; but\nshe knew very well she had no light task before her. Still, she was\nfull of courage and energy, and determined that, one way or another,\nher husband should be saved.\n\nIt was still starlight when she left the palace on a snow-white\ndonkey, and rode away from the river straight to the west. For some\ntime she could see nothing before her but a flat waste of sand, which\nbecame hotter and hotter as the sun rose higher and higher. Then a\ndreadful thirst seized her and the donkey, but there was no stream to\nquench it, and if there had been she would hardly have had time to\nstop, for she still had far to go, and must be back before evening, or\nelse the crocodile might declare that the prince had not fulfilled his\nconditions. So she spoke cheering words to her donkey, who brayed in\nreply, and the two pushed steadily on.\n\nOh! how glad they both were when they caught sight of a tall rock in\nthe distance. They forgot that they were thirsty, and that the sun was\nhot; and the ground seemed to fly under their feet, till the donkey\nstopped of its own accord in the cool shadow. But though the donkey\nmight rest the princess could not, for the plant, as she knew, grew on\nthe very top of the rock, and a wide chasm ran round the foot of it.\nLuckily she had brought a rope with her, and making a noose at one\nend, she flung it across with all her might. The first time it slid\nback slowly into the ditch, and she had to draw it up, and throw it\nagain, but at length the noose caught on something, the princess could\nnot see what, and had to trust her whole weight to this little bridge,\nwhich might snap and let her fall deep down among the rocks. And in\nthat case her death was as certain as that of the prince.\n\nBut nothing so dreadful happened. The princess got safely to the\nother side, and then became the worst part of her task. As fast as she\nput her foot on a ledge of the rock the stone broke away from under\nher, and left her in the same place as before. Meanwhile the hours\nwere passing, and it was nearly noon.\n\nThe heart of the poor princess was filled with despair, but she would\nnot give up the struggle. She looked round till she saw a small stone\nabove her which seemed rather stronger than the rest, and by only\npoising her foot lightly on those that lay between, she managed by a\ngreat effort to reach it. In this way, with torn and bleeding hands,\nshe gained the top; but here such a violent wind was blowing that she\nwas almost blinded with dust, and was obliged to throw herself on the\nground, and feel about after the precious herb.\n\nFor a few terrible moments she thought that the rock was bare, and\nthat her journey had been to no purpose. Feel where she would, there\nwas nothing but grit and stones, when, suddenly, her fingers touched\nsomething soft in a crevice. It was a plant, that was clear; but was\nit the right one? See she could not, for the wind was blowing more\nfiercely than ever, so she lay where she was and counted the leaves.\nOne, two, three--yes! yes! there were four! And plucking a leaf she\nheld it safe in her hand while she turned, almost stunned by the wind,\nto go down the rock.\n\nWhen once she was safely over the side all became still in a moment,\nand she slid down the rock so fast that it was only a wonder that she\ndid not land in the chasm. However, by good luck, she stopped quite\nclose to her rope bridge and was soon across it. The donkey brayed\njoyfully at the sight of her, and set off home at his best speed,\nnever seeming to know that the earth under his feet was nearly as hot\nas the sun above him.\n\nOn the bank of the great river he halted, and the princess rushed up\nto where the prince was standing by the pit he had digged in the dry\nsand, with a huge water pot beside it. A little way off the crocodile\nlay blinking in the sun, with his sharp teeth and whity-yellow jaws\nwide open.\n\n [Illustration: THE POOL IN THE SAND]\n\nAt a signal from the princess the prince poured the water in the hole,\nand the moment it reached the brim the princess flung in the\nfour-leaved plant. Would the charm work, or would the water trickle\naway slowly through the sand, and the prince fall a victim to that\nhorrible monster? For half an hour they stood with their eyes rooted\nto the spot, but the hole remained as full as at the beginning, with\nthe little green leaf floating on the top. Then the prince turned with\na shout of triumph, and the crocodile sulkily plunged into the river.\n\nThe prince had escaped for ever the second of his three fates!\n\nHe stood there looking after the crocodile, and rejoicing that he was\nfree, when he was startled by a wild duck which flew past them,\nseeking shelter among the rushes that bordered the edge of the stream.\nIn another instant his dog dashed by in hot pursuit, and knocked\nheavily against his master's legs. The prince staggered, lost his\nbalance and fell backwards into the river, where the mud and the\nrushes caught him and held him fast. He shrieked for help to his wife,\nwho came running; and luckily brought her rope with her. The poor old\ndog was drowned, but the prince was pulled to shore. 'My wife,' he\nsaid, 'has been stronger than my fate.'\n\n[Adapted from _Les Contes Populaires de l'Egypte Ancienne_.]\n\n\n\n\n_THE FOX AND THE LAPP_\n\n\nOnce upon a time a fox lay peeping out of his hole, watching the road\nthat ran by at a little distance, and hoping to see something that\nmight amuse him, for he was feeling very dull and rather cross. For a\nlong while he watched in vain; everything seemed asleep, and not even\na bird stirred overhead. The fox grew crosser than ever, and he was\njust turning away in disgust from his place when he heard the sound of\nfeet coming over the snow. He crouched eagerly down at the edge of the\nroad and said to himself: 'I wonder what would happen if I were to\npretend to be dead! This is a man driving a reindeer sledge, I know\nthe tinkling of the harness. And at any rate I shall have an\nadventure, and that is always something!'\n\nSo he stretched himself out by the side of the road, carefully\nchoosing a spot where the driver could not help seeing him, yet where\nthe reindeer would not tread on him; and all fell out just as he had\nexpected. The sledge-driver pulled up sharply, as his eyes lighted on\nthe beautiful animal lying stiffly beside him, and jumping out he\nthrew the fox into the bottom of the sledge, where the goods he was\ncarrying were bound tightly together by ropes. The fox did not move a\nmuscle though his bones were sore from the fall, and the driver got\nback to his seat again and drove on merrily.\n\nBut before they had gone very far, the fox, who was near the edge,\ncontrived to slip over, and when the Laplander saw him stretched out\non the snow he pulled up his reindeer and put the fox into one of the\nother sledges that was fastened behind, for it was market-day at the\nnearest town, and the man had much to sell.\n\nThey drove on a little further, when some noise in the forest made the\nman turn his head, just in time to see the fox fall with a heavy thump\non to the frozen snow. 'That beast is bewitched!' he said to himself,\nand then he threw the fox into the last sledge of all, which had a\ncargo of fishes. This was exactly what the cunning creature wanted,\nand he wriggled gently to the front and bit the cord which tied the\nsledge to the one before it so that it remained standing in the middle\nof the road.\n\nNow there were so many sledges that the Lapp did not notice for a long\nwhile that one was missing; indeed, he would have entered the town\nwithout knowing if snow had not suddenly begun to fall. Then he got\ndown to secure more firmly the cloths that kept his goods dry, and\ngoing to the end of the long row, discovered that the sledge\ncontaining the fish and the fox was missing. He quickly unharnessed\none of his reindeer and rode back along the way he had come, to find\nthe sledge standing safe in the middle of the road; but as the fox had\nbitten off the cord close to the noose there was no means of moving it\naway.\n\nThe fox meanwhile was enjoying himself mightily. As soon as he had\nloosened the sledge, he had taken his favourite fish from among the\npiles neatly arranged for sale, and had trotted off to the forest with\nit in his mouth. By-and-by he met a bear, who stopped and said: 'Where\ndid you find that fish, Mr. Fox?'\n\n'Oh, not far off,' answered he; 'I just stuck my tail in the stream\nclose by the place where the elves dwell, and the fish hung on to it\nof itself.'\n\n'Dear me,' snarled the bear, who was hungry and not in a good temper,\n'if the fish hung on to your tail, I suppose he will hang on to mine.'\n\n'Yes, certainly, grandfather,' replied the fox, 'if you have patience\nto suffer what I suffered.'\n\n'Of course I can,' replied the bear, 'what nonsense you talk! Show me\nthe way.'\n\nSo the fox led him to the bank of a stream, which, being in a warm\nplace, had only lightly frozen in places, and was at this moment\nglittering in the spring sunshine.\n\n'The elves bathe here,' he said, 'and if you put in your tail the fish\nwill catch hold of it. But it is no use being in a hurry, or you will\nspoil everything.'\n\n [Illustration: THE ELVES AND THE BEAR]\n\nThen he trotted off, but only went out of sight of the bear, who stood\nstill on the bank with his tail deep in the water. Soon the sun set\nand it grew very cold and the ice formed rapidly, and the bear's tail\nwas fixed as tight as if a vice had held it; and when the fox saw that\neverything had happened just as he had planned it, he called out\nloudly:\n\n'Be quick, good people, and come with your bows and spears. A bear has\nbeen fishing in your brook!'\n\nAnd in a moment the whole place was full of little creatures each one\nwith a tiny bow and a spear hardly big enough for a baby; but both\narrows and spears could sting, as the bear knew very well, and in his\nfright he gave such a tug to his tail that it broke short off, and he\nrolled away into the forest as fast as his legs could carry him. At\nthis sight the fox held his sides for laughing, and then scampered\naway in another direction. By-and-by he came to a fir tree, and crept\ninto a hole under the root. After that he did something very strange.\n\nTaking one of his hind feet between his two front paws, he said\nsoftly:\n\n'What would you do, my foot, if someone was to betray me?'\n\n'I would run so quickly that he should not catch you.'\n\n'What would you do, mine ear, if someone was to betray me?'\n\n'I would listen so hard that I should hear all his plans.'\n\n'What would you do, my nose, if someone was to betray me?'\n\n'I would smell so sharply that I should know from afar that he was\ncoming.'\n\n'What would you do, my tail, if someone was to betray me?'\n\n'I would steer you so straight a course that you would soon be beyond\nhis reach. Let us be off; I feel as if danger was near.'\n\nBut the fox was comfortable where he was, and did not hurry himself to\ntake his tail's advice. And before very long he found he was too late,\nfor the bear had come round by another path, and guessing where his\nenemy was began to scratch at the roots of the tree. The fox made\nhimself as small as he could, but a scrap of his tail peeped out, and\nthe bear seized it and held it tight. Then the fox dug his claws into\nthe ground, but he was not strong enough to pull against the bear,\nand slowly he was dragged forth and his body flung over the bear's\nneck. In this manner they set out down the road, the fox's tail being\nalways in the bear's mouth.\n\nAfter they had gone some way, they passed a tree-stump, on which a\nbright coloured woodpecker was tapping.\n\n'Ah! those were better times when I used to paint all the birds such\ngay colours,' sighed the fox.\n\n'What are you saying, old fellow?' asked the bear.\n\n'I? Oh, I was saying nothing,' answered the fox drearily. 'Just carry\nme to your cave and eat me up as quick as you can.'\n\nThe bear was silent, and thought of his supper; and the two continued\ntheir journey till they reached another tree with a woodpecker tapping\non it.\n\n'Ah! those were better times when I used to paint all the birds such\ngay colours,' said the fox again to himself.\n\n'Couldn't you paint me too?' asked the bear suddenly.\n\nBut the fox shook his head; for he was always acting, even if no one\nwas there to see him do it.\n\n'You bear pain so badly,' he replied, in a thoughtful voice, 'and you\nare impatient besides, and could never put up with all that is\nnecessary. Why, you would first have to dig a pit, and then twist\nropes of willow, and drive in posts and fill the hole with pitch, and,\nlast of all, set it on fire. Oh, no; you would never be able to do all\nthat.'\n\n'It does not matter a straw how hard the work is,' answered the bear\neagerly, 'I will do it every bit.' And as he spoke he began tearing up\nthe earth so fast that soon a deep pit was ready, deep enough to hold\nhim.\n\n'That is all right,' said the fox at last, 'I see I was mistaken in\nyou. Now sit here, and I will bind you.' So the bear sat down on the\nedge of the pit, and the fox sprang on his back, which he crossed with\nthe willow ropes, and then set fire to the pitch. It burnt up in an\ninstant, and caught the bands of willow and the bear's rough hair; but\nhe did not stir, for he thought that the fox was rubbing the bright\ncolours into his skin, and that he would soon be as beautiful as a\nwhole meadow of flowers. But when the fire grew hotter still he moved\nuneasily from one foot to the other, saying, imploringly: 'It is\ngetting rather warm, old man.' But all the answer he got was: 'I\nthought you would never be able to suffer pain like those little\nbirds.'\n\nThe bear did not like being told that he was not as brave as a bird,\nso he set his teeth and resolved to endure anything sooner than speak\nagain; but by this time the last willow band had burned through, and\nwith a push the fox sent his victim tumbling into the grass, and ran\noff to hide himself in the forest. After a while he stole cautiously\nand found, as he expected, nothing left but a few charred bones. These\nhe picked up and put in a bag, which he slung over his back.\n\nBy-and-by he met a Lapp driving his team of reindeer along the road,\nand as he drew near, the fox rattled the bones gaily.\n\n'That sounds like silver or gold,' thought the man to himself. And he\nsaid politely to the fox:\n\n'Good-day, friend! What have you got in your bag that makes such a\nstrange sound?'\n\n'All the wealth my father left me,' answered the fox. 'Do you feel\ninclined to bargain?'\n\n'Well, I don't mind,' replied the Lapp, who was a prudent man, and did\nnot wish the fox to think him too eager; 'but show me first what money\nyou have got.'\n\n'Ah, but I can't do that,' answered the fox, 'my bag is sealed up. But\nif you will give me those three reindeer, you shall take it as it is,\nwith all its contents.'\n\nThe Lapp did not quite like it, but the fox spoke with such an air\nthat his doubts melted away. He nodded, and stretched out his hand;\nthe fox put the bag into it, and unharnessed the reindeer he had\nchosen.\n\n'Oh, I forgot!' he exclaimed, turning round, as he was about to drive\nthem in the opposite direction, 'you must be sure not to open the bag\nuntil you have gone at least five miles, right on the other side of\nthose hills out there. If you do, you will find that all the gold and\nsilver has changed into a parcel of charred bones.' Then he whipped up\nhis reindeer, and was soon out of sight.\n\nFor some time the Lapp was satisfied with hearing the bones rattle,\nand thinking to himself what a good bargain he had made, and of all\nthe things he would buy with the money. But, after a bit, this\namusement ceased to content him, and besides, what was the use of\nplanning when you did not know for certain how rich you were? Perhaps\nthere might be a great deal of silver and only a little gold in the\nbag; or a great deal of gold, and only a little silver. Who could\ntell? He would not, of course, take the money out to count it, for\nthat might bring him bad luck. But there could be no harm in just one\npeep! So he slowly broke the seal, and untied the strings, and,\nbehold, a heap of burnt bones lay before him! In a minute he knew he\nhad been tricked, and flinging the bag to the ground in a rage, he ran\nafter the fox as fast as his snow-shoes would carry him.\n\nNow the fox had guessed exactly what would happen, and was on the look\nout. Directly he saw the little speck coming towards him, he wished\nthat the man's snow-shoes might break, and that very instant the\nLapp's shoes snapped in two. The Lapp did not know that this was the\nfox's work, but he had to stop and fetch one of his other reindeer,\nwhich he mounted, and set off again in pursuit of his enemy. The fox\nsoon heard him coming, and this time he wished that the reindeer might\nfall and break its leg. And so it did; and the man felt it was a\nhopeless chase, and that he was no match for the fox.\n\nSo the fox drove on in peace till he reached the cave where all his\nstores were kept, and then he began to wonder whom he could get to\nhelp him kill his reindeer, for though he could steal reindeer he was\ntoo small to kill them. 'After all, it will be quite easy,' thought\nhe, and he bade a squirrel, who was watching him on a tree close by,\ntake a message to all the robber beasts of the forest, and in less\nthan half an hour a great crashing of branches was heard, and bears,\nwolves, snakes, mice, frogs, and other creatures came pressing up to\nthe cave.\n\nWhen they heard why they had been summoned, they declared themselves\nready each one to do his part. The bear took his crossbow from his\nneck and shot the reindeer in the chin; and, from that day to this,\nevery reindeer has a mark in that same spot, which is always known as\nthe bear's arrow. The wolf shot him in the thigh, and the sign of his\narrow still remains; and so with the mouse and the viper and all the\nrest, even the frog; and at the last the reindeer all died. And the\nfox did nothing, but looked on.\n\n'I really must go down to the brook and wash myself,' said he (though\nhe was perfectly clean), and he went under the bank and hid himself\nbehind a stone. From there he set up the most frightful shrieks, so\nthat the animals fled away in all directions. Only the mouse and the\nermine remained where they were, for they thought that they were much\ntoo small to be noticed.\n\nThe fox continued his shrieks till he felt sure that the animals must\nhave got to a safe distance; then he crawled out of his hiding-place\nand went to the bodies of the reindeer, which he now had all to\nhimself. He gathered a bundle of sticks for a fire, and was just\npreparing to cook a steak, when his enemy, the Lapp, came up, panting\nwith haste and excitement.\n\n'What are you doing there?' cried he; 'why did you palm off those\nbones on me? And why, when you had got the reindeer, did you kill\nthem?'\n\n'Dear brother,' answered the fox with a sob, 'do not blame me for this\nmisfortune. It is my comrades who have slain them in spite of my\nprayers.'\n\nThe man made no reply, for the white fur of the ermine, who was\ncrouching with the mouse behind some stones, had just caught his eye.\nHe hastily seized the iron hook which hung over the fire and flung it\nat the little creature; but the ermine was too quick for him, and the\nhook only touched the top of its tail, and that has remained black to\nthis day. As for the mouse, the Lapp threw a half-burnt stick after\nhim, and though it was not hot enough to hurt him, his beautiful white\nskin was smeared all over with it, and all the washing in the world\nwould not make him clean again. And the man would have been wiser if\nhe had let the ermine and the mouse alone, for when he turned round\nagain he found he was alone.\n\nDirectly the fox noticed that his enemy's attention had wandered from\nhimself he watched his chance, and stole softly away till he had\nreached a clump of thick bushes, when he ran as fast as he could, till\nhe reached a river, where a man was mending his boat.\n\n'Oh, I wish, I do wish, I had a boat to mend too!' he cried, sitting\nup on his hind-legs and looking into the man's face.\n\n'Stop your silly chatter!' answered the man crossly, 'or I will give\nyou a bath in the river.'\n\n'Oh, I wish, I do wish, I had a boat to mend,' cried the fox again, as\nif he had not heard. And the man grew angry and seized him by the\ntail, and threw him far out in the stream close to the edge of an\nisland; which was just what the fox wanted. He easily scrambled up,\nand, sitting on the top, he called: 'Hasten, hasten, O fishes, and\ncarry me to the other side!' And the fishes left the stones where they\nhad been sleeping, and the pools where they had been feeding, and\nhurried to see who could get to the island first.\n\n'I have won,' shouted the pike. 'Jump on my back, dear fox, and you\nwill find yourself in a trice on the opposite shore.'\n\n'No, thank you,' answered the fox, 'your back is much too weak for\nme. I should break it.'\n\n'Try mine,' said the eel, who had wriggled to the front.\n\n'No, thank you,' replied the fox again, 'I should slip over your head\nand be drowned.'\n\n'You won't slip on _my_ back,' said the perch, coming forward.\n\n'No; but you are really _too_ rough,' returned the fox.\n\n'Well, you can have no fault to find with _me_,' put in the trout.\n\n'Good gracious! are _you_ here?' exclaimed the fox. 'But I'm afraid to\ntrust myself to you either.'\n\nAt this moment a fine salmon swam slowly up.\n\n'Ah, yes, you are the person I want,' said the fox; 'but come near, so\nthat I may get on your back, without wetting my feet.'\n\nSo the salmon swam close under the island, and when he was touching it\nthe fox seized him in his claws and drew him out of the water, and put\nhim on a spit, while he kindled a fire to cook him by. When everything\nwas ready, and the water in the pot was getting hot, he popped him in,\nand waited till he thought the salmon was nearly boiled. But as he\nstooped down the water gave a sudden fizzle, and splashed into the\nfox's eyes, blinding him. He started backwards with a cry of pain, and\nsat still for some minutes, rocking himself to and fro. When he was a\nlittle better he rose and walked down a road till he met a grouse, who\nstopped and asked what was the matter.\n\n'Have you a pair of eyes anywhere about you?' asked the fox politely.\n\n'No, I am afraid I haven't,' answered the grouse, and passed on.\n\nA little while after the fox heard the buzzing of an early bee, whom a\ngleam of sun had tempted out.\n\n'Do you happen to have an extra pair of eyes anywhere?' asked the\nfox.\n\n'I am sorry to say I have only those I am using,' replied the bee. And\nthe fox went on till he nearly fell over an asp who was gliding across\nthe road.\n\n'I should be _so_ glad if you would tell me where I could get a pair\nof eyes,' said the fox. 'I suppose you don't happen to have any you\ncould lend me?'\n\n'Well, if you only want them for a short time, perhaps I could\nmanage,' answered the asp; 'but I can't do without them for long.'\n\n'Oh, it is only for a very short time that I need them,' said the fox;\n'I have a pair of my own just behind that hill, and when I find them I\nwill bring yours back to you. Perhaps you will keep these till then.'\nSo he took the eyes out of his own head and popped them into the head\nof the asp, and put the asp's eyes in their place. As he was running\noff he cried over his shoulder: 'As long as the world lasts the asps'\neyes will go down in the heads of foxes from generation to\ngeneration.'\n\nAnd so it has been; and if you look at the eyes of an asp you will see\nthat they are all burnt; and though thousands of years have gone by\nsince the fox was going about playing tricks upon everybody he met,\nthe asp still bears the traces of the day when the sly creature cooked\nthe salmon.\n\n[_Lappl\u00e4ndische M\u00e4hrchen._]\n\n\n\n\n_KISA THE CAT_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a queen who had a beautiful cat, the\ncolour of smoke, with china-blue eyes, which she was very fond of. The\ncat was constantly with her, and ran after her wherever she went, and\neven sat up proudly by her side when she drove out in her fine glass\ncoach.\n\n'Oh, pussy,' said the queen one day, 'you are happier than I am! For\nyou have a dear little kitten just like yourself, and I have nobody to\nplay with but you.'\n\n'Don't cry,' answered the cat, laying her paw on her mistress's arm.\n'Crying never does any good. I will see what can be done.'\n\nThe cat was as good as her word. As soon as she returned from her\ndrive she trotted off to the forest to consult a fairy who dwelt\nthere, and very soon after the queen had a little girl, who seemed\nmade out of snow and sunbeams. The queen was delighted, and soon the\nbaby began to take notice of the kitten as she jumped about the room,\nand would not go to sleep at all unless the kitten lay curled up\nbeside her.\n\nTwo or three months went by, and though the baby was still a baby, the\nkitten was fast becoming a cat, and one evening when, as usual, the\nnurse came to look for her, to put her in the baby's cot, she was\nnowhere to be found. What a hunt there was for that kitten, to be\nsure! The servants, each anxious to find her, as the queen was certain\nto reward the lucky man, searched in the most impossible places. Boxes\nwere opened that would hardly have held the kitten's paw; books were\ntaken from bookshelves, lest the kitten should have got behind them,\ndrawers were pulled out, for perhaps the kitten might have got shut\nin. But it was all no use. The kitten had plainly run away, and nobody\ncould tell if it would ever choose to come back.\n\nYears passed away, and one day, when the princess was playing ball in\nthe garden, she happened to throw her ball farther than usual, and it\nfell into a clump of rose-bushes. The princess of course ran after it\nat once, and she was stooping down to feel if it was hidden in the\nlong grass, when she heard a voice calling her: 'Ingibj\u00f6rg!\nIngibj\u00f6rg!' it said, 'have you forgotten me? I am Kisa, your sister!'\n\n'But I never _had_ a sister,' answered Ingibj\u00f6rg, very much puzzled;\nfor she knew nothing of what had taken place so long ago.\n\n'Don't you remember how I always slept in your cot beside you, and how\nyou cried till I came? But girls have no memories at all! Why, I could\nfind my way straight up to that cot this moment, if I was once inside\nthe palace.'\n\n'Why did you go away then?' asked the princess. But before Kisa could\nanswer, Ingibj\u00f6rg's attendants arrived breathless on the scene, and\nwere so horrified at the sight of a strange cat, that Kisa plunged\ninto the bushes and went back to the forest.\n\nThe princess was very much vexed with her ladies-in-waiting for\nfrightening away her old playfellow, and told the queen who came to\nher room every evening to bid her good-night.\n\n'Yes, it is quite true what Kisa said,' answered the queen; 'I should\nhave liked to see her again. Perhaps, some day, she will return, and\nthen you must bring her to me.'\n\nNext morning it was very hot, and the princess declared that she must\ngo and play in the forest, where it was always cool, under the big\nshady trees. As usual, her attendants let her do anything she\npleased, and, sitting down on a mossy bank where a little stream\ntinkled by, soon fell sound asleep. The princess saw with delight that\nthey would pay no heed to her, and wandered on and on, expecting every\nmoment to see some fairies dancing round a ring, or some little brown\nelves peeping at her from behind a tree. But, alas! she met none of\nthese; instead, a horrible giant came out of his cave and ordered her\nto follow him. The princess felt much afraid, as he was so big and\nugly, and began to be sorry that she had not stayed within reach of\nhelp; but as there was no use in disobeying the giant, she walked\nmeekly behind.\n\nThey went a long way, and Ingibj\u00f6rg grew very tired, and at length\nbegan to cry.\n\n'I don't like girls who make horrid noises,' said the giant, turning\nround. 'But if you _want_ to cry, I will give you something to cry\nfor.' And drawing an axe from his belt, he cut off both her feet,\nwhich he picked up and put in his pocket. Then he went away.\n\nPoor Ingibj\u00f6rg lay on the grass in terrible pain, and wondering if she\nshould stay there till she died, as no one would know where to look\nfor her. How long it was since she had set out in the morning she\ncould not tell--it seemed years to her, of course; but the sun was\nstill high in the heavens when she heard the sound of wheels, and\nthen, with a great effort, for her throat was parched with fright and\npain, she gave a shout.\n\n'I am coming!' was the answer; and in another moment a cart made its\nway through the trees, driven by Kisa, who used her tail as a whip to\nurge the horse to go faster. Directly Kisa saw Ingibj\u00f6rg lying there,\nshe jumped quickly down, and lifting the girl carefully in her two\nfront paws, laid her upon some soft hay, and drove back to her own\nlittle hut.\n\nIn the corner of the room was a pile of cushions, and these Kisa\narranged as a bed. Ingibj\u00f6rg, who by this time was nearly fainting\nfrom all she had gone through, drank greedily some milk, and then sank\nback on the cushions while Kisa fetched some dried herbs from a\ncupboard, soaked them in warm water and tied them on the bleeding\nlegs. The pain vanished at once, and Ingibj\u00f6rg looked up and smiled at\nKisa.\n\n'You will go to sleep now,' said the cat, 'and you will not mind if I\nleave you for a little while. I will lock the door, and no one can\nhurt you.' But before she had finished the princess was asleep. Then\nKisa got into the cart, which was standing at the door, and catching\nup the reins, drove straight to the giant's cave.\n\nLeaving her cart behind some trees, Kisa crept gently up to the open\ndoor, and, crouching down, listened to what the giant was telling his\nwife, who was at supper with him.\n\n'The first day that I can spare I shall just go back and kill her,' he\nsaid; 'it would never do for people in the forest to know that a mere\ngirl can defy me!' And he and his wife were so busy calling Ingibj\u00f6rg\nall sorts of names for her bad behaviour, that they never noticed Kisa\nstealing into a dark corner, and upsetting a whole bag of salt into\nthe great pot before the fire.\n\n'Dear me, how thirsty I am!' cried the giant by-and-by.\n\n'So am I,' answered his wife. 'I do wish I had not taken that last\nspoonful of broth; I am sure something was wrong with it.'\n\n'If I don't get some water I shall die,' went on the giant. And\nrushing out of the cave, followed by his wife, he ran down the path\nwhich led to the river.\n\nThen Kisa entered the hut, and lost no time in searching every hole\ntill she came upon some grass, under which Ingibj\u00f6rg's feet were\nhidden, and putting them in her cart, drove back again to her own hut.\n\nIngibj\u00f6rg was thankful to see her, for she had lain, too frightened to\nsleep, trembling at every noise.\n\n'Oh, is it you?' she cried joyfully, as Kisa turned the key. And the\ncat came in, holding up the two neat little feet in their silver\nslippers.\n\n [Illustration: KISA THE CAT CARRIES OFF INGIBJ\u00d6RG'S FEET FROM THE\n GIANT'S CAVE]\n\n'In two minutes they shall be as tight as ever they were!' said Kisa.\nAnd taking some strings of the magic grass which the giant had\ncarelessly heaped on them, she bound the feet on to the legs above.\n\n'Of course you won't be able to walk for some time; you must not\nexpect _that_,' she continued. 'But if you are very good, perhaps, in\nabout a week, I may carry you home again.'\n\nAnd so she did; and when the cat drove the cart up to the palace gate,\nlashing the horse furiously with her tail, and the king and queen saw\ntheir lost daughter sitting beside her, they declared that no reward\ncould be too great for the person who had brought her out of the\ngiant's hands.\n\n'We will talk about that by-and-by,' said the cat, as she made her\nbest bow, and turned her horse's head.\n\nThe princess was very unhappy when Kisa left her without even bidding\nher farewell. She would neither eat nor drink, nor take any notice of\nall the beautiful dresses her parents bought for her.\n\n'She will die, unless we can make her laugh,' one whispered to the\nother. 'Is there anything in the world that we have left untried?'\n\n'Nothing, except marriage,' answered the king. And he invited all the\nhandsomest young men he could think of to the palace, and bade the\nprincess choose a husband from among them.\n\nIt took her some time to decide which she admired the most, but at\nlast she fixed upon a young prince, whose eyes were like the pools in\nthe forest, and his hair of bright gold. The king and the queen were\ngreatly pleased, as the young man was the son of a neighbouring king,\nand they gave orders that a splendid feast should be got ready.\n\nWhen the marriage was over, Kisa suddenly stood before them, and\nIngibj\u00f6rg rushed forward and clasped her in her arms.\n\n'I have come to claim my reward,' said the cat. 'Let me sleep for this\nnight at the foot of your bed.'\n\n'Is that _all_?' asked Ingibj\u00f6rg, much disappointed.\n\n'It is enough,' answered the cat. And when the morning dawned, it was\nno cat that lay upon the bed, but a beautiful princess.\n\n'My mother and I were both enchanted by a spiteful fairy,' said she,\n'and we could not free ourselves till we had done some kindly deed\nthat had never been wrought before. My mother died without ever\nfinding a chance of doing anything new, but I took advantage of the\nevil act of the giant to make you as whole as ever.'\n\nThen they were all more delighted than before, and the princess lived\nin the court until she, too, married, and went away to govern one of\nher own.\n\n[Adapted from _Neuisl\u00e4ndischen Volksm\u00e4rchen_.]\n\n\n\n\n_THE LION AND THE CAT_\n\n\nFar away on the other side of the world there lived, long ago, a lion\nand his younger brother, the wild cat, who were so fond of each other\nthat they shared the same hut. The lion was much the bigger and\nstronger of the two--indeed, he was much bigger and stronger than any\nof the beasts that dwelt in the forest; and, besides, he could jump\nfarther and run faster than all the rest. If strength and swiftness\ncould gain him a dinner he was sure never to be without one, but when\nit came to cunning, both the grizzly bear and the serpent could get\nthe better of him, and he was forced to call in the help of the wild\ncat.\n\nNow the young wild cat had a lovely golden ball, so beautiful that you\ncould hardly look at it except through a piece of smoked glass, and he\nkept it hidden in the thick fur muff that went round his neck. A very\nlarge old animal, since dead, had given it to him when he was hardly\nmore than a baby, and had told him never to part with it, for as long\nas he kept it no harm could ever come near him.\n\nIn general the wild cat did not need to use his ball, for the lion was\nfond of hunting, and could kill all the food that they needed; but now\nand then his life would have been in danger had it not been for the\ngolden ball.\n\n * * * * *\n\nOne day the two brothers started to hunt at daybreak, but as the cat\ncould not run nearly as fast as the lion, he had quite a long start.\nAt least he _thought_ it was a long one, but in a very few bounds and\nsprings the lion reached his side.\n\n'There is a bear sitting on that tree,' he whispered softly. 'He is\nonly waiting for us to pass, to drop down on my back.'\n\n'Ah, you are so big that he does not see I am behind you,' answered\nthe wild cat. And, touching the ball, he just said: 'Bear, die!' And\nthe bear tumbled dead out of the tree, and rolled over just in front\nof them.\n\nFor some time they trotted on without any adventures, till just as\nthey were about to cross a strip of long grass on the edge of the\nforest, the lion's quick ears detected a faint rustling noise.\n\n'That is a snake,' he cried, stopping short, for he was much more\nafraid of snakes than of bears.\n\n'Oh, it is all right,' answered the cat. 'Snake, die!' And the snake\ndied, and the two brothers skinned it. They then folded the skin up\ninto a very small parcel, and the cat tucked it into his mane, for\nsnakes' skins can do all sorts of wonderful things, if you are lucky\nenough to have one of them.\n\nAll this time they had had no dinner, for the snake's flesh was not\nnice, and the lion did not like eating bear--perhaps because he never\nfelt sure that the bear was _really_ dead, and would not jump up alive\nwhen his enemy went near him. Most people are afraid of _some_ thing,\nand bears and serpents were the only creatures that caused the lion's\nheart to tremble. So the two brothers set off again and soon reached\nthe side of a hill where some fine deer were grazing.\n\n'Kill one of those deer for your own dinner,' said the boy-brother,\n'but catch me another alive. I want him.'\n\nThe lion at once sprang towards them with a loud roar, but the deer\nbounded away, and they were all three soon lost to sight. The cat\nwaited for a long while, but finding that the lion did not return,\nwent back to the house where they lived.\n\nIt was quite dark when the lion came home, where his brother was\nsitting curled up in one corner.\n\n'Did you catch the deer for me?' asked the boy-brother, springing up.\n\n'Well, no,' replied the man-brother. 'The fact is, that I did not get\nup to them till we had run half way across the world and left the wind\nfar behind us. Think what a trouble it would have been to drag it\nhere! So--I just ate them both.'\n\nThe cat said nothing, but he did not feel that he loved his big\nbrother. He had thought a great deal about that deer, and had meant to\nget on his back to ride him as a horse, and go to see all the\nwonderful places the lion talked to him about when he was in a good\ntemper. The more he thought of it the more sulky he grew, and in the\nmorning, when the lion said that it was time for them to start to\nhunt, the cat told him that he might kill the bear and snake by\nhimself, as _he_ had a headache, and would rather stay at home. The\nlittle fellow knew quite well that the lion would not dare to go out\nwithout him and his ball for fear of meeting a bear or a snake.\n\nThe quarrel went on, and for many days neither of the brothers spoke\nto each other, and what made them still more cross was, that they\ncould get very little to eat, and we know that people are often cross\nwhen they are hungry. At last it occurred to the lion that if he could\nonly steal the magic ball he could kill bears and snakes for himself,\nand then the cat might be as sulky as he liked for anything that it\nwould matter. But how was the stealing to be done? The cat had the\nball hung round his neck day and night, and he was such a light\nsleeper that it was useless to think of taking it while he slept. No!\nthe only thing was to get him to lend it of his own accord, and after\nsome days the lion (who was not at all clever) hit upon a plan that he\nthought would do.\n\n'Dear me, how dull it is here!' said the lion one afternoon, when the\nrain was pouring down in such torrents that, however sharp your eyes\nor your nose might be, you could not spy a single bird or beast among\nthe bushes. 'Dear me, how dull, how dreadfully dull I am. Couldn't we\nhave a game of catch with that golden ball of yours?'\n\n'I don't care about playing catch, it does not amuse me,' answered the\ncat, who was as cross as ever; for no cat, even to this day, ever\nforgets an injury done to him.\n\n'Well, then, lend me the ball for a little, and I will play by\nmyself,' replied the lion, stretching out a paw as he spoke.\n\n'You can't play in the rain, and if you did, you would only lose it in\nthe bushes,' said the cat.\n\n'Oh, no, I won't; I will play in here. Don't be so ill-natured.' And\nwith a very bad grace the cat untied the string and threw the golden\nball into the lion's lap, and composed himself to sleep again.\n\n * * * * *\n\nFor a long while the lion tossed it up and down gaily, feeling that,\nhowever sound asleep the boy-brother might _look_, he was sure to have\none eye open; but gradually he began to edge closer to the opening,\nand at last gave such a toss that the ball went up high into the air,\nand he could not see what became of it.\n\n'Oh, how stupid of me!' he cried, as the cat sprang up angrily, 'let\nus go at once and search for it. It can't really have fallen very\nfar.' But though they searched that day and the next, and the next\nafter that, they never found it, because it never came down.\n\nAfter the loss of his ball the cat refused to live with the lion any\nlonger, but wandered away to the north, always hoping he might meet\nwith his ball again. But months passed, and years passed, and though\nhe travelled over hundreds of miles, he never saw any traces of it.\n\nAt length, when he was getting quite old, he came to a place unlike\nany that he had ever seen before, where a big river rolled right to\nthe foot of some high mountains. The ground all about the river bank\nwas damp and marshy, and as no cat likes to wet its feet, this one\nclimbed a tree that rose high above the water, and thought sadly of\nhis lost ball, which would have helped him out of this horrible place.\nSuddenly he saw a beautiful ball, for all the world like his own,\ndangling from a branch of the tree he was on. He longed to get at it;\nbut was the branch strong enough to bear his weight? It was no use,\nafter all he had done, getting drowned in the water. However, it could\ndo no harm, if he was to go a little way; he could always manage to\nget back somehow.\n\nSo he stretched himself at full length upon the branch, and wriggled\nhis body cautiously along. To his delight it seemed thick and stout.\nAnother movement, and, by stretching out his paw, he would be able to\ndraw the string towards him, when the branch gave a loud crack, and\nthe cat made haste to wriggle himself back the way he had come.\n\nBut when cats make up their minds to do anything they generally _do_\nit; and this cat began to look about to see if there was really no way\nof getting at his ball. Yes! there was, and it was much surer than the\nother, though rather more difficult. Above the bough where the ball\nhung was another bough much thicker, which he knew could not break\nwith his weight; and by holding on tight to this with all his four\npaws he could just manage to touch the ball with his tail. He would\nthus be able to whisk the ball to and fro till, by-and-by, the string\nwould become quite loose, and it would fall to the ground. It might\ntake some time, but the lion's little brother was patient, like most\ncats.\n\nWell, it all happened just as the cat intended it should, and when the\nball dropped on the ground the cat ran down the tree like lightning,\nand, picking it up, tucked it away in the snake's skin round his neck.\nThen he began jumping along the shore of the Big Water from one place\nto another, trying to find a boat, or even a log of wood, that would\ntake him across. But there was nothing; only, on the other side, he\nsaw two girls cooking, and though he shouted to them at the top of his\nvoice, they were too far off to hear what he said. And, what was\nworse, the ball suddenly fell out of its snake's skin bag right into\nthe river.\n\nNow, it is not at all an uncommon thing for balls to tumble into\nrivers, but in that case they generally either fall to the bottom and\nstay there, or else bob about on the top of the water close to where\nthey first touched it. But this ball, instead of doing either of these\nthings, went straight across to the other side, and there one of the\ngirls saw it when she stooped to dip some water into her pail.\n\n'Oh! what a lovely ball!' cried she, and tried to catch it in her\npail; but the ball always kept bobbing just out of her reach.\n\n'Come and help me!' she called to her sister, and after a long while\nthey had the ball safe inside the pail. They were delighted with their\nnew toy, and one or the other held it in her hand till bedtime came,\nand then it was a long time before they could make up their minds\nwhere it would be safest for the night. At last they locked it in a\ncupboard in one corner of their room, and as there was no hole\nanywhere the ball could not possibly get out. After that they went to\nsleep.\n\nIn the morning the first thing they both did was to run to the\ncupboard and unlock it, but when the door opened they started back,\nfor, instead of the ball, there stood a handsome young man.\n\n'Ladies,' he said, 'how can I thank you for what you have done for me?\nLong, long ago, I was enchanted by a wicked fairy, and condemned to\nkeep the shape of a ball till I should meet with two maidens, who\nwould take me to their own home. But where was I to meet them? For\nhundreds of years I have lived in the depths of the forest, where\nnothing but wild beasts ever came, and it was only when the lion\nthrew me into the sky that I was able to fall to earth near this\nriver. Where there is a river, sooner or later people will come; so,\nhanging myself on a tree, I watched and waited. For a moment I lost\nheart when I fell once more into the hands of my old master the wild\ncat, but my hopes rose again as I saw he was making for the river bank\nopposite where you were standing. That was my chance, and I took it.\nAnd now, ladies, I have only to say that, if ever I can do anything to\nhelp you, go to the top of that high mountain and knock three times at\nthe iron door at the north side, and I will come to you.'\n\nSo, with a low bow, he vanished from before them, leaving the maidens\nweeping at having lost in one moment both the ball and the prince.\n\n[Adapted from _North American Indian Legends_.]\n\n\n\n\n_WHICH WAS THE FOOLISHEST?_\n\n\nIn a little village that stood on a wide plain, where you could see\nthe sun from the moment he rose to the moment he set, there lived two\ncouples side by side. The men, who worked under the same master, were\nquite good friends, but the wives were always quarrelling, and the\nsubject they quarrelled most about was--which of the two had the\nstupidest husband.\n\nUnlike most women--who think that anything that belongs to them must\nbe better than what belongs to anyone else--each thought her own\nhusband the more foolish of the two.\n\n'You should just see what he does!' one said to her neighbour. 'He\nputs on the baby's frock upside down, and, one day, I found him trying\nto feed her with boiling soup, and her mouth was scalded for days\nafter. Then he picks up stones in the road and sows them instead of\npotatoes, and one day he wanted to go into the garden from the top\nwindow, because he declared it was a shorter way than through the\ndoor.'\n\n'That is bad enough, of course,' answered the other; 'but it is really\n_nothing_ to what I have to endure every day from _my_ husband. If,\nwhen I am busy, I ask him to go and feed the poultry, he is certain to\ngive them some poisonous stuff instead of their proper food, and when\nI visit the yard next I find them all dead. Once he even took my best\nbonnet, when I had gone away to my sick mother, and when I came back I\nfound he had given it to the hen to lay her eggs in. And you know\nyourself that, only last week, when I sent him to buy a cask of\nbutter, he returned driving a hundred and fifty ducks which someone\nhad induced him to take, and not one of them would lay.'\n\n'Yes, I am afraid he _is_ trying,' replied the first; 'but let us put\nthem to the proof, and see which of them is the most foolish.'\n\nSo, about the time that she expected her husband home from work, she\ngot out her spinning-wheel, and sat busily turning it, taking care not\neven to look up from her work when the man came in. For some minutes\nhe stood with his mouth open watching her, and as she still remained\nsilent, he said at last:\n\n'Have you gone mad, wife, that you sit spinning without anything on\nthe wheel?'\n\n'_You_ may think that there is nothing on it,' answered she, 'but I\ncan assure you that there is a large skein of wool, so fine that\nnobody can see it, which will be woven into a coat for you.'\n\n'Dear me!' he replied, 'what a clever wife I have got! If you had not\ntold me I should never have known that there was any wool on the wheel\nat all. But now I really do seem to see something.'\n\nThe woman smiled and was silent, and after spinning busily for an hour\nmore, she got up from her stool, and began to weave as fast as she\ncould. At last she got up, and said to her husband: 'I am too tired to\nfinish it to-night, so I shall go to bed, and to-morrow I shall only\nhave the cutting and stitching to do.'\n\nSo the next morning she got up early, and after she had cleaned her\nhouse, and fed her chickens, and put everything in its place again,\nshe bent over the kitchen table, and the sound of her big scissors\nmight be heard snip! snap! as far as the garden. Her husband could not\nsee anything to snip at; but then he was so stupid that was not\nsurprising!\n\nAfter the cutting came the sewing. The woman patted and pinned and\nfixed and joined, and then, turning to the man, she said:\n\n'Now it is ready for you to try on.' And she made him take off his\ncoat, and stand up in front of her, and once more she patted and\npinned and fixed and joined, and was very careful in smoothing out\nevery wrinkle.\n\n'It does not feel very warm,' observed the man at last, when he had\nborne all this patiently for a long time.\n\n'That is because it is so fine,' answered she; 'you do not want it to\nbe as thick as the rough clothes you wear every day.'\n\nHe _did_, but was ashamed to say so, and only answered: 'Well, I am\nsure it must be beautiful since you say so, and I shall be smarter\nthan anyone in the whole village. \"What a splendid coat!\" they will\nexclaim when they see me. But it is not everybody who has a wife as\nclever as mine.'\n\nMeanwhile the other wife was not idle. As soon as her husband entered\nshe looked at him with such a look of terror that the poor man was\nquite frightened.\n\n'Why do you stare at me so? Is there anything the matter?' asked he.\n\n'Oh! go to bed at once,' she cried; 'you must be very ill indeed to\nlook like that!'\n\nThe man was rather surprised at first, as he felt particularly well\nthat evening; but the moment his wife spoke he became quite certain\nthat he had something dreadful the matter with him, and grew quite\npale.\n\n'I dare say it would be the best place for me,' he answered,\ntrembling; and he suffered his wife to take him upstairs, and to help\nhim off with his clothes.\n\n'If you sleep well during the night there _may_ be a chance for you,'\nsaid she, shaking her head, as she tucked him up warmly; 'but if\nnot----' And of course the poor man never closed an eye till the sun\nrose.\n\n'How do you feel this morning?' asked the woman, coming in on tip-toe\nwhen her house-work was finished.\n\n'Oh, bad; very bad indeed,' answered he; 'I have not slept for a\nmoment. Can you think of nothing to make me better?'\n\n'I will try everything that is possible,' said the wife, who did not\nin the least wish her husband to die, but was determined to show that\nhe was more foolish than the other man. 'I will get some dried herbs\nand make you a drink, but I am very much afraid that it is too late.\nWhy did you not tell me before?'\n\n'I thought perhaps the pain would go off in a day or two; and,\nbesides, I did not want to make you unhappy,' answered the man, who\nwas by this time quite sure he had been suffering tortures, and had\nborne them like a hero. 'Of course, if I had had any idea how ill I\nreally was, I should have spoken at once.'\n\n'Well, well, I will see what can be done,' said the wife, 'but talking\nis not good for you. Lie still, and keep yourself warm.'\n\nAll that day the man lay in bed, and whenever his wife entered the\nroom and asked him, with a shake of the head, how he felt, he always\nreplied that he was getting worse. At last, in the evening, she burst\ninto tears, and when he inquired what was the matter, she sobbed out:\n\n'Oh, my poor, poor husband, are you really dead? I must go to-morrow\nand order your coffin.'\n\nNow, when the man heard this, a cold shiver ran through his body, and\nall at once he knew that he was as well as he had ever been in his\nlife.\n\n'Oh, no, no!' he cried, 'I feel quite recovered! Indeed, I think I\nshall go out to work.'\n\n'You will do no such thing,' replied his wife. 'Just keep quite quiet,\nfor before the sun rises you will be a dead man.'\n\nThe man was very frightened at her words, and lay absolutely still\nwhile the undertaker came and measured him for his coffin; and his\nwife gave orders to the gravedigger about his grave. That evening the\ncoffin was sent home, and in the morning at nine o'clock the woman\nput him on a long flannel garment, and called to the undertaker's men\nto fasten down the lid and carry him to the grave, where all their\nfriends were waiting them. Just as the body was being placed in the\nground the other woman's husband came running up, dressed, as far as\nanyone could see, in no clothes at all. Everybody burst into shouts of\nlaughter at the sight of him, and the men laid down the coffin and\nlaughed too, till their sides nearly split. The dead man was so\nastonished at this behaviour, that he peeped out of a little window in\nthe side of the coffin, and cried out:\n\n'I should laugh as loudly as any of you, if I were not a dead man.'\n\nWhen they heard the voice coming from the coffin the other people\nsuddenly stopped laughing, and stood as if they had been turned into\nstone. Then they rushed with one accord to the coffin, and lifted the\nlid so that the man could step out amongst them.\n\n'Were you really not dead after all?' asked they. 'And if not, why did\nyou let yourself be buried?'\n\nAt this the wives both confessed that they had each wished to prove\nthat her husband was stupider than the other. But the villagers\ndeclared that they could not decide which was the most foolish--the\nman who allowed himself to be persuaded that he was wearing fine\nclothes when he was dressed in nothing, or the man who let himself be\nburied when he was alive and well.\n\nSo the women quarrelled just as much as they did before, and no one\never knew whose husband was the most foolish.\n\n[Adapted from the _Neuisl\u00e4ndischen Volksm\u00e4rchen_.]\n\n\n\n\n_ASMUND AND SIGNY_\n\n\nLong, long ago, in the days when fairies, witches, giants, and ogres\nstill visited the earth, there lived a king who reigned over a great\nand beautiful country. He was married to a wife whom he dearly loved,\nand had two most promising children--a son called Asmund, and a\ndaughter who was named Signy.\n\nThe king and queen were very anxious to bring their children up well,\nand the young prince and princess were taught everything likely to\nmake them clever and accomplished. They lived at home in their\nfather's palace, and he spared no pains to make their lives happy.\n\nPrince Asmund dearly loved all outdoor sports and an open-air life,\nand from his earliest childhood he had longed to live entirely in the\nforest close by. After many arguments and entreaties he succeeded in\npersuading the king to give him two great oak trees for his very own.\n\n'Now,' said he to his sister, 'I will have the trees hollowed out, and\nthen I will make rooms in them and furnish them so that I shall be\nable to live out in the forest.'\n\n'Oh, Asmund!' exclaimed Signy, 'what a delightful idea! Do let me come\ntoo, and live in one of your trees. I will bring all my pretty things\nand ornaments, and the trees are so near home we shall be quite safe\nin them.'\n\nAsmund, who was extremely fond of his sister, readily consented, and\nthey had a very happy time together, carrying over all their pet\ntreasures, and Signy's jewels and other ornaments, and arranging them\nin the pretty little rooms inside the trees.\n\nUnfortunately sadder days were to come. A war with another country\nbroke out, and the king had to lead his army against their enemy.\nDuring his absence the queen fell ill, and after lingering for some\ntime she died, to the great grief of her children. They made up their\nminds to live altogether for a time in their trees, and for this\npurpose they had provisions enough stored up inside to last them a\nyear.\n\nNow, I must tell you, in another country a long way off, there reigned\na king who had an only son named Ring. Prince Ring had heard so much\nabout the beauty and goodness of Princess Signy that he determined to\nmarry her if possible. So he begged his father to let him have a ship\nfor the voyage, set sail with a favourable wind, and after a time\nlanded in the country where Signy lived.\n\nThe prince lost no time in setting out for the royal palace, and on\nhis way there he met such a wonderfully lovely woman that he felt he\nhad never seen such beauty before in all his life. He stopped her and\nat once asked who she was.\n\n'I am Signy, the king's daughter,' was the reply.\n\nThen the prince inquired why she was wandering about all by herself,\nand she told him that since her mother's death she was so sad that\nwhilst her father was away she preferred being alone.\n\nRing was quite deceived by her, and never guessed that she was not\nPrincess Signy at all, but a strong, gigantic, wicked witch bent on\ndeceiving him under a beautiful shape. He confided to her that he had\ntravelled all the way from his own country for her sake, having fallen\nin love with the accounts he had heard of her beauty, and he then and\nthere asked her to be his wife.\n\nThe witch listened to all he said and, much pleased, ended by\naccepting his offer; but she begged him to return to his ship for a\nlittle while as she wished to go some way further into the forest,\npromising to join him later on.\n\nPrince Ring did as she wished and went back to his ship to wait,\nwhilst she walked on into the forest till she reached the two oak\ntrees.\n\nHere she resumed her own gigantic shape, tore up the trees by their\nroots, threw one of them over her back and clasped the other to her\nbreast, carried them down to the shore and waded out with them to the\nship.\n\nShe took care not to be noticed as she reached the ship, and directly\nshe got on board she once more changed to her former lovely appearance\nand told the prince that her luggage was now all on board, and that\nthey need wait for nothing more.\n\nThe prince gave orders to set sail at once, and after a fine voyage\nlanded in his own country, where his parents and his only sister\nreceived him with the greatest joy and affection.\n\nThe false Signy was also very kindly welcomed. A beautiful house was\ngot ready for her, and Prince Ring had the two oaks planted in the\ngarden just in front of her windows so that she might have the\npleasure of seeing them constantly. He often went to visit the witch,\nwhom he believed to be Princess Signy, and one day he asked: 'Don't\nyou think we might be married before long?'\n\n'Yes,' said she, quite pleased, 'I am quite ready to marry you\nwhenever you like.'\n\n'Then,' replied Ring, 'let us decide on this day fortnight. And see, I\nhave brought you some stuff to make your wedding-dress of.' So saying\nhe gave her a large piece of the most beautiful brocade, all woven\nover with gold threads, and embroidered with pearls and other jewels.\n\nThe prince had hardly left her before the witch resumed her proper\nshape and tore about the room, raging and storming and flinging the\nbeautiful silk on the floor.\n\n'What was _she_ to do with such things?' she roared. '_She_ did not\nknow how to sew or make clothes, and she was sure to die of starvation\ninto the bargain if her brother Ironhead did not come soon and bring\nher some raw meat and bones, for she really could eat nothing else.'\n\nAs she was raving and roaring in this frantic manner part of the floor\nsuddenly opened and a huge giant rose up carrying a great chest in his\narms. The witch was enchanted at this sight, and eagerly helped her\nbrother to set down and open the chest, which was full of the ghastly\nfood she had been longing for. The horrid pair set to and greedily\ndevoured it all, and when the chest was quite empty the giant put it\non his shoulder and disappeared as he had come, without leaving any\ntrace of his visit.\n\nBut his sister did not keep quiet for long, and tore and pulled at the\nrich brocade as if she wanted to destroy it, stamping about and\nshouting angrily.\n\nNow, all this time Prince Asmund and his sister sat in their trees\njust outside the window and saw all that was going on.\n\n'Dear Signy,' said Asmund, 'do try to get hold of that piece of\nbrocade and make the clothes yourself, for really we shall have no\nrest day or night with such a noise.'\n\n'I will try,' said Signy; 'it won't be an easy matter, but it's worth\nwhile taking some trouble to have a little peace.'\n\nSo she watched for an opportunity and managed to carry off the brocade\nthe first time the witch left her room. Then she set to work, cutting\nout and sewing as best she could, and by the end of six days she had\nturned it into an elegant robe with a long train and a mantle. When it\nwas finished she climbed to the top of her tree and contrived to\nthrow the clothes on to a table through the open window.\n\n [Illustration: SIGNY AT THE WINDOW]\n\nHow delighted the witch was when she found the clothes all finished!\nThe next time Prince Ring came to see her she gave them to him, and he\npaid her many compliments on her skilful work, after which he took\nleave of her in the most friendly manner. But he had scarcely left the\nhouse when the witch began to rage as furiously as ever, and never\nstopped till her brother Ironhead appeared.\n\nWhen Asmund saw all these wild doings from his tree he felt he could\nno longer keep silence. He went to Prince Ring and said: 'Do come with\nme and see the strange things that are happening in the new princess's\nroom.'\n\nThe prince was not a little surprised, but he consented to hide\nhimself with Asmund behind the panelling of the room, from where they\ncould see all that went on through a little slit. The witch was raving\nand roaring as usual, and said to her brother:\n\n'Once I am married to the king's son I shall be better off than now. I\nshall take care to have all that pack of courtiers put to death, and\nthen I shall send for all my relations to come and live here instead.\nI fancy the giants will enjoy themselves very much with me and my\nhusband.'\n\nWhen Prince Ring heard this he fell into such a rage that he ordered\nthe house to be set on fire, and it was burnt to the ground, with the\nwitch and her brother in it.\n\nAsmund then told the prince about the two oak trees and took him to\nsee them. The prince was quite astonished at them and at all their\ncontents, but still more so at the extreme beauty of Signy. He fell in\nlove with her at once, and entreated her to marry him, which, after a\ntime, she consented to do. Asmund, on his side, asked for the hand of\nPrince Ring's sister, which was gladly granted him, and the double\nwedding was celebrated with great rejoicings.\n\nAfter this Prince Asmund and his bride returned to his country to live\nwith the king his father. The two couples often met, and lived happily\nfor many, many years. And that is the end of the story.\n\n[From _Isl\u00e4ndische M\u00e4hrchen_.]\n\n\n\n\n_R\u00dcBEZAHL_\n\n\nOver all the vast under-world the mountain Gnome R\u00fcbezahl was lord;\nand busy enough the care of his dominions kept him. There were the\nendless treasure chambers to be gone through, and the hosts of gnomes\nto be kept to their tasks. Some built strong barriers to hold back the\nfiery rivers in the earth's heart, and some had scalding vapours to\nchange dull stones to precious metal, or were hard at work filling\nevery cranny of the rocks with diamonds and rubies; for R\u00fcbezahl loved\nall pretty things. Sometimes the fancy would take him to leave those\ngloomy regions, and come out upon the green earth for a while, and\nbask in the sunshine and hear the birds sing. And as gnomes live many\nhundreds of years he saw strange things. For, the first time he came\nup, the great hills were covered with thick forests, in which wild\nanimals roamed, and R\u00fcbezahl watched the fierce fights between bear\nand bison, or chased the grey wolves, or amused himself by rolling\ngreat rocks down into the desolate valleys, to hear the thunder of\ntheir fall echoing among the hills. But the next time he ventured\nabove ground, what was his surprise to find everything changed! The\ndark woods were hewn down, and in their place appeared blossoming\norchards surrounding cosy-looking thatched cottages; from every\nchimney the blue smoke curled peacefully into the air, sheep and oxen\nfed in the flowery meadows, while from the shade of the hedges came\nthe music of the shepherd's pipe. The strangeness and pleasantness of\nthe sight so delighted the gnome that he never thought of resenting\nthe intrusion of these unexpected guests, who, without saying 'by your\nleave' or 'with your leave,' had made themselves so very much at home\nupon his hills; nor did he wish to interfere with their doings, but\nleft them in quiet possession of their homes, as a good householder\nleaves in peace the swallows who have built their nests under his\neaves. He was indeed greatly minded to make friends with this being\ncalled 'man,' so, taking the form of an old field labourer, he entered\nthe service of a farmer. Under his care all the crops flourished\nexceedingly, but the master proved to be wasteful and ungrateful, and\nR\u00fcbezahl soon left him, and went to be shepherd to his next neighbour.\nHe tended the flock so diligently, and knew so well where to lead the\nsheep to the sweetest pastures, and where among the hills to look for\nany who strayed away, that they too prospered under his care, and not\none was lost or torn by wolves; but this new master was a hard man,\nand begrudged him his well-earned wages. So he ran away and went to\nserve the judge. Here he upheld the law with might and main, and was a\nterror to thieves and evildoers; but the judge was a bad man, who took\nbribes, and despised the law. R\u00fcbezahl would not be the tool of an\nunjust man, and so he told his master, who thereupon ordered him to be\nthrown into prison. Of course that did not trouble the gnome at all,\nhe simply got out through the keyhole, and went away down to his\nunderground palace, very much disappointed by his first experience of\nmankind. But, as time went on, he forgot the disagreeable things that\nhad happened to him, and thought he would take another look at the\nupper world.\n\n [Illustration: THE GNOME FALLS IN LOVE WITH THE PRINCESS]\n\nSo he stole into the valley, keeping himself carefully hidden in copse\nor hedgerow, and very soon met with an adventure; for, peeping through\na screen of leaves, he saw before him a green lawn where stood a\ncharming maiden, fresh as the spring, and beautiful to look upon.\nAround her upon the grass lay her young companions, as if they had\nthrown themselves down to rest after some merry game. Beyond them\nflowed a little brook, into which a waterfall leapt from a high rock,\nfilling the air with its pleasant sound, and making a coolness even in\nthe sultry noontide. The sight of the maiden so pleased the gnome\nthat, for the first time, he wished himself a mortal; and, longing for\na better view of the gay company, he changed himself into a raven and\nperched upon an oak-tree which overhung the brook. But he soon found\nthat this was not at all a good plan. He could only see with a raven's\neyes, and feel as a raven feels; and a nest of field-mice at the foot\nof the tree interested him far more than the sport of the maidens.\nWhen he understood this he flew down again in a great hurry into the\nthicket, and took the form of a handsome young man--that was the best\nway--and he fell in love with the girl then and there. The fair maiden\nwas the daughter of the king of the country, and she often wandered in\nthe forest with her play fellows gathering the wild flowers and\nfruits, till the midday heat drove the merry band to the shady lawn by\nthe brook to rest, or to bathe in the cool waters. On this particular\nmorning the fancy took them to wander off again into the wood. This\nwas Master R\u00fcbezahl's opportunity. Stepping out of his hiding-place he\nstood in the midst of the little lawn, weaving his magic spells, till\nslowly all about him changed, and when the maidens returned at noon to\ntheir favourite resting-place they stood lost in amazement, and almost\nfancied that they must be dreaming. The red rocks had become white\nmarble and alabaster; the stream that murmured and struggled before in\nits rocky bed, flowed in silence now in its smooth channel, from which\na clear fountain leapt, to fall again in showers of diamond drops, now\non this side now on that, as the wandering breeze scattered it.\n\nDaisies and forget-me-nots fringed its brink, while tall hedges of\nroses and jasmine ringed it round, making the sweetest and daintiest\nbower imaginable. To the right and left of the waterfall opened out a\nwonderful grotto, its walls and arches glittering with many-coloured\nrock-crystals, while in every niche were spread out strange fruits and\nsweetmeats, the very sight of which made the princess long to taste\nthem. She hesitated a while, however, scarcely able to believe her\neyes, and not knowing if she should enter the enchanted spot or fly\nfrom it. But at length curiosity prevailed, and she and her companions\nexplored to their heart's content, and tasted and examined everything,\nrunning hither and thither in high glee, and calling merrily to each\nother.\n\nAt last, when they were quite weary, the princess cried out suddenly\nthat nothing would content her but to bathe in the marble pool, which\ncertainly did look very inviting; and they all went gaily to this new\namusement. The princess was ready first, but scarcely had she slipped\nover the rim of the pool when down--down--down she sank, and vanished\nin its depths before her frightened playmates could seize her by so\nmuch as a lock of her floating golden hair!\n\nLoudly did they weep and wail, running about the brink of the pool,\nwhich looked so shallow and so clear, but which had swallowed up their\nprincess before their eyes. They even sprang into the water and tried\nto dive after her, but in vain; they only floated like corks in the\nenchanted pool, and could not keep under water for a second.\n\nThey saw at last that there was nothing for it but to carry to the\nking the sad tidings of his beloved daughter's disappearance. And what\ngreat weeping and lamentation there was in the palace when the\ndreadful news was told! The king tore his robes, dashed his golden\ncrown from his head, and hid his face in his purple mantle for grief\nand anguish at the loss of the princess. After the first outburst of\nwailing, however, he took heart and hurried off to see for himself the\nscene of this strange adventure, thinking, as people will in sorrow,\nthat there might be some mistake after all. But when he reached the\nspot, behold, all was changed again! The glittering grotto described\nto him by the maidens had completely vanished, and so had the marble\nbath, the bower of jasmine; instead, all was a tangle of flowers, as\nit had been of old. The king was so much perplexed that he threatened\nthe princess's playfellows with all sorts of punishments if they would\nnot confess something about her disappearance; but as they only\nrepeated the same story he presently put down the whole affair to the\nwork of some sprite or goblin, and tried to console himself for his\nloss by ordering a grand hunt; for kings cannot bear to be troubled\nabout anything long.\n\nMeanwhile the princess was not at all unhappy in the palace of her\nelfish lover.\n\nWhen the water-nymphs, who were hiding in readiness, had caught her\nand dragged her out of the sight of her terrified maidens, she herself\nhad not had time to be frightened. They swam with her quickly by\nstrange underground ways to a palace so splendid that her father's\nseemed but a poor cottage in comparison with it, and when she\nrecovered from her astonishment she found herself seated upon a couch,\nwrapped in a wonderful robe of satin fastened with a silken girdle,\nwhile beside her knelt a young man who whispered the sweetest speeches\nimaginable in her ear. The gnome, for he it was, told her all about\nhimself and his great underground kingdom, and presently led her\nthrough the many rooms and halls of the palace, and showed her the\nrare and wonderful things displayed in them till she was fairly\ndazzled at the sight of so much splendour. On three sides of the\ncastle lay a lovely garden with masses of gay, sweet flowers, and\nvelvet lawns all cool and shady, which pleased the eye of the\nprincess. The fruit trees were hung with golden and rosy apples, and\nnightingales sang in every bush, as the gnome and the princess\nwandered in the leafy alleys, sometimes gazing at the moon, sometimes\npausing to gather the rarest flowers for her adornment. And all the\ntime he was thinking to himself that never, during the hundreds of\nyears he had lived, had he seen so charming a maiden. But the princess\nfelt no such happiness; in spite of all the magic delights around her\nshe was sad, though she tried to seem content for fear of displeasing\nthe gnome. However, he soon perceived her melancholy, and in a\nthousand ways strove to dispel the cloud, but in vain. At last he said\nto himself: 'Men are sociable creatures, like bees or ants. Doubtless\nthis lovely mortal is pining for company. Who is there I can find for\nher to talk to?'\n\nThereupon he hastened into the nearest field and dug up a dozen or so\nof different roots--carrots, turnips, and radishes--and laying them\ncarefully in an elegant basket brought them to the princess, who sat\npensive in the shade of the rose-bower.\n\n'Loveliest daughter of earth,' said the gnome, 'banish all sorrow; no\nmore shall you be lonely in my dwelling. In this basket is all you\nneed to make this spot delightful to you. Take this little\nmany-coloured wand, and with a touch give to each root the form you\ndesire to see.'\n\nWith this he left her, and the princess, without an instant's delay,\nopened the basket, and touching a turnip, cried eagerly: 'Brunhilda,\nmy dear Brunhilda! come to me quickly!' And sure enough there was\nBrunhilda, joyfully hugging and kissing her beloved princess, and\nchattering as gaily as in the old days.\n\n [Illustration: R\u00dcBEZAHL AND THE PRINCESS]\n\nThis sudden appearance was so delightful that the princess could\nhardly believe her own eyes, and was quite beside herself with the joy\nof having her dear playfellow with her once more. Hand in hand they\nwandered about the enchanted garden, and gathered the golden apples\nfrom the trees, and when they were tired of this amusement the\nprincess led her friend through all the wonderful rooms of the\npalace, until at last they came to the one in which were kept all the\nmarvellous dresses and ornaments the gnome had given to his hoped-for\nbride. There they found so much to amuse them that the hours passed\nlike minutes. Veils, girdles, and necklaces were tried on and admired,\nthe imitation Brunhilda knew so well how to behave herself, and showed\nso much taste that nobody would ever have suspected that she was\nnothing but a turnip after all. The gnome, who had secretly been\nkeeping an eye upon them, was very pleased with himself for having so\nwell understood the heart of a woman; and the princess seemed to him\neven more charming than before. She did not forget to touch the rest\nof the roots with her magic wand, and soon had all her maidens about\nher, and even, as she had two tiny radishes to spare, her favourite\ncat, and her little dog whose name was Beni.\n\nAnd now all went cheerfully in the castle. The princess gave to each\nof the maidens her task, and never was mistress better served. For a\nwhole week she enjoyed the delight of her pleasant company\nundisturbed. They all sang, they danced, they played from morning to\nnight; only the princess noticed that day by day the fresh young faces\nof her maidens grew pale and wan, and the mirror in the great marble\nhall showed her that she alone still kept her rosy bloom, while\nBrunhilda and the rest faded visibly. They assured her that all was\nwell with them; but, nevertheless, they continued to waste away, and\nday by day it became harder to them to take part in the games of the\nprincess, till at last, one fine morning, when the princess started\nfrom bed and hastened out to join her gay playfellows, she shuddered\nand started back at the sight of a group of shrivelled crones, with\nbent backs and trembling limbs, who supported their tottering steps\nwith staves and crutches, and coughed dismally. A little nearer to the\nhearth lay the once frolicsome Beni, with all four feet stretched\nstiffly out, while the sleek cat seemed too weak to raise his head\nfrom his velvet cushion.\n\nThe horrified princess fled to the door to escape from the sight of\nthis mournful company, and called loudly for the gnome, who appeared\nat once, humbly anxious to do her bidding.\n\n'Malicious Sprite,' she cried, 'why do you begrudge me my\nplaymates--the greatest delight of my lonely hours? Isn't this\nsolitary life in such a desert bad enough without your turning the\ncastle into a hospital for the aged? Give my maidens back their youth\nand health this very minute, or I will never love you!'\n\n'Sweetest and fairest of damsels,' cried the gnome, 'do not be angry;\neverything that is in my power I will do--but do not ask the\nimpossible. So long as the sap was fresh in the roots the magic staff\ncould keep them in the forms you desired, but as the sap dried up they\nwithered away. But never trouble yourself about that, dearest one, a\nbasket of fresh turnips will soon set matters right, and you can\nspeedily call up again every form you wish to see. The great green\npatch in the garden will provide you with a more lively company.'\n\nSo saying the gnome took himself off. And the princess with her magic\nwand touched the wrinkled old women, and left them the withered roots\nthey really were, to be thrown upon the rubbish heap; and with light\nfeet skipped off across to the meadow to take possession of the\nfreshly filled basket. But to her surprise she could not find it\nanywhere. Up and down the garden she searched, spying into every\ncorner, but not a sign of it was to be found. By the trellis of grape\nvines she met the gnome, who was so much embarrassed at the sight of\nher that she became aware of his confusion while he was still quite a\nlong way off.\n\n'You are trying to tease me,' she cried, as soon as she saw him.\n'Where have you hidden the basket? I have been looking for it at least\nan hour.'\n\n'Dear queen of my heart,' answered he, 'I pray you to forgive my\ncarelessness. I promised more than I could perform. I have sought all\nover the land for the roots you desire; but they are gathered in, and\nlie drying in musty cellars, and the fields are bare and desolate, for\nbelow in the valley winter reigns, only here in your presence spring\nis held fast, and wherever your foot is set the gay flowers bloom.\nHave patience for a little, and then without fail you shall have your\npuppets to play with.'\n\nAlmost before the gnome had finished, the disappointed princess turned\naway, and marched off to her own apartments, without deigning to\nanswer him.\n\nThe gnome, however, set off above ground as speedily as possible, and\ndisguising himself as a farmer, bought an ass in the nearest\nmarket-town, and brought it back loaded with sacks of turnip, carrot,\nand radish seed. With this he sowed a great field, and sent a vast\narmy of his goblins to watch and tend it, and to bring up the fiery\nrivers from the heart of the earth near enough to warm and encourage\nthe sprouting seeds. Thus fostered they grew and flourished\nmarvellously, and promised a goodly crop.\n\nThe princess wandered about the field day by day, no other plants or\nfruits in all her wonderful garden pleased her as much as these roots;\nbut still her eyes were full of discontent. And, best of all, she\nloved to while away the hours in a shady fir-wood, seated upon the\nbank of a little stream, into which she would cast the flowers she had\ngathered and watch them float away.\n\nThe gnome tried hard by every means in his power to please the\nprincess and win her love, but little did he guess the real reason of\nhis lack of success. He imagined that she was too young and\ninexperienced to care for him; but that was a mistake, for the truth\nwas that another image already filled her heart. The young Prince\nRatibor, whose lands joined her father's, had won the heart of the\nprincess; and the lovers had been looking forward to the coming of\ntheir wedding-day when the bride's mysterious disappearance took\nplace. The sad news drove Ratibor distracted, and as the days went on,\nand nothing could be heard of the princess, he forsook his castle and\nthe society of men, and spent his days in the wild forests, roaming\nabout and crying her name aloud to the trees and rocks. Meanwhile, the\nmaiden, in her gorgeous prison, sighed in secret over her grief, not\nwishing to arouse the gnome's suspicions. In her own mind she was\nwondering if by any means she might escape from her captivity, and at\nlast she hit upon a plan.\n\nBy this time spring once more reigned in the valley, and the gnome\nsent the fires back to their places in the deeps of the earth, for the\nroots which they had kept warm through all the cruel winter had now\ncome to their full size. Day by day the princess pulled up some of\nthem, and made experiments with them, conjuring up now this longed-for\nperson, and now that, just for the pleasure of seeing them as they\nappeared; but she really had another purpose in view.\n\nOne day she changed a tiny turnip into a bee, and sent him off to\nbring her some news of her lover.\n\n'Fly, dear little bee, towards the east,' said she, 'to my beloved\nRatibor, and softly hum into his ear that I love him only, but that I\nam a captive in the gnome's palace under the mountains. Do not forget\na single word of my greeting, and bring me back a message from my\nbeloved.'\n\nSo the bee spread his shining wings and flew away to do as he was\nbidden; but before he was out of sight a greedy swallow made a snatch\nat him, and to the great grief of the princess her messenger was eaten\nup then and there.\n\nAfter that, by the power of the wonderful wand she summoned a cricket,\nand taught him this greeting:\n\n'Hop, little cricket, to Ratibor, and chirp in his ear that I love\nhim only, but that I am held captive by the gnome in his palace under\nthe mountains.'\n\nSo the cricket hopped off gaily, determined to do his best to deliver\nhis message; but, alas! a long-legged stork who was prancing along the\nsame road caught him in her cruel beak, and before he could say a word\nhe had disappeared down her throat.\n\nThese two unlucky ventures did not prevent the princess from trying\nonce more.\n\nThis time she changed the turnip into a magpie.\n\n'Flutter from tree to tree, chattering bird,' said she, 'till you come\nto Ratibor, my love. Tell him that I am a captive, and bid him come\nwith horses and men, the third day from this, to the hill that rises\nfrom the Thorny Valley.'\n\nThe magpie listened, hopped awhile from branch to branch, and then\ndarted away, the princess watching him anxiously as far as she could\nsee.\n\nNow Prince Ratibor was still spending his life in wandering about the\nwoods, and not even the beauty of the spring could soothe his grief.\n\nOne day, as he sat in the shade of an oak tree, dreaming of his lost\nprincess, and sometimes crying her name aloud, he seemed to hear\nanother voice reply to his, and, starting up, he gazed around him, but\nhe could see no one, and he had just made up his mind that he must be\nmistaken, when the same voice called again, and, looking up sharply,\nhe saw a magpie which hopped to and fro among the twigs. Then Ratibor\nheard with surprise that the bird was indeed calling him by name.\n\n'Poor chatterpie,' said he; 'who taught you to say that name, which\nbelongs to an unlucky mortal who wishes the earth would open and\nswallow up him and his memory for ever?'\n\nThereupon he caught up a great stone, and would have hurled it at the\nmagpie, if it had not at that moment uttered the name of the princess.\n\nThis was so unexpected that the prince's arm fell helplessly to his\nside at the sound, and he stood motionless.\n\nBut the magpie in the tree, who, like all the rest of his family, was\nnot happy unless he could be for ever chattering, began to repeat the\nmessage the princess had taught him; and as soon as he understood it,\nPrince Ratibor's heart was filled with joy. All his gloom and misery\nvanished in a moment, and he anxiously questioned the welcome\nmessenger as to the fate of the princess.\n\nBut the magpie knew no more than the lesson he had learnt, so he soon\nfluttered away; while the prince hurried back to his castle to gather\ntogether a troop of horsemen, full of courage for whatever might\nbefall.\n\nThe princess meanwhile was craftily pursuing her plan of escape. She\nleft off treating the gnome with coldness and indifference; indeed,\nthere was a look in her eyes which encouraged him to hope that she\nmight some day return his love, and the idea pleased him mightily. The\nnext day, as soon as the sun rose, she made her appearance decked as a\nbride, in the wonderful robes and jewels which the fond gnome had\nprepared for her. Her golden hair was braided and crowned with myrtle\nblossoms, and her flowing veil sparkled with gems. In these\nmagnificent garments she went to meet the gnome upon the great\nterrace.\n\n'Loveliest of maidens,' he stammered, bowing low before her, 'let me\ngaze into your dear eyes, and read in them that you will no longer\nrefuse my love, but will make me the happiest being the sun shines\nupon.'\n\nSo saying he would have drawn aside her veil; but the princess only\nheld it more closely about her.\n\n'Your constancy has overcome me,' she said; 'I can no longer oppose\nyour wishes. But believe my words, and suffer this veil still to hide\nmy blushes and tears.'\n\n'Why tears, beloved one?' cried the gnome anxiously; 'every tear of\nyours falls upon my heart like a drop of molten gold. Greatly as I\ndesire your love, I do not ask a sacrifice.'\n\n'Ah!' cried the false princess, 'why do you misunderstand my tears? My\nheart answers to your tenderness, and yet I am fearful. A wife cannot\nalways charm, and though _you_ will never alter, the beauty of mortals\nis as a flower that fades. How can I be sure that you will always be\nas loving and charming as you are now?'\n\n'Ask some proof, sweetheart,' said he. 'Put my obedience and my\npatience to some test by which you can judge of my unalterable love.'\n\n'Be it so,' answered the crafty maiden. 'Then give me just one proof\nof your goodness. Go! count the turnips in yonder meadow. My wedding\nfeast must not lack guests. They shall provide me with bride-maidens\ntoo. But beware lest you deceive me, and do not miss a single one.\nThat shall be the test of your truth towards me.'\n\nUnwilling as the gnome was to lose sight of his beautiful bride for a\nmoment, he obeyed her commands without delay, and hurried off to begin\nhis task. He skipped along among the turnips as nimbly as a\ngrasshopper, and had soon counted them all; but, to be quite certain\nthat he had made no mistake, he thought he would just run over them\nagain. This time, to his great annoyance, the number was different; so\nhe reckoned them for the third time, but now the number was not the\nsame as either of the previous ones! And this was hardly to be\nwondered at, as his mind was full of the princess's pretty looks and\nwords.\n\nAs for the maiden, no sooner was her deluded lover fairly out of sight\nthan she began to prepare for flight. She had a fine fresh turnip\nhidden close at hand, which she changed into a spirited horse, all\nsaddled and bridled, and, springing upon its back, she galloped away\nover hill and dale till she reached the Thorny Valley, and flung\nherself into the arms of her beloved Prince Ratibor.\n\nMeanwhile the toiling gnome went through his task over and over again\ntill his back ached and his head swam, and he could no longer put two\nand two together; but as he felt tolerably certain of the exact number\nof turnips in the field, big and little together, he hurried back\neager to prove to his beloved one what a delightful and submissive\nhusband he would be. He felt very well satisfied with himself as he\ncrossed the mossy lawn to the place where he had left her; but, alas!\nshe was no longer there.\n\nHe searched every thicket and path, he looked behind every tree, and\ngazed into every pond, but without success; then he hastened into the\npalace and rushed from room to room, peering into every hole and\ncorner and calling her by name; but only echo answered in the marble\nhalls--there was neither voice nor footstep.\n\nThen he began to perceive that something was amiss, and, throwing off\nthe mortal form that encumbered him, he flew out of the palace, and\nsoared high into the air, and saw the fugitive princess in the far\ndistance just as the swift horse carried her across the boundary of\nhis dominions.\n\nFuriously did the enraged gnome fling two great clouds together, and\nhurl a thunderbolt after the flying maiden, splintering the rocky\nbarriers which had stood a thousand years. But his fury was vain, the\nthunderclouds melted away into a soft mist, and the gnome, after\nflying about for a while in despair, bewailing to the four winds his\nunhappy fate, went sorrowfully back to the palace, and stole once more\nthrough every room, with many sighs and lamentations. He passed\nthrough the gardens which for him had lost their charm, and the sight\nof the princess's footprints on the golden sand of the pathway renewed\nhis grief. All was lonely, empty, sorrowful; and the forsaken gnome\nresolved that he would have no more dealings with such false creatures\nas he had found men to be.\n\nThereupon he stamped three times upon the earth, and the magic\npalace, with all its treasures, vanished away into the nothingness out\nof which he had called it; and the gnome fled once more to the depths\nof his underground kingdom.\n\n * * * * *\n\nWhile all this was happening, Prince Ratibor was hurrying away with\nhis prize to a place of safety. With great pomp and triumph he\nrestored the lovely princess to her father, and was then and there\nmarried to her, and took her back with him to his own castle.\n\nBut long after she was dead, and her children too, the villagers would\ntell the tale of her imprisonment underground, as they sat carving\nwood in the winter nights.\n\n[_Volksm\u00e4hrchen der Deutschen._]\n\n\n\n\n_STORY OF THE KING WHO WOULD BE STRONGER THAN FATE_\n\n\nOnce upon a time, far away in the east country, there lived a king who\nloved hunting so much that, when once there was a deer in sight, he\nwas careless of his own safety. Indeed, he often became quite\nseparated from his nobles and attendants, and in fact was particularly\nfond of lonely adventures. Another of his favourite amusements was to\ngive out that he was not well, and could not be seen; and then, with\nthe knowledge only of his faithful Grand Wazeer, to disguise himself\nas a pedlar, load a donkey with cheap wares, and travel about. In this\nway he found out what the common people said about him, and how his\njudges and governors fulfilled their duties.\n\nOne day his queen presented him with a baby daughter as beautiful as\nthe dawn, and the king himself was so happy and delighted that, for a\nwhole week, he forgot to hunt, and spent the time in public and\nprivate rejoicing.\n\nNot long afterwards, however, he went out after some deer which were\nto be found in a far corner of his forests. In the course of the beat\nhis dogs disturbed a beautiful snow-white stag, and directly he saw it\nthe king determined that he would have it at any cost. So he put the\nspurs to his horse, and followed it as hard as he could gallop. Of\ncourse all his attendants followed at the best speed that they could\nmanage; but the king was so splendidly mounted, and the stag was so\nswift, that, at the end of an hour, the king found that only his\nfavourite hound and himself were in the chase; all the rest were far,\nfar behind and out of sight.\n\nNothing daunted, however, he went on and on, till he perceived that he\nwas entering a valley with great rocky mountains on all sides, and\nthat his horse was getting very tired and trembled at every stride.\nWorse than all evening was already drawing on, and the sun would soon\nset. In vain had he sent arrow after arrow at the beautiful stag.\nEvery shot fell short, or went wide of the mark; and at last, just as\ndarkness was setting in, he lost sight altogether of the beast. By\nthis time his horse could hardly move from fatigue, his hound\nstaggered panting along beside him, he was far away amongst mountains\nwhere he had never been before, and had quite missed his way, and not\na human creature or dwelling was in sight.\n\nAll this was very discouraging, but the king would not have minded if\nhe had not lost that beautiful stag. That troubled him a good deal,\nbut he never worried over what he could not help, so he got down from\nhis horse, slipped his arm through the bridle, and led the animal\nalong the rough path in hopes of discovering some shepherd's hut, or,\nat least, a cave or shelter under some rock, where he might pass the\nnight.\n\nPresently he heard the sound of rushing water, and made towards it. He\ntoiled over a steep rocky shoulder of a hill, and there, just below\nhim, was a stream dashing down a precipitous glen, and, almost beneath\nhis feet, twinkling and flickering from the level of the torrent, was\na dim light as of a lamp. Towards this light the king with his horse\nand hound made his way, sliding and stumbling down a steep, stony\npath. At the bottom the king found a narrow grassy ledge by the brink\nof the stream, across which the light from a rude lantern in the mouth\nof a cave shed a broad beam of uncertain light. At the edge of the\nstream sat an old hermit with a long white beard, who neither spoke\nnor moved as the king approached, but sat throwing into the stream\ndry leaves which lay scattered about the ground near him.\n\n'Peace be upon you,' said the king, giving the usual country\nsalutation.\n\n'And upon you peace,' answered the hermit; but still he never looked\nup, nor stopped what he was doing.\n\nFor a minute or two the king stood watching him. He noticed that the\nhermit threw two leaves in at a time, and watched them attentively.\nSometimes both were carried rapidly down by the stream; sometimes only\none leaf was carried off, and the other, after whirling slowly round\nand round on the edge of the current, would come circling back on an\neddy to the hermit's feet. At other times both leaves were held in the\nbackward eddy, and failed to reach the main current of the noisy\nstream.\n\n'What are you doing?' asked the king at last, and the hermit replied\nthat he was reading the fates of men; every one's fate, he said, was\nsettled from the beginning, and, whatever it were, there was no escape\nfrom it. The king laughed.\n\n'I care little,' he said, 'what my fate may be; but I should be\ncurious to know the fate of my little daughter.'\n\n'I cannot say,' answered the hermit.\n\n'Do you not know, then?' demanded the king.\n\n'I might know,' returned the hermit, 'but it is not always wisdom to\nknow much.'\n\nBut the king was not content with this reply, and began to press the\nold man to say what he knew, which for a long time he would not do. At\nlast, however, the king urged him so greatly that he said:\n\n'The king's daughter will marry the son of a poor slave-girl called\nPuruna, who belongs to the king of the land of the north. There is no\nescaping from Fate.'\n\nThe king was wild with anger at hearing these words, but he was also\nvery tired; so he only laughed, and answered that he hoped there would\nbe a way out of _that_ fate anyhow. Then he asked if the hermit could\nshelter him and his beasts for the night, and the hermit said 'Yes';\nso, very soon the king had watered and tethered his horse, and, after\na supper of bread and parched peas, lay down in the cave, with the\nhound at his feet, and tried to go to sleep. But instead of sleeping\nhe only lay awake and thought of the hermit's prophecy; and the more\nhe thought of it the angrier he felt, until he gnashed his teeth and\ndeclared that it should never, never come true.\n\nMorning came, and the king got up, pale and sulky, and, after learning\nfrom the hermit which path to take, was soon mounted and found his way\nhome without much difficulty. Directly he reached his palace he wrote\na letter to the king of the land of the north, begging him, as a\nfavour, to sell him his slave girl Puruna and her son, and saying\nthat, if he consented, he would send a messenger to receive them at\nthe river which divided the kingdoms.\n\nFor five days he awaited the reply, and hardly slept or ate, but was\nas cross as could be all the time. On the fifth day his messenger\nreturned with a letter to say that the king of the land of the north\nwould not sell, but he would give, the king the slave girl and her\nson. The king was overjoyed. He sent for his Grand Wazeer and told him\nthat he was going on one of his lonely expeditions, and that the\nWazeer must invent some excuse to account for his absence. Next he\ndisguised himself as an ordinary messenger, mounted a swift camel, and\nsped away to the place where the slave girl was to be handed over to\nhim. When he got there he gave the messengers who brought her a letter\nof thanks and a handsome present for their master and rewards for\nthemselves; and then without delay he took the poor woman and her tiny\nboy-baby up on to his camel and rode off to a wild desert.\n\nAfter riding for a day and a night, almost without stopping, he came\nto a great cave where he made the woman dismount, and, taking her and\nthe baby into the cave, he drew his sword and with one blow chopped\nher head off. But although his anger made him cruel enough for\nanything so dreadful, the king felt that he could not turn his great\nsword on the helpless baby, who he was sure must soon die in this\nsolitary place without its mother; so he left it in the cave where it\nwas, and, mounting his camel, rode home as fast as he could.\n\nNow, in a small village in his kingdom there lived an old widow who\nhad no children or relations of any kind. She made her living mostly\nby selling the milk of a flock of goats; but she was very, very poor,\nand not very strong, and often used to wonder how she would live if\nshe got too weak or ill to attend to her goats. Every morning she\ndrove the goats out into the desert to graze on the shrubs and bushes\nwhich grew there, and every evening they came home of themselves to be\nmilked and to be shut up safely for the night.\n\nOne evening the old woman was astonished to find that her very best\nnanny-goat returned without a drop of milk. She thought that some\nnaughty boy or girl was playing a trick upon her and had caught the\ngoat on its way home and stolen all the milk. But when evening after\nevening the goat remained almost dry she determined to find out who\nthe thief was. So the next day she followed the goats at a distance\nand watched them while they grazed. At length, in the afternoon, the\nold woman noticed this particular nanny-goat stealing off by herself\naway from the herd and she at once went after her. On and on the goat\nwalked for some way, and then disappeared into a cave in the rocks.\nThe old woman followed the goat into the cave and then, what should\nshe see but the animal giving her milk to a little boy-baby, whilst on\nthe ground near by lay the sad remains of the baby's dead mother!\nWondering and frightened, the old woman thought at last that this\nlittle baby might be a son to her in her old age, and that he would\ngrow up and in time to come be her comfort and support. So she carried\nhome the baby to her hut, and next day she took a spade to the cave\nand dug a grave where she buried the poor mother.\n\nYears passed by, and the baby grew up into a fine handsome lad, as\ndaring as he was beautiful, and as industrious as he was brave. One\nday, when the boy, whom the old woman had named Nur Mahomed, was about\nseventeen years old, he was coming from his day's work in the fields,\nwhen he saw a strange donkey eating the cabbages in the garden which\nsurrounded their little cottage. Seizing a big stick, he began to beat\nthe intruder and to drive him out of his garden. A neighbour passing\nby called out to him--'Hi! I say! why are you beating the pedlar's\ndonkey like that?'\n\n'The pedlar should keep him from eating my cabbages,' said Nur\nMahomed; 'if he comes this evening here again I'll cut off his tail\nfor him!'\n\nWhereupon he went off indoors, whistling cheerfully. It happened that\nthis neighbour was one of those people who make mischief by talking\ntoo much; so, meeting the pedlar in the 'serai,' or inn, that evening,\nhe told him what had occurred, and added: 'Yes; and the young spitfire\nsaid that if beating the donkey would not do, he would beat you also,\nand cut your nose off for a thief!'\n\nA few days later, the pedlar having moved on, two men appeared in the\nvillage inquiring who it was who had threatened to ill-treat and to\nmurder an innocent pedlar. They declared that the pedlar, in fear of\nhis life, had complained to the king; and that they had been sent to\nbring the lawless person who had said these things before the king\nhimself. Of course they soon found out about the donkey eating Nur\nMahomed's cabbages, and about the young man's hot words; but although\nthe lad assured them that he had never said anything about murdering\nanyone, they replied they were ordered to arrest him, and bring him to\ntake his trial before the king. So, in spite of his protests, and the\nwails of his mother, he was carried off, and in due time brought\nbefore the king. Of course Nur Mahomed never guessed that the\nsupposed pedlar happened to have been the king himself, although\nnobody knew it.\n\nBut as he was very angry at what he had been told, he declared that he\nwas going to make an example of this young man, and intended to teach\nhim that even poor travelling pedlars could get justice in _his_\ncountry, and be protected from such lawlessness. However, just as he\nwas going to pronounce some very heavy sentence, there was a stir in\nthe court, and up came Nur Mahomed's old mother, weeping and\nlamenting, and begging to be heard. The king ordered her to speak, and\nshe began to plead for the boy, declaring how good he was, and how he\nwas the support of her old age, and if he were put in prison she would\ndie. The king asked her who she was. She replied that she was his\nmother.\n\n'His mother?' said the king; 'you are too old, surely, to have so\nyoung a son!'\n\nThen the old woman, in her fright and distress, confessed the whole\nstory of how she found the baby, and how she rescued and brought him\nup, and ended by beseeching the king for mercy.\n\nIt is easy to guess how, as the story came out, the king looked\nblacker and blacker, and more and more grim, until at last he was half\nfainting with rage and astonishment. This, then, was the baby he had\nleft to die, after cruelly murdering his mother! Surely fate might\nhave spared him this! He wished he had sufficient excuse to put the\nboy to death, for the old hermit's prophecy came back to him as\nstrongly as ever; and yet the young man had done nothing bad enough to\ndeserve such a punishment. Everyone would call him a tyrant if he were\nto give such an order--in fact, he dared not try it!\n\nAt length he collected himself enough to say:--'If this young man will\nenlist in my army I will let him off. We have need of such as him, and\na little discipline will do him good.' Still the old woman pleaded\nthat she could not live without her son, and was nearly as terrified\nat the idea of his becoming a soldier as she was at the thought of his\nbeing put in prison. But at length the king--determined to get the\nyouth into his clutches--pacified her by promising her a pension large\nenough to keep her in comfort; and Nur Mahomed, to his own great\ndelight, was duly enrolled in the king's army.\n\nAs a soldier Nur Mahomed seemed to be in luck. He was rather\nsurprised, but much pleased, to find that he was always one of those\nchosen when any difficult or dangerous enterprise was afoot; and,\nalthough he had the narrowest escapes on some occasions, still, the\nvery desperateness of the situations in which he found himself gave\nhim special chances of displaying his courage. And as he was also\nmodest and generous, he became a favourite with his officers and his\ncomrades.\n\nThus it was not very surprising that, before very long, he became\nenrolled amongst the picked men of the king's bodyguard. The fact is,\nthat the king had hoped to have got him killed in some fight or\nanother; but, seeing that, on the contrary, he throve on hard knocks,\nhe was now determined to try more direct and desperate methods.\n\nOne day, soon after Nur Mahomed had entered the bodyguard, he was\nselected to be one of the soldiers told off to escort the king through\nthe city. The procession was marching on quite smoothly, when a man,\narmed with a dagger, rushed out of an alley straight towards the king.\nNur Mahomed, who was the nearest of the guards, threw himself in the\nway, and received the stab that had been apparently intended for the\nking. Luckily the blow was a hurried one, and the dagger glanced on\nhis breastbone, so that, although he received a severe wound, his\nyouth and strength quickly got the better of it. The king was, of\ncourse, obliged to take some notice of this brave deed, and as a\nreward made him one of his own attendants.\n\nAfter this the strange adventures the young man passed through were\nendless. Officers of the bodyguard were often sent on all sorts of\nsecret and difficult errands, and such errands had a curious way of\nbecoming necessary when Nur Mahomed was on duty. Once, while he was\ntaking a journey, a foot-bridge gave way under him; once he was\nattacked by armed robbers; a rock rolled down upon him in a mountain\npass; a heavy stone coping fell from a roof at his feet in a narrow\ncity alley. Altogether, Nur Mahomed began to think that, somewhere or\nother, he had made an enemy; but he was light-hearted, and the thought\ndid not much trouble him. He escaped somehow every time, and felt\namused rather than anxious about the next adventure.\n\nIt was the custom of that city that the officer for the day of the\npalace guards should receive all his food direct from the king's\nkitchen. One day, when Nur Mahomed's turn came to be on duty, he was\njust sitting down to a delicious stew that had been sent in from the\npalace, when one of those gaunt, hungry dogs, which, in eastern\ncountries, run about the streets, poked his nose in at the open\nguard-room door, and looked at Nur Mahomed with mouth watering and\nnostrils working. The kind-hearted young man picked out a lump of\nmeat, went to the door, and threw it outside to him. The dog pounced\nupon it, and gulped it down greedily, and was just turning to go, when\nit staggered, fell, rolled over, and died. Nur Mahomed, who had been\nlazily watching him, stood still for a moment, then he came back\nwhistling softly. He gathered up the rest of his dinner and carefully\nwrapped it up to carry away and bury somewhere; and then he sent back\nthe empty plates.\n\nHow furious the king was when, at the next morning's durbar, Nur\nMahomed appeared before him fresh, alert, and smiling as usual. He was\ndetermined, however, to try once more, and bidding the young man come\ninto his presence that evening, gave orders that he was to carry a\nsecret despatch to the governor of a distant province. 'Make your\npreparations at once,' added he, 'and be ready to start in the\nmorning. I myself will deliver you the papers at the last moment.'\n\nNow this province was four or five days' journey from the palace, and\nthe governor of it was the most faithful servant the king had. He\ncould be silent as the grave, and prided himself on his obedience.\nWhilst he was an old and tried servant of the king's, his wife had\nbeen almost a mother to the young princess ever since the queen had\ndied some years before. It happened that, a little before this time,\nthe princess had been sent away for her health to another remote\nprovince; and whilst she was there her old friend, the governor's\nwife, had begged her to come and stay with them as soon as she could.\n\nThe princess accepted gladly, and was actually staying in the\ngovernor's house at the very time when the king made up his mind to\nsend Nur Mahomed there with the mysterious despatch.\n\nAccording to orders Nur Mahomed presented himself early the next\nmorning at the king's private apartments. His best horse was saddled,\nfood placed in his saddle-bag, and with some money tied up in his\nwaistband, he was ready to start. The king handed over to him a sealed\npacket, desiring him to give it himself only into the hands of the\ngovernor, and to no one else. Nur Mahomed hid it carefully in his\nturban, swung himself into the saddle, and five minutes later rode out\nof the city gates, and set out on his long journey.\n\nThe weather was very hot; but Nur Mahomed thought that the sooner his\nprecious letter was delivered the better; so that, by dint of riding\nmost of each night and resting only in the hottest part of the day, he\nfound himself, by noon on the third day, approaching the town which\nwas his final destination.\n\nNot a soul was to be seen anywhere; and Nur Mahomed, stiff, dry,\nthirsty, and tired, looked longingly over the wall into the gardens,\nand marked the fountains, the green grass, the shady apricot orchards,\nand giant mulberry trees, and wished he were there.\n\nAt length he reached the castle gates, and was at once admitted, as he\nwas in the uniform of the king's bodyguard. The governor was resting,\nthe soldier said, and could not see him until the evening. So Nur\nMahomed handed over his horse to an attendant, and wandered down into\nthe lovely gardens he had seen from the road, and sat down in the\nshade to rest himself. He flung himself on his back and watched the\nbirds twittering and chattering in the trees above him. Through the\nbranches he could see great patches of sky where the kites wheeled and\ncircled incessantly, with shrill whistling cries. Bees buzzed over the\nflowers with a soothing sound, and in a few minutes Nur Mahomed was\nfast asleep.\n\nEvery day, through the heat of the afternoon, the governor, and his\nwife also, used to lie down for two or three hours in their own rooms,\nand so, for the matter of that, did most people in the palace. But the\nprincess, like many other girls, was restless, and preferred to wander\nabout the garden, rather than rest on a pile of soft cushions. What a\ntorment her stout old attendants and servants sometimes thought her\nwhen she insisted on staying awake, and making them chatter or do\nsomething, when they could hardly keep their eyes open! Sometimes,\nhowever, the princess would pretend to go to sleep, and then, after\nall her women had gladly followed her example, she would get up and go\nout by herself, her veil hanging loosely about her. If she was\ndiscovered her old hostess scolded her severely; but the princess only\nlaughed, and did the same thing next time.\n\n [Illustration: THE PRINCESS STEALS THE KING'S LETTER]\n\nThis very afternoon the princess had left all her women asleep, and,\nafter trying in vain to amuse herself indoors, she had slipped out\ninto the great garden, and rambled about in all her favourite nooks\nand corners, feeling quite safe as there was not a creature to be\nseen. Suddenly, on turning a corner, she stopped in surprise, for\nbefore her lay a man fast asleep! In her hurry she had almost tripped\nover him. But there he was, a young man, tanned and dusty with travel,\nin the uniform of an officer of the king's guard. One of the few\nfaults of this lovely princess was a devouring curiosity, and she\nlived such an idle life that she had plenty of time to be curious. Out\nof one of the folds of this young man's turban there peeped the corner\nof a letter! She wondered what the letter was--whom it was for! She\ndrew her veil a little closer, and stole across on tip-toe and caught\nhold of the corner of the letter. Then she pulled it a little, and\njust a little more! A great big seal came into view, which she saw to\nbe her father's, and at the sight of it she paused for a minute half\nashamed of what she was doing. But the pleasure of taking a letter\nwhich was not meant for her was more than she could resist, and in\nanother moment it was in her hand. All at once she remembered that it\nwould be death to this poor officer if he lost the letter, and that at\nall hazards she must put it back again. But this was not so easy; and,\nmoreover, the letter in her hand burnt her with longing to read it,\nand see what was inside. She examined the seal. It was sticky with\nbeing exposed to the hot sun, and with a very little effort it parted\nfrom the paper. The letter was open and she read it! And this was what\nwas written:\n\n'Behead the messenger who brings this letter secretly and at once. Ask\nno questions.'\n\nThe girl grew pale. What a shame! she thought. _She_ would not let a\nhandsome young fellow like that be beheaded; but how to prevent it was\nnot quite clear at the moment. Some plan must be invented, and she\nwished to lock herself in where no one could interrupt her, as might\neasily happen in the garden. So she crept softly to her room, and took\na piece of paper and wrote upon it: 'Marry the messenger who brings\nthis letter to the princess openly at once. Ask no questions.' And\neven contrived to work the seals off the original letter and to fix\nthem to this, so that no one could tell, unless they examined it\nclosely, that it had ever been opened. Then she slipped back, shaking\nwith fear and excitement, to where the young officer still lay\nasleep, thrust the letter into the folds of his turban, and hurried\nback to her room. It was done!\n\nLate in the afternoon Nur Mahomed woke, and, making sure that the\nprecious despatch was still safe, went off to get ready for his\naudience with the governor. As soon as he was ushered into his\npresence he took the letter from his turban and placed it in the\ngovernor's hands according to orders. When he had read it the governor\nwas certainly a little astonished; but he was told in the letter to\n'ask no questions,' and he knew how to obey orders. He sent for his\nwife and told her to get the princess ready to be married at once.\n\n'Nonsense!' said his wife, 'what in the world do you mean?'\n\n'These are the king's commands,' he answered; 'go and do as I bid you.\nThe letter says \"at once,\" and \"ask no questions.\" The marriage,\ntherefore, must take place this evening.'\n\nIn vain did his wife urge every objection; the more she argued, the\nmore determined was her husband. 'I know how to obey orders,' he said,\n'and these are as plain as the nose on my face!' So the princess was\nsummoned, and, somewhat to their surprise, she seemed to take the news\nvery calmly; next Nur Mahomed was informed, and he was greatly\nstartled, but of course he could but be delighted at the great and\nunexpected honour which he thought the king had done him. Then all the\ncastle was turned upside down; and when the news spread in the town,\n_that_ was turned upside down too. Everybody ran everywhere, and tried\nto do everything at once; and, in the middle of it all, the old\ngovernor went about with his hair standing on end, muttering something\nabout 'obeying orders.'\n\nAnd so the marriage was celebrated, and there was a great feast in the\ncastle, and another in the soldiers' barracks, and illuminations all\nover the town and in the beautiful gardens. And all the people\ndeclared that such a wonderful sight had never been seen, and talked\nabout it to the ends of their lives.\n\nThe next day the governor despatched the princess and her bridegroom\nto the king, with a troop of horsemen, splendidly dressed, and he sent\na mounted messenger on before them, with a letter giving the account\nof the marriage to the king.\n\nWhen the king got the governor's letter, he grew so red in the face\nthat everyone thought he was going to have apoplexy. They were all\nvery anxious to know what had happened, but he rushed off and locked\nhimself into a room, where he ramped and raved until he was tired.\nThen, after awhile, he began to think he had better make the best of\nit, especially as the old governor had been clever enough to send him\nback his letter, and the king was pretty sure that this was in the\nprincess's handwriting. He was fond of his daughter, and though she\nhad behaved so badly, he did not wish to cut _her_ head off, and he\ndid not want people to know the truth because it would make him look\nfoolish. In fact, the more he considered the matter, the more he felt\nthat he would be wise to put a good face on it, and to let people\nsuppose that he had really brought about the marriage of his own free\nwill.\n\nSo, when the young couple arrived, the king received them with all\nstate, and gave his son-in-law a province to govern. Nur Mahomed soon\nproved himself as able and honourable a governor as he was a brave\nsoldier; and, when the old king died, he became king in his place, and\nreigned long and happily.\n\nNur Mahomed's old mother lived for a long time in her 'son's' palace,\nand died in peace. The princess, his wife, although she had got her\nhusband by a trick, found that she could not trick _him_, and so she\nnever tried, but busied herself in teaching her children and scolding\nher maids. As for the old hermit, no trace of him was ever discovered;\nbut the cave is there, and the leaves lie thick in front of it unto\nthis day.\n\n[Told the writer by an Indian.]\n\n\n\n\n_STORY OF WALI D\u00c2D THE SIMPLE-HEARTED_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a poor old man whose name was Wali D\u00e2d\nGunjay, or Wali D\u00e2d the Bald. He had no relations, but lived all by\nhimself in a little mud hut some distance from any town, and made his\nliving by cutting grass in the jungle, and selling it as fodder for\nhorses. He only earned by this five halfpence a day; but he was a\nsimple old man, and needed so little out of it, that he saved up one\nhalfpenny daily, and spent the rest upon such food and clothing as he\nrequired.\n\nIn this way he lived for many years until, one night, he thought that\nhe would count the money he had hidden away in the great earthen pot\nunder the floor of his hut. So he set to work, and with much trouble\nhe pulled the bag out on to the floor, and sat gazing in astonishment\nat the heap of coins which tumbled out of it. What should he do with\nthem all? he wondered. But he never thought of spending the money on\nhimself, because he was content to pass the rest of his days as he had\nbeen doing for ever so long, and he really had no desire for any\ngreater comfort or luxury.\n\nAt last he threw all the money into an old sack, which he pushed under\nhis bed, and then, rolled in his ragged old blanket, he went off to\nsleep.\n\nEarly next morning he staggered off with his sack of money to the shop\nof a jeweller, whom he knew in the town, and bargained with him for a\nbeautiful little gold bracelet. With this carefully wrapped up in his\ncotton waistband he went to the house of a rich friend, who was a\ntravelling merchant, and used to wander about with his camels and\nmerchandise through many countries. Wali D\u00e2d was lucky enough to find\nhim at home, so he sat down, and after a little talk he asked the\nmerchant who was the most virtuous and beautiful lady he had ever met\nwith. The merchant replied that the princess of Khaist\u00e2n was renowned\neverywhere as well for the beauty of her person as for the kindness\nand generosity of her disposition.\n\n'Then,' said Wali D\u00e2d, 'next time you go that way, give her this\nlittle bracelet, with the respectful compliments of one who admires\nvirtue far more than he desires wealth.'\n\nWith that he pulled the bracelet from his waistband, and handed it to\nhis friend. The merchant was naturally much astonished, but said\nnothing, and made no objection to carrying out his friend's plan.\n\nTime passed by, and at length the merchant arrived in the course of\nhis travels at the capital of Khaist\u00e2n. As soon as he had opportunity\nhe presented himself at the palace, and sent in the bracelet, neatly\npacked in a little perfumed box provided by himself, giving at the\nsame time the message entrusted to him by Wali D\u00e2d.\n\nThe princess could not think who could have bestowed this present on\nher, but she bade her servant to tell the merchant that if he would\nreturn, after he had finished his business in the city, she would give\nhim her reply. In a few days, therefore, the merchant came back, and\nreceived from the princess a return present in the shape of a\ncamel-load of rich silks, besides a present of money for himself. With\nthese he set out on his journey.\n\nSome months later he got home again from his journeyings, and\nproceeded to take Wali D\u00e2d the princess's present. Great was the\nperplexity of the good man to find a camel-load of silks tumbled at\nhis door! What was he to do with these costly things? But, presently,\nafter much thought, he begged the merchant to consider whether he did\nnot know of some young prince to whom such treasures might be useful.\n\n'Of course,' cried the merchant, greatly amused; 'from Delhi to\nBaghdad, and from Constantinople to Lucknow, I know them all; and\nthere lives none worthier than the gallant and wealthy young prince of\nNekabad.'\n\n'Very well, then, take the silks to him, with the blessing of an old\nman,' said Wali D\u00e2d, much relieved to be rid of them.\n\nSo, the next time that the merchant journeyed that way he carried the\nsilks with him, and in due course arrived at Nekabad, and sought an\naudience of the prince. When he was shown into his presence he\nproduced the beautiful gift of silks that Wali D\u00e2d had sent, and\nbegged the young man to accept them as a humble tribute to his worth\nand greatness. The prince was much touched by the generosity of the\ngiver, and ordered, as a return present, twelve of the finest breed of\nhorses for which his country was famous to be delivered over to the\nmerchant, to whom also, before he took his leave, he gave a munificent\nreward for his services.\n\nAs before, the merchant at last arrived at home; and next day, he set\nout for Wali D\u00e2d's house with the twelve horses. When the old man saw\nthem coming in the distance he said to himself: 'Here's luck! a troop\nof horses coming! They are sure to want quantities of grass, and I\nshall sell all I have without having to drag it to market.' Thereupon\nhe rushed off and cut grass as fast as he could. When he got back,\nwith as much grass as he could possibly carry, he was greatly\ndiscomfited to find that the horses were all for himself. At first he\ncould not think what to do with them, but, after a little, a brilliant\nidea struck him! He gave two to the merchant, and begged him to take\nthe rest to the princess of Khaist\u00e2n, who was clearly the fittest\nperson to possess such beautiful animals.\n\nThe merchant departed, laughing. But, true to his old friend's\nrequest, he took the horses with him on his next journey, and\neventually presented them safely to the princess. This time the\nprincess sent for the merchant, and questioned him about the giver.\nNow, the merchant was usually a most honest man, but he did not quite\nlike to describe Wali D\u00e2d in his true light as an old man whose income\nwas five halfpence a day, and who had hardly clothes to cover him. So\nhe told her that his friend had heard stories of her beauty and\ngoodness, and had longed to lay the best he had at her feet. The\nprincess then took her father into her confidence, and begged him to\nadvise her what courtesy she might return to one who persisted in\nmaking her such presents.\n\n'Well,' said the king, 'you cannot refuse them; so the best thing you\ncan do is to send this unknown friend at once a present so magnificent\nthat he is not likely to be able to send you anything better, and so\nwill be ashamed to send anything at all!' Then he ordered that, in\nplace of each of the ten horses, two mules laden with silver should be\nreturned by her.\n\nThus, in a few hours, the merchant found himself in charge of a\nsplendid caravan; and he had to hire a number of armed men to defend\nit on the road against the robbers, and he was glad indeed to find\nhimself back again in Wali D\u00e2d's hut.\n\n'Well, now,' cried Wali D\u00e2d, as he viewed all the wealth laid at his\ndoor, 'I can well repay that kind prince for his magnificent present\nof horses; but to be sure you have been put to great expense! Still,\nif you will accept six mules and their loads, and will take the rest\nstraight to Nekabad, I shall thank you heartily.'\n\nThe merchant felt handsomely repaid for his trouble, and wondered\ngreatly how the matter would turn out. So he made no difficulty about\nit; and as soon as he could get things ready, he set out for Nekabad\nwith this new and princely gift.\n\nThis time the prince, too, was embarrassed, and questioned the\nmerchant closely. The merchant felt that his credit was at stake, and\nwhilst inwardly determining that he would not carry the joke any\nfurther, could not help describing Wali D\u00e2d in such glowing terms that\nthe old man would never have known himself had he heard them. The\nprince, like the king of Khaist\u00e2n, determined that he would send in\nreturn a gift that would be truly royal, and which would perhaps\nprevent the unknown giver sending him anything more. So he made up a\ncaravan of twenty splendid horses caparisoned in gold embroidered\ncloths, with fine morocco saddles and silver bridles and stirrups,\nalso twenty camels of the best breed, which had the speed of\nrace-horses, and could swing along at a trot all day without getting\ntired; and, lastly, twenty elephants, with magnificent silver howdahs\nand coverings of silk embroidered with pearls. To take care of these\nanimals the merchant hired a little army of men; and the troop made a\ngreat show as they travelled along.\n\nWhen Wali D\u00e2d from a distance saw the cloud of dust which the caravan\nmade, and the glitter of its appointments, he said to himself: 'By\nAllah! here's a grand crowd coming! Elephants, too! Grass will be\nselling well to-day!' And with that he hurried off to the jungle and\ncut grass as fast as he could. As soon as he got back he found the\ncaravan had stopped at his door, and the merchant was waiting, a\nlittle anxiously, to tell him the news and to congratulate him upon\nhis riches.\n\n'Riches!' cried Wali D\u00e2d, 'what has an old man like me with one foot\nin the grave to do with riches? That beautiful young princess, now!\nShe'd be the one to enjoy all these fine things! Do you take for\nyourself two horses, two camels, and two elephants, with all their\ntrappings, and present the rest to her.'\n\nThe merchant at first objected to these remarks, and pointed out to\nWali D\u00e2d that he was beginning to feel these embassies a little\nawkward. Of course he was himself richly repaid, so far as expenses\nwent; but still he did not like going so often, and he was getting\nnervous. At length, however, he consented to go once more, but he\npromised himself never to embark on another such enterprise.\n\nSo, after a few days' rest, the caravan started off once more for\nKhaist\u00e2n.\n\nThe moment the king of Khaist\u00e2n saw the gorgeous train of men and\nbeasts entering his palace courtyard, he was so amazed that he hurried\ndown in person to inquire about it, and became dumb when he heard that\nthese also were a present from the princely Wali D\u00e2d, and were for the\nprincess, his daughter. He went hastily off to her apartments, and\nsaid to her: 'I tell you what it is, my dear, this man wants to marry\nyou; that is the meaning of all these presents! There is nothing for\nit but that we go and pay him a visit in person. He must be a man of\nimmense wealth, and as he is so devoted to you, perhaps you might do\nworse than marry him!'\n\nThe princess agreed with all that her father said, and orders were\nissued for vast numbers of elephants and camels, and gorgeous tents\nand flags, and litters for the ladies, and horses for the men, to be\nprepared without delay, as the king and princess were going to pay a\nvisit to the great and munificent prince Wali D\u00e2d. The merchant, the\nking declared, was to guide the party.\n\nThe feelings of the poor merchant in this sore dilemma can hardly be\nimagined. Willingly would he have run away; but he was treated with so\nmuch hospitality as Wali D\u00e2d's representative, that he hardly got an\ninstant's real peace, and never any opportunity of slipping away. In\nfact, after a few days, despair possessed him to such a degree that he\nmade up his mind that all that happened was fate, and that escape was\nimpossible; but he hoped devoutly some turn of fortune would reveal to\nhim a way out of the difficulties which he had, with the best\nintentions, drawn upon himself.\n\nOn the seventh day they all started, amidst thunderous salutes from\nthe ramparts of the city, and much dust, and cheering, and blaring of\ntrumpets.\n\nDay after day they moved on, and every day the poor merchant felt more\nill and miserable. He wondered what kind of death the king would\ninvent for him, and went through almost as much torture, as he lay\nawake nearly the whole of every night thinking over the situation, as\nhe would have suffered if the king's executioners were already setting\nto work upon his neck.\n\nAt last they were only one day's march from Wali D\u00e2d's little mud\nhome. Here a great encampment was made, and the merchant was sent on\nto tell Wali D\u00e2d that the King and Princess of Khaist\u00e2n had arrived\nand were seeking an interview. When the merchant arrived he found the\npoor old man eating his evening meal of onions and dry bread, and when\nhe told him of all that had happened he had not the heart to proceed\nto load him with the reproaches which rose to his tongue. For Wali D\u00e2d\nwas overwhelmed with grief and shame for himself, for his friend, and\nfor the name and honour of the princess; and he wept and plucked at\nhis beard, and groaned most piteously. With tears he begged the\nmerchant to detain them for one day by any kind of excuse he could\nthink of, and to come in the morning to discuss what they should do.\n\nAs soon as the merchant was gone Wali D\u00e2d made up his mind that there\nwas only one honourable way out of the shame and distress that he had\ncreated by his foolishness, and that was--to kill himself. So, without\nstopping to ask any one's advice, he went off in the middle of the\nnight to a place where the river wound along at the base of steep\nrocky cliffs of great height, and determined to throw himself down and\nput an end to his life. When he got to the place he drew back a few\npaces, took a little run, and at the very edge of that dreadful black\ngulf he stopped short! He _could_ not do it!\n\nFrom below, unseen in the blackness of the deep night shadows, the\nwater roared and boiled round the jagged rocks--he could picture the\nplace as he knew it, only ten times more pitiless and forbidding in\nthe visionless darkness; the wind soughed through the gorge with\nfearsome sighs, and rustlings and whisperings, and the bushes and\ngrasses that grew in the ledges of the cliffs seemed to him like\nliving creatures that danced and beckoned, shadowy and indistinct. An\nowl laughed 'Hoo! hoo!' almost in his face, as he peered over the edge\nof the gulf, and the old man threw himself back in a perspiration of\nhorror. He was afraid! He drew back shuddering, and covering his face\nin his hands he wept aloud.\n\nPresently he was aware of a gentle radiance that shed itself before\nhim. Surely morning was not already coming to hasten and reveal his\ndisgrace! He took his hands from before his face, and saw before him\ntwo lovely beings whom his instinct told him were not mortal, but were\nPeris from Paradise.\n\n'Why do you weep, old man?' said one, in a voice as clear and musical\nas that of the bulbul.\n\n'I weep for shame,' replied he.\n\n'What do you here?' questioned the other.\n\n'I came here to die,' said Wali D\u00e2d. And as they questioned him, he\nconfessed all his story.\n\n [Illustration: WALI D\u00c2D AND THE PERIS]\n\nThen the first stepped forward and laid a hand upon his shoulder, and\nWali D\u00e2d began to feel that something strange--what, he did not\nknow--was happening to him. His old cotton rags of clothes were\nchanged to beautiful linen and embroidered cloth; on his hard, bare\nfeet were warm, soft shoes, and on his head a great jewelled turban.\nRound his neck there lay a heavy golden chain, and the little old bent\nsickle, which he cut grass with, and which hung in his waistband, had\nturned into a gorgeous scimetar, whose ivory hilt gleamed in the\npale light like snow in moonlight. As he stood wondering, like a man\nin a dream, the other peri waved her hand and bade him turn and see;\nand, lo! before him a noble gateway stood open. And up an avenue of\ngiant plane trees the peris led him, dumb with amazement. At the end\nof the avenue, on the very spot where his hut had stood, a gorgeous\npalace appeared, ablaze with myriads of lights. Its great porticoes\nand verandahs were occupied by hurrying servants, and guards paced to\nand fro and saluted him respectfully as he drew near, along mossy\nwalks and through sweeping grassy lawns where fountains were playing\nand flowers scented the air. Wali D\u00e2d stood stunned and helpless.\n\n'Fear not,' said one of the peris; 'go to your house, and learn that\nGod rewards the simple-hearted.'\n\nWith these words they both disappeared and left him. He walked on,\nthinking still that he must be dreaming. Very soon he retired to rest\nin a splendid room, far grander than anything he had ever dreamed of.\n\nWhen morning dawned he woke, and found that the palace, and himself,\nand his servants were all real, and that he was not dreaming after\nall!\n\nIf he was dumbfounded, the merchant, who was ushered into his presence\nsoon after sunrise, was much more so. He told Wali D\u00e2d that he had not\nslept all night, and by the first streak of daylight had started to\nseek out his friend. And what a search he had had! A great stretch of\nwild jungle country had, in the night, been changed into parks and\ngardens; and if it had not been for some of Wali D\u00e2d's new servants,\nwho found him and brought him to the palace, he would have fled away\nunder the impression that his trouble had sent him crazy, and that all\nhe saw was only imagination.\n\nThen Wali D\u00e2d told the merchant all that had happened. By his advice\nhe sent an invitation to the king and princess of Khaist\u00e2n to come and\nbe his guests, together with all their retinue and servants, down to\nthe very humblest in the camp.\n\nFor three nights and days a great feast was held in honour of the\nroyal guests. Every evening the king and his nobles were served on\ngolden plates and from golden cups; and the smaller people on silver\nplates and from silver cups; and each evening each guest was requested\nto keep the plates and cups that they had used as a remembrance of the\noccasion. Never had anything so splendid been seen. Besides the great\ndinners, there were sports and hunting, and dances, and amusements of\nall sorts.\n\nOn the fourth day the king of Khaist\u00e2n took his host aside, and asked\nhim whether it was true, as he had suspected, that he wished to marry\nhis daughter. But Wali D\u00e2d, after thanking him very much for the\ncompliment, said that he had never dreamed of so great an honour, and\nthat he was far too old and ugly for so fair a lady; but he begged the\nking to stay with him until he could send for the Prince of Nekabad,\nwho was a most excellent, brave, and honourable young man, and would\nsurely be delighted to try to win the hand of the beautiful princess.\n\nTo this the king agreed, and Wali D\u00e2d sent the merchant to Nekabad,\nwith a number of attendants, and with such handsome presents that the\nprince came at once, fell head over ears in love with the princess,\nand married her at Wali D\u00e2d's palace amidst a fresh outburst of\nrejoicings.\n\nAnd now the King of Khaist\u00e2n and the Prince and Princess of Nekabad,\neach went back to their own country; and Wali D\u00e2d lived to a good old\nage, befriending all who were in trouble, and preserving, in his\nprosperity, the simple-hearted and generous nature that he had when he\nwas only Wali D\u00e2d Gunjay, the grass cutter.\n\n[Told the author by an Indian.]\n\n\n\n\n_TALE OF A TORTOISE AND OF A MISCHIEVOUS MONKEY_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a country where the rivers were larger, and\nthe forests deeper, than anywhere else. Hardly any men came there, and\nthe wild creatures had it all to themselves, and used to play all\nsorts of strange games with each other. The great trees, chained one\nto the other by thick flowering plants with bright scarlet or yellow\nblossoms, were famous hiding-places for the monkeys, who could wait\nunseen, till a puma or an elephant passed by, and then jump on their\nbacks and go for a ride, swinging themselves up by the creepers when\nthey had had enough. Near the rivers huge tortoises were to be found,\nand though to our eyes a tortoise seems a dull, slow thing, it is\nwonderful to think how clever they were, and how often they outwitted\nmany of their livelier friends.\n\nThere was one tortoise in particular that always managed to get the\nbetter of everybody, and many were the tales told in the forest of his\ngreat deeds. They began when he was quite young, and tired of staying\nat home with his father and mother. He left them one day, and walked\noff in search of adventures. In a wide open space surrounded by trees\nhe met with an elephant, who was having his supper before taking his\nevening bath in the river which ran close by. 'Let us see which of us\ntwo is strongest,' said the young tortoise, marching up to the\nelephant. 'Very well,' replied the elephant, much amused at the\nimpertinence of the little creature; 'when would you like the trial to\nbe?'\n\n'In an hour's time; I have some business to do first,' answered the\ntortoise. And he hastened away as fast as his short legs would carry\nhim.\n\nIn a pool of the river a whale was resting, blowing water into the air\nand making a lovely fountain. The tortoise, however, was too young and\ntoo busy to admire such things, and he called to the whale to stop, as\nhe wanted to speak to him. 'Would you like to try which of us is the\nstronger?' said he. The whale looked at him, sent up another fountain,\nand answered: 'Oh, yes; certainly. When do you wish to begin? I am\nquite ready.'\n\n'Then give me one of your longest bones, and I will fasten it to my\nleg. When I give the signal, you must pull, and we will see which can\npull the hardest.'\n\n'Very good,' replied the whale; and he took out one of his bones and\npassed it to the tortoise.\n\nThe tortoise picked up the end of the bone in his mouth and went back\nto the elephant. 'I will fasten this to your leg,' said he, 'in the\nsame way as it is fastened to mine, and we must both pull as hard as\nwe can. We shall soon see which is the stronger.' So he wound it\ncarefully round the elephant's leg, and tied it in a firm knot. 'Now!'\ncried he, plunging into a thick bush behind him.\n\nThe whale tugged at one end, and the elephant tugged at the other, and\nneither had any idea that he had not the tortoise for his foe. When\nthe whale pulled hardest the elephant was dragged into the water; and\nwhen the elephant pulled the hardest the whale was hauled on to the\nland. They were very evenly matched, and the battle was a hard one.\n\nAt last they were quite tired, and the tortoise, who was watching, saw\nthat they could play no more. So he crept from his hiding-place, and\ndipping himself in the river, he went to the elephant and said: 'I see\nthat you really are stronger than I thought. Suppose we give it up\nfor to-day?' Then he dried himself on some moss and went to the whale\nand said: 'I see that you really are stronger than I thought. Suppose\nwe give it up for to-day?'\n\nThe two adversaries were only too glad to be allowed to rest, and\nbelieved to the end of their days that, after all, the tortoise was\nstronger than either of them.\n\nA day or two later the young tortoise was taking a stroll, when he met\na fox, and stopped to speak to him. 'Let us try,' said he in a\ncareless manner, 'which of us can lie buried in the ground during\nseven years.'\n\n'I shall be delighted,' answered the fox, 'only I would rather that\nyou began.'\n\n'It is all the same to me,' replied the tortoise; 'if you come round\nthis way to-morrow you will see that I have fulfilled my part of the\nbargain.'\n\nSo he looked about for a suitable place, and found a convenient hole\nat the foot of an orange tree. He crept into it, and the next morning\nthe fox heaped up the earth round him, and promised to feed him every\nday with fresh fruit. The fox so far kept his word that each morning\nwhen the sun rose he appeared to ask how the tortoise was getting on.\n'Oh, very well; but I wish you would give me some fruit,' replied he.\n\n'Alas! the fruit is not ripe enough yet for you to eat,' answered the\nfox, who hoped that the tortoise would die of hunger long before the\nseven years were over.\n\n'Oh dear, oh dear! I am so hungry!' cried the tortoise.\n\n'I am sure you must be; but it will be all right to-morrow,' said the\nfox, trotting off, not knowing that the oranges dropped down the\nhollow trunk, straight into the tortoise's hole, and that he had as\nmany as he could possibly eat.\n\nSo the seven years went by; and when the tortoise came out of his hole\nhe was as fat as ever.\n\nNow it was the fox's turn, and he chose his hole, and the tortoise\nheaped the earth round, promising to return every day or two with a\nnice young bird for his dinner. 'Well, how are you getting on?' he\nwould ask cheerfully when he paid his visits.\n\n'Oh, all right; only I wish you had brought a bird with you,' answered\nthe fox.\n\n'I have been so unlucky, I have never been able to catch one,' replied\nthe tortoise. 'However, I shall be more fortunate to-morrow, I am\nsure.'\n\nBut not many to-morrows after, when the tortoise arrived with his\nusual question: 'Well, how are you getting on?' he received no answer,\nfor the fox was lying in his hole quite still, dead of hunger.\n\nBy this time the tortoise was grown up, and was looked up to\nthroughout the forest as a person to be feared for his strength and\nwisdom. But he was not considered a very swift runner, until an\nadventure with a deer added to his fame.\n\nOne day, when he was basking in the sun, a stag passed by, and stopped\nfor a little conversation. 'Would you care to see which of us can run\nfastest?' asked the tortoise, after some talk. The stag thought the\nquestion so silly that he only shrugged his shoulders. 'Of course, the\nvictor would have the right to kill the other,' went on the tortoise.\n'Oh, on that condition I agree,' answered the deer; 'but I am afraid\nyou are a dead man.'\n\n'It is no use trying to frighten me,' replied the tortoise. 'But I\nshould like three days for training; then I shall be ready to start\nwhen the sun strikes on the big tree at the edge of the great\nclearing.'\n\nThe first thing the tortoise did was to call his brothers and his\ncousins together, and he posted them carefully under ferns all along\nthe line of the great clearing, making a sort of ladder which\nstretched for many miles. This done to his satisfaction, he went back\nto the starting place.\n\nThe stag was quite punctual, and as soon as the sun's rays struck the\ntrunk of the tree the stag started off, and was soon far out of the\nsight of the tortoise. Every now and then he would turn his head as he\nran, and call out: 'How are you getting on?' and the tortoise who\nhappened to be nearest at that moment would answer: 'All right, I am\nclose up to you.'\n\nFull of astonishment, the stag would redouble his efforts, but it was\nno use. Each time he asked: 'Are you there?' the answer would come:\n'Yes, of course, where else should I be?' And the stag ran, and ran,\nand ran, till he could run no more, and dropped down dead on the\ngrass.\n\nAnd the tortoise, when he thinks about it, laughs still.\n\n * * * * *\n\nBut the tortoise was not the only creature of whose tricks stories\nwere told in the forest. There was a famous monkey who was just as\nclever and more mischievous, because he was so much quicker on his\nfeet and with his hands. It was quite impossible to catch him and give\nhim the thrashing he so often deserved, for he just swung himself up\ninto a tree and laughed at the angry victim who was sitting below.\nSometimes, however, the inhabitants of the forest were so foolish as\nto provoke him, and then they got the worst of it. This was what\nhappened to the barber, whom the monkey visited one morning, saying\nthat he wished to be shaved. The barber bowed politely to his\ncustomer, and begging him to be seated, tied a large cloth round his\nneck, and rubbed his chin with soap; but instead of cutting off his\nbeard, the barber made a snip at the end of his tail. It was only a\nvery little bit, and the monkey started up more in rage than in pain.\n'Give me back the end of my tail,' he roared, 'or I will take one of\nyour razors.' The barber refused to give back the missing piece, so\nthe monkey caught up a razor from the table and ran away with it, and\nno one in the forest could be shaved for days, as there was not\nanother to be got for miles and miles.\n\nAs he was making his way to his own particular palm-tree, where the\ncocoa-nuts grew, which were so useful for pelting passers-by, he met a\nwoman who was scaling a fish with a bit of wood, for in this side of\nthe forest a few people lived in huts near the river.\n\n'That must be hard work,' said the monkey, stopping to look; 'try my\nknife--you will get on quicker.' And he handed her the razor as he\nspoke. A few days later he came back and rapped at the door of the\nhut. 'I have called for my razor,' he said, when the woman appeared.\n\n'I have lost it,' answered she.\n\n'If you don't give it to me at once I will take your sardine,' replied\nthe monkey, who did not believe her. The woman protested she had not\ngot the knife, so he took the sardine and ran off.\n\nA little further along he saw a baker who was standing at the door,\neating one of his loaves. 'That must be rather dry,' said the monkey,\n'try my fish'; and the man did not need twice telling. A few days\nlater the monkey stopped again at the baker's hut. 'I've called for\nthat fish,' he said.\n\n'That fish? But I have eaten it!' exclaimed the baker in dismay.\n\n'If you have eaten it I shall take this barrel of meal in exchange,'\nreplied the monkey; and he walked off with the barrel under his arm.\n\nAs he went he saw a woman with a group of little girls round her,\nteaching them how to dress hair. 'Here is something to make cakes for\nthe children,' he said, putting down his barrel, which by this time he\nfound rather heavy. The children were delighted, and ran directly to\nfind some flat stones to bake their cakes on, and when they had made\nand eaten them, they thought they had never tasted anything so nice.\nIndeed, when they saw the monkey approaching not long after, they\nrushed to meet him, hoping that he was bringing them some more\npresents. But he took no notice of their questions, he only said to\ntheir mother: 'I've called for my barrel of meal.'\n\n'Why, you gave it to me to make cakes of!' cried the mother.\n\n'If I can't get my barrel of meal, I shall take one of your children,'\nanswered the monkey. 'I am in want of somebody who can bake me bread\nwhen I am tired of fruit, and who knows how to make cocoa-nut cakes.'\n\n'Oh, leave me my child, and I will find you another barrel of meal,'\nwept the mother.\n\n'I don't _want_ another barrel, I want _that_ one,' answered the\nmonkey sternly. And as the woman stood wringing her hands, he caught\nup the little girl that he thought the prettiest and took her to his\nhome in the palm tree.\n\nShe never went back to the hut, but on the whole she was not much to\nbe pitied, for monkeys are nearly as good as children to play with,\nand they taught her how to swing, and to climb, and to fly from tree\nto tree, and everything else they knew, which was a great deal.\n\nNow the monkey's tiresome tricks had made him many enemies in the\nforest, but no one hated him so much as the puma. The cause of their\nquarrel was known only to themselves, but everybody was aware of the\nfact, and took care to be out of the way when there was any chance of\nthese two meeting. Often and often the puma had laid traps for the\nmonkey, which he felt sure his foe could not escape; and the monkey\nwould pretend that he saw nothing, and rejoice the hidden puma's heart\nby seeming to walk straight into the snare, when, lo! a loud laugh\nwould be heard, and the monkey's grinning face would peer out of a\nmass of creepers and disappear before his foe could reach him.\n\nThis state of things had gone on for quite a long while, when at last\nthere came a season such as the oldest parrot in the forest could\nnever remember. Instead of two or three hundred inches of rain\nfalling, which they were all accustomed to, month after month passed\nwithout a cloud, and the rivers and springs dried up, till there was\nonly one small pool left for everyone to drink from. There was not an\nanimal for miles round that did not grieve over this shocking\ncondition of affairs, not one at least except the puma. His only\nthought for years had been how to get the monkey into his power, and\nthis time he imagined his chance had really arrived. He would hide\nhimself in a thicket, and when the monkey came down to drink--and come\nhe must--the puma would spring out and seize him. Yes, on this\noccasion there could be no escape!\n\nAnd no more there would have been if the puma had had greater\npatience; but in his excitement he moved a little too soon. The\nmonkey, who was stooping to drink, heard a rustling, and turning\ncaught the gleam of two yellow, murderous eyes. With a mighty spring\nhe grasped a creeper which was hanging above him, and landed himself\non the branch of a tree; feeling the breath of the puma on his feet as\nthe animal bounded from his cover. Never had the monkey been so near\ndeath, and it was some time before he recovered enough courage to\nventure on the ground again.\n\nUp there in the shelter of the trees, he began to turn over in his\nhead plans for escaping the snares of the puma. And at length chance\nhelped him. Peeping down to the earth, he saw a man coming along the\npath carrying on his head a large gourd filled with honey.\n\nHe waited till the man was just underneath the tree, then he hung from\na bough, and caught the gourd while the man looked up wondering, for\nhe was no tree-climber. Then the monkey rubbed the honey all over him,\nand a quantity of leaves from a creeper that was hanging close by; he\nstuck them all close together into the honey, so that he looked like a\nwalking bush. This finished, he ran to the pool to see the result,\nand, quite pleased with himself, set out in search of adventures.\n\nSoon the report went through the forest that a new animal had\nappeared from no one knew where, and that when somebody had asked his\nname, the strange creature had answered that it was Jack-in-the-Green.\nThanks to this, the monkey was allowed to drink at the pool as often\nas he liked, for neither beast nor bird had the faintest notion who he\nwas. And if they made any inquiries the only answer they got was that\nthe water of which he had drunk deeply had turned his hair into\nleaves, so that they all knew what would happen in case they became\ntoo greedy.\n\nBy-and-by the great rains began again. The rivers and streams filled\nup, and there was no need for him to go back to the pool, near the\nhome of his enemy, the puma, as there was a large number of places for\nhim to choose from. So one night, when everything was still and\nsilent, and even the chattering parrots were asleep on one leg, the\nmonkey stole down softly from his perch, and washed off the honey and\nthe leaves, and came out from his bath in his own proper skin. On his\nway to breakfast he met a rabbit, and stopped for a little talk.\n\n'I am feeling rather dull,' he remarked; 'I think it would do me good\nto hunt a while. What do you say?'\n\n'Oh, I am quite willing,' answered the rabbit, proud of being spoken\nto by such a large creature. 'But the question is, what shall we\nhunt?'\n\n'There is no credit in going after an elephant or a tiger,' replied\nthe monkey stroking his chin, 'they are so big they could not possibly\nget out of your way. It shows much more skill to be able to catch a\nsmall thing that can hide itself in a moment behind a leaf. I'll tell\nyou what! Suppose I hunt butterflies, and you, serpents.'\n\nThe rabbit, who was young and without experience, was delighted with\nthis idea, and they both set out on their various ways.\n\nThe monkey quietly climbed up the nearest tree, and ate fruit most of\nthe day, but the rabbit tired himself to death poking his nose into\nevery heap of dried leaves he saw, hoping to find a serpent among\nthem. Luckily for himself the serpents were all away for the\nafternoon, at a meeting of their own, for there is nothing a serpent\nlikes so well for dinner as a nice plump rabbit. But, as it was, the\ndried leaves were all empty, and the rabbit at last fell asleep where\nhe was. Then the monkey, who had been watching him, fell down and\npulled his ears, to the rage of the rabbit, who vowed vengeance.\n\nIt was not easy to catch the monkey off his guard, and the rabbit waited\nlong before an opportunity arrived. But one day Jack-in-the-Green was\nsitting on a stone, wondering what he should do next, when the rabbit\ncrept softly behind him, and gave his tail a sharp pull. The monkey gave\na shriek of pain, and darted up into a tree, but when he saw that it was\nonly the rabbit who had dared to insult him so, he chattered so fast in\nhis anger, and looked so fierce, that the rabbit fled into the nearest\nhole, and stayed there for several days, trembling with fright.\n\nSoon after this adventure the monkey went away into another part of\nthe country, right on the outskirts of the forest, where there was a\nbeautiful garden full of oranges hanging ripe from the trees. This\ngarden was a favourite place for birds of all kinds, each hoping to\nsecure an orange for dinner, and in order to frighten the birds away\nand keep a little fruit for himself, the master had fastened a waxen\nfigure on one of the boughs.\n\nNow the monkey was as fond of oranges as any of the birds, and when he\nsaw a man standing in the tree where the largest and sweetest oranges\ngrew, he spoke to him at once. 'You man,' he said rudely, 'throw me\ndown that big orange up there, or I will throw a stone at you.' The\nwax figure took no notice of this request, so the monkey, who was\neasily made angry, picked up a stone, and flung it with all his force.\nBut instead of falling to the ground again, the stone stuck to the\nsoft wax.\n\nAt this moment a breeze shook the tree, and the orange on which the\nmonkey had set his heart dropped from the bough. He picked it up and\nate it every bit, including the rind, and it was so good he thought he\nshould like another. So he called again to the wax figure to throw him\nan orange, and as the figure did not move, he hurled another stone,\nwhich stuck to the wax as the first had done. Seeing that the man was\nquite indifferent to stones, the monkey grew more angry still, and\nclimbing the tree hastily, gave the figure a violent kick. But like\nthe two stones his leg remained stuck to the wax, and he was held\nfast. 'Let me go at once, or I will give you another kick,' he cried,\nsuiting the action to the word, and this time also his foot remained\nin the grasp of the man. Not knowing what he did, the monkey hit out,\nfirst with one hand and then with the other, and when he found that he\nwas literally bound hand and foot, he became so mad with anger and\nterror that in his struggles he fell to the ground, dragging the\nfigure after him. This freed his hands and feet, but besides the shock\nof the fall, they had tumbled into a bed of thorns, and he limped away\nbroken and bruised, and groaning loudly; for when monkeys _are_ hurt,\nthey take pains that everybody shall know it.\n\nIt was a long time before Jack was well enough to go about again; but\nwhen he did, he had an encounter with his old enemy the puma. And this\nwas how it came about.\n\nOne day the puma invited his friend the stag to go with him and see a\ncomrade, who was famous for the good milk he got from his cows. The\nstag loved milk, and gladly accepted the invitation, and when the sun\nbegan to get a little low the two started on their walk. On the way\nthey arrived on the banks of a river, and as there were no bridges in\nthose days it was necessary to swim across it. The stag was not fond\nof swimming, and began to say that he was tired, and thought that\nafter all it was not worth going so far to get milk, and that he\nwould return home. But the puma easily saw through these excuses, and\nlaughed at him.\n\n'The river is not deep at all,' he said; 'why, you will never be off\nyour feet. Come, pluck up your courage and follow me.'\n\nThe stag was afraid of the river; still, he was much more afraid of\nbeing laughed at, and he plunged in after the puma; but in an instant\nthe current had swept him away, and if it had not borne him by\naccident to a shallow place on the opposite side, where he managed to\nscramble up the bank, he would certainly have been drowned. As it was,\nhe scrambled out, shaking with terror, and found the puma waiting for\nhim. 'You had a narrow escape that time,' said the puma.\n\nAfter resting for a few minutes, to let the stag recover from his\nfright, they went on their way till they came to a grove of bananas.\n\n'They look very good,' observed the puma with a longing glance, 'and I\nam sure you must be hungry, friend stag? Suppose you were to climb the\ntree and get some. You shall eat the green ones, they are the best and\nsweetest; and you can throw the yellow ones down to me. I dare say\nthey will do quite well!' The stag did as he was bid, though, not\nbeing used to climbing, it gave him a deal of trouble and sore knees,\nand, besides, his horns were continually getting entangled in the\ncreepers. What was worse, when once he had tasted the bananas, he\nfound them not at all to his liking, so he threw them all down, green\nand yellow alike, and let the puma take his choice. And what a dinner\nhe made! When he had _quite_ done, they set forth once more.\n\nThe path lay through a field of maize, where several men were working.\nAs they came up to them, the puma whispered: 'Go on in front, friend\nstag, and just say \"Bad luck to all workers!\"' The stag obeyed, but\nthe men were hot and tired, and did not think this a good joke. So\nthey set their dogs at him, and he was obliged to run away as fast as\nhe could.\n\n'I hope your industry will be rewarded as it deserves,' said the puma\nas he passed along; and the men were pleased, and offered him some of\ntheir maize to eat.\n\nBy-and-by the puma saw a small snake with a beautiful shining skin,\nlying coiled up at the foot of a tree. 'What a lovely bracelet that\nwould make for your daughter, friend stag!' said he. The stag stooped\nand picked up the snake, which bit him, and he turned angrily to the\npuma. 'Why did you not tell me it would bite?' he asked.\n\n'Is it my fault if you are an idiot?' replied the puma.\n\nAt last they reached their journey's end, but by this time it was\nlate, and the puma's comrade was ready for bed, so they slung their\nhammocks in convenient places, and went to sleep. But in the middle of\nthe night the puma rose softly and stole out of the door to the\nsheep-fold, where he killed and ate the fattest sheep he could find,\nand taking a bowl full of its blood, he sprinkled the sleeping stag\nwith it. This done, he returned to bed.\n\nIn the morning the shepherd went as usual to let the sheep out of the\nfold, and found one of them missing. He thought directly of the puma,\nand ran to accuse him of having eaten the sheep. 'I, my good man? What\nhas put it into your head to think of such a thing? Have _I_ got any\nblood about me? If anyone has eaten a sheep it must be my friend the\nstag.' Then the shepherd went to examine the sleeping stag, and of\ncourse he saw the blood. 'Ah! I will teach you how to steal!' cried\nhe, and he hit the stag such a blow on his skull that he died in a\nmoment. The noise awakened the comrade above, and he came downstairs.\nThe puma greeted him with joy, and begged he might have some of the\nfamous milk as soon as possible, for he was very thirsty. A large\nbucket was set before the puma directly. He drank it to the last drop,\nand then took leave.\n\nOn his way home he met the monkey. 'Are you fond of milk?' asked he.\n'I know a place where you get it very nice. I will show you it if you\nlike.' The monkey knew that the puma was not so good-natured for\nnothing, but he felt quite able to take care of himself, so he said he\nshould have much pleasure in accompanying his friend.\n\nThey soon reached the same river, and, as before, the puma remarked:\n'Friend monkey, you will find it very shallow; there is no cause for\nfear. Jump in, and I will follow.'\n\n'Do you think you have the stag to deal with?' asked the monkey,\nlaughing. 'I should prefer to follow; if not I shall go no further.'\nThe puma understood that it was useless trying to make the monkey do\nas he wished, so he chose a shallow place and began to swim across.\nThe monkey waited till the puma had got to the middle, then he gave a\ngreat spring and jumped on his back, knowing quite well that the puma\nwould be afraid to shake him off, lest he should be swept away into\ndeep water. So in this manner they reached the bank.\n\nThe banana grove was not far distant, and here the puma thought he\nwould pay the monkey out for forcing him to carry him over the river.\n'Friend monkey, look what fine bananas,' cried he. 'You are fond of\nclimbing; suppose you run up and throw me down a few. You can eat the\ngreen ones, which are the nicest, and I will be content with the\nyellow.'\n\n'Very well,' answered the monkey, swinging himself up; but he ate all\nthe yellow ones himself, and only threw down the green ones that were\nleft. The puma was furious and cried out: 'I will punch your head for\nthat.' But the monkey only answered: 'If you are going to talk such\nnonsense I won't walk with you.' And the puma was silent.\n\nIn a few minutes more they arrived at the field where the men were\nreaping the maize, and the puma remarked as he had done before:\n'Friend monkey, if you wish to please these men, just say as you go\nby: \"Bad luck to all workers.\"'\n\n'Very well,' replied the monkey; but, instead, he nodded and smiled,\nand said: 'I hope your industry may be rewarded as it deserves.' The\nmen thanked him heartily, let him pass on, and the puma followed\nbehind him.\n\nFurther along the path they saw the shining snake lying on the moss.\n'What a lovely necklace for your daughter,' exclaimed the puma. 'Pick\nit up and take it with you.'\n\n'You are very kind, but I will leave it for you,' answered the monkey,\nand nothing more was said about the snake.\n\nNot long after this they reached the comrade's house, and found him\njust ready to go to bed. So, without stopping to talk, the guests\nslung their hammocks, the monkey taking care to place his so high that\nno one could get at him. Besides, he thought it would be more prudent\nnot to fall asleep, so he only lay still and snored loudly. When it\nwas quite dark and no sound was to be heard, the puma crept out to the\nsheep-fold, killed the sheep, and carried back a bowl full of its\nblood with which to sprinkle the monkey. But the monkey, who had been\nwatching him out of the corner of his eye, waited until the puma drew\nnear, and with a violent kick upset the bowl all over the puma\nhimself.\n\nWhen the puma saw what had happened, he turned in a great hurry to\nleave the house, but before he could do so, he saw the shepherd\ncoming, and hastily lay down again.\n\n'This is the second time I have lost a sheep,' the man said to the\nmonkey; 'it will be the worse for the thief when I catch him, I can\ntell you.' The monkey did not answer, but silently pointed to the puma\nwho was pretending to be asleep. The shepherd stooped and saw the\nblood, and cried out: 'Ah! so it is you, is it? then take that!' and\nwith his stick he gave the puma such a blow on the head that he died\nthen and there.\n\nThen the monkey got up and went to the dairy, and drank all the milk\nhe could find. Afterwards he returned home and married, and that is\nthe last we heard of him.\n\n[_Adapted from Folklore Br\u00e9silien._]\n\n\n\n\n_THE KNIGHTS OF THE FISH_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived an old cobbler who worked hard at his\ntrade from morning till night, and scarcely gave himself a moment to\neat. But, industrious as he was, he could hardly buy bread and cheese\nfor himself and his wife, and they grew thinner and thinner daily.\n\nFor a long while they pretended to each other that they had no\nappetite, and that a few blackberries from the hedges were a great\ndeal nicer than a good strong bowl of soup. But at length there came a\nday when the cobbler could bear it no longer, and he threw away his\nlast, and borrowing a rod from a neighbour he went out to fish.\n\nNow the cobbler was as patient about fishing as he had been about\ncobbling. From dawn to dark he stood on the banks of the little\nstream, without hooking anything better than an eel, or a few old\nshoes, that even he, clever though he was, felt were not worth\nmending. At length his patience began to give way, and as he undressed\none night he said to himself: 'Well, I will give it one more chance;\nand if I don't catch a fish to-morrow, I will go and hang myself.'\n\nHe had not cast his line for ten minutes the next morning before he\ndrew from the river the most beautiful fish he had ever seen in his\nlife. But he nearly fell into the water from surprise, when the fish\nbegan to speak to him, in a small, squeaky voice:\n\n'Take me back to your hut and cook me; then cut me up, and sprinkle me\nover with pepper and salt. Give two of the pieces to your wife, and\nbury two more in the garden.'\n\nThe cobbler did not know what to make of these strange words; but he\nwas wiser than many people, and when he did not understand, he thought\nit was well to obey. His children wanted to eat all the fish\nthemselves, and begged their father to tell them what to do with the\npieces he had put aside; but the cobbler only laughed, and told them\nit was no business of theirs. And when they were safe in bed he stole\nout and buried the two pieces in the garden.\n\n * * * * *\n\nBy and by two babies, exactly alike, lay in a cradle, and in the\ngarden were two tall plants, with two brilliant shields on the top.\n\nYears passed away, and the babies were almost men. They were tired of\nliving quietly at home, being mistaken for each other by everybody\nthey saw, and determined to set off in different directions, to seek\nadventures.\n\nSo, one fine morning, the two brothers left the hut, and walked\ntogether to the place where the great road divided. There they\nembraced and parted, promising that if anything remarkable had\nhappened to either, he would return to the cross roads and wait till\nhis brother came.\n\nThe youth who took the path that ran eastwards arrived presently at a\nlarge city, where he found everybody standing at the doors, wringing\ntheir hands and weeping bitterly.\n\n'What is the matter?' asked he, pausing and looking round. And a man\nreplied, in a faltering voice, that each year a beautiful girl was\nchosen by lot to be offered up to a dreadful fiery dragon, who had a\nmother even worse than himself, and this year the lot had fallen on\ntheir peerless princess.\n\n'But where _is_ the princess?' said the young man once more, and again\nthe man answered him: 'She is standing under a tree, a mile away,\nwaiting for the dragon.'\n\nThis time the Knight of the Fish did not stop to hear more, but ran\noff as fast as he could, and found the princess bathed in tears, and\ntrembling from head to foot.\n\nShe turned as she heard the sound of his sword, and removed her\nhandkerchief from her eyes.\n\n'Fly,' she cried; 'fly while you have yet time, before that monster\nsees you.'\n\nShe said it, and she meant it; yet, when he had turned his back, she\nfelt more forsaken than before. But in reality it was not more than a\nfew minutes before he came back, galloping furiously on a horse he had\nborrowed, and carrying a huge mirror across its neck.\n\n'I am in time, then,' he cried, dismounting very carefully, and\nplacing the mirror against the trunk of a tree.\n\n'Give me your veil,' he said hastily to the princess. And when she had\nunwound it from her head he covered the mirror with it.\n\n'The moment the dragon comes near you, you must tear off the veil,'\ncried he; 'and be sure you hide behind the mirror. Have no fear; I\nshall be at hand.'\n\nHe and his horse had scarcely found shelter amongst some rocks, when\nthe flap of the dragon's wings could be plainly heard. He tossed his\nhead with delight at the sight of her, and approached slowly to the\nplace where she stood, a little in front of the mirror. Then, still\nlooking the monster steadily in the face, she passed one hand behind\nher back and snatched off the veil, stepping swiftly behind the tree\nas she did so.\n\nThe princess had not known, when she obeyed the orders of the Knight\nof the Fish, what she expected to happen. Would the dragon with snaky\nlocks be turned to stone, she wondered, like the dragon in an old\nstory her nurse had told her; or would some fiery spark dart from the\nheart of the mirror, and strike him dead? Neither of these things\noccurred, but, instead, the dragon stopped short with surprise and\nrage when he saw a monster before him as big and strong as himself. He\nshook his mane with rage and fury; the enemy in front did exactly the\nsame. He lashed his tail, and rolled his red eyes, and the dragon\nopposite was no whit behind him. Opening his mouth to its very widest,\nhe gave an awful roar; but the other dragon only roared back. This was\ntoo much, and with another roar which made the princess shake in her\nshoes, he flung himself upon his foe. In an instant the mirror lay at\nhis feet broken into a thousand pieces, but as every piece reflected\npart of himself, the dragon thought that he too had been smashed into\natoms.\n\nIt was the moment for which the Knight of the Fish had watched and\nwaited, and before the dragon could find out that he was not hurt at\nall, the young man's lance was down his throat, and he was rolling,\ndead, on the grass.\n\nOh! what shouts of joy rang through the great city, when the youth\ncame riding back with the princess sitting behind him, and dragging\nthe horrible monster by a cord. Everybody cried out that the king must\ngive the victor the hand of the princess; and so he did, and no one\nhad ever seen such balls and feasts and sports before. And when they\nwere all over the young couple went to the palace prepared for them,\nwhich was so large that it was three miles round.\n\nThe first wet day after their marriage the bridegroom begged the bride\nto show him all the rooms in the palace, and it was so big and took so\nlong that the sun was shining brightly again before they stepped on to\nthe roof to see the view.\n\n'What castle is that out there,' asked the knight; 'it seems to be\nmade of black marble?'\n\n'It is called the castle of Albatroz,' answered the princess. 'It is\nenchanted, and no one that has tried to enter it has ever come back.'\n\n [Illustration: THE DRAGON AND THE MIRROR]\n\nHer husband said nothing, and began to talk of something else; but\nthe next morning he ordered his horse, took his spear, called his\nbloodhound, and set off for the castle.\n\nIt needed a brave man to approach it, for it made your hair stand on\nend merely to look at it; it was as dark as the night of a storm, and\nas silent as the grave. But the Knight of the Fish knew no fear, and\nhad never turned his back on an enemy; so he drew out his horn, and\nblew a blast.\n\nThe sound awoke all the sleeping echoes in the castle, and was\nrepeated now loudly, now softly; now near, and now far. But nobody\nstirred for all that.\n\n'Is there anyone inside?' cried the young man in his loudest voice;\n'anyone who will give a knight hospitality? Neither governor, nor\nsquire, not even a page?'\n\n'Not even a page!' answered the echoes. But the young man did not heed\nthem, and only struck a furious blow at the gate.\n\nThen a small grating opened, and there appeared the tip of a huge\nnose, which belonged to the ugliest old woman that ever was seen.\n\n'What do you want?' said she.\n\n'To enter,' he answered shortly. 'Can I rest here this night? Yes or\nNo?'\n\n'No, No, No!' repeated the echoes.\n\nBetween the fierce sun and his anger at being kept waiting, the Knight\nof the Fish had grown so hot that he lifted his visor, and when the\nold woman saw how handsome he was, she began fumbling with the lock of\nthe gate.\n\n'Come in, come in,' said she, 'so fine a gentleman will do us no\nharm.'\n\n'Harm!' repeated the echoes, but again the young man paid no heed.\n\n'Let us go in, ancient dame,' but she interrupted him.\n\n'You must call me the Lady Berberisca,' she answered, sharply; 'and\nthis is my castle, to which I bid you welcome. You shall live here\nwith me and be my husband.' But at these words the knight let his\nspear fall, so surprised was he.\n\n'I marry _you_? why you must be a hundred at least!' cried he. 'You\nare mad! All I desire is to inspect the castle and then go.' As he\nspoke he heard the voices give a mocking laugh; but the old woman took\nno notice, and only bade the knight follow her.\n\nOld though she was, it seemed impossible to tire her. There was no\nroom, however small, she did not lead him into, and each room was full\nof curious things he had never seen before.\n\nAt length they came to a stone staircase, which was so dark that you\ncould not see your hand if you held it up before your face.\n\n'I have kept my most precious treasure till the last,' said the old\nwoman; 'but let me go first, for the stairs are steep, and you might\neasily break your leg.' So on she went, now and then calling back to\nthe young man in the darkness. But he did not know that she had\nslipped aside into a recess, till suddenly he put his foot on a trap\ndoor which gave way under him, and he fell down, down, as many good\nknights had done before him, and his voice joined the echoes of\ntheirs.\n\n'So you would not marry me!' chuckled the old witch. 'Ha! ha! Ha! ha!'\n\n * * * * *\n\nMeanwhile his brother had wandered far and wide, and at last he\nwandered back to the same great city where the other young knight had\nmet with so many adventures. He noticed, with amazement, that as he\nwalked through the streets the guards drew themselves up in line, and\nsaluted him, and the drummers played the royal march; but he was still\nmore bewildered when several servants in livery ran up to him and told\nhim that the princess was sure something terrible had befallen him,\nand had made herself ill with weeping. At last it occurred to him that\nonce more he had been taken for his brother. 'I had better say\nnothing,' thought he; 'perhaps I shall be able to help him after all.'\n\nSo he suffered himself to be borne in triumph to the palace, where the\nprincess threw herself into his arms.\n\n'And so you did go to the castle?' she asked.\n\n'Yes, of course I did,' answered he.\n\n'And what did you see there?'\n\n'I am forbidden to tell you anything about it, until I have returned\nthere once more,' replied he.\n\n'Must you really go back to that dreadful place?' she asked wistfully.\n'You are the only man who has ever come back from it.'\n\n'I must,' was all he answered. And the princess, who was a wise woman,\nonly said: 'Well, go to bed now, for I am sure you must be very\ntired.'\n\nBut the knight shook his head. 'I have sworn never to lie in a bed as\nlong as my work in the castle remains standing.' And the princess\nagain sighed, and was silent.\n\nEarly next day the young man started for the castle, feeling sure that\nsome terrible thing must have happened to his brother.\n\nAt the blast of his horn the long nose of the old woman appeared at\nthe grating, but the moment she caught sight of his face, she nearly\nfainted from fright, as she thought it was the ghost of the youth\nwhose bones were lying in the dungeon of the castle.\n\n'Lady of all the ages,' cried the new comer, 'did you not give\nhospitality to a young knight but a short time ago?'\n\n'A short time ago!' wailed the voices.\n\n'And how have you ill-treated him?' he went on.\n\n'Ill-treated him!' answered the voices. The woman did not stop to hear\nmore; she turned to fly; but the knight's sword entered her body.\n\n'Where is my brother, cruel hag?' asked he sternly.\n\n'I will tell you,' said she; 'but as I feel that I am going to die I\nshall keep that piece of news to myself, till you have brought me to\nlife again.'\n\nThe young man laughed scornfully. 'How do you propose that I should\nwork that miracle?'\n\n'Oh, it is quite easy. Go into the garden and gather the flowers of\nthe everlasting plant and some of dragon's blood. Crush them together\nand boil them in a large tub of water, and then put me into it.'\n\nThe knight did as the old witch bade him, and, sure enough, she came\nout quite whole, but uglier than ever. She then told the young man\nwhat had become of his brother, and he went down into the dungeon, and\nbrought up his body and the bodies of the other victims who lay there,\nand when they were all washed in the magic water their strength was\nrestored to them.\n\nAnd, besides these, he found in another cavern the bodies of the girls\nwho had been sacrificed to the dragon, and brought them back to life\nalso.\n\nAs to the old witch, in the end she died of rage at seeing her prey\nescape her; and at the moment she drew her last breath the castle of\nAlbatroz fell into ruins with a great noise.\n\n[From _Cuentos, Oraciones, Adivinas recogidos por Fernan Caballaro_.]\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\nThe story 'What the Rose did to the Cypress' has a number of names\nwhich include a macron (straight line) above one or more of the\nletters. They have been replaced with a circumflex in this version of\nthe etext for ease of reading.\n\nThe note at the end of the story 'Pivi and Kabo' includes a reference\nto pp. 613-365. This should probably read 613-635, but the transcriber\nhas been unable to verify this against the source. It has therefore\nbeen preserved as printed.\n\nPunctuation errors have been repaired. Hyphenation and use of accents\nhas been made consistent within stories. Archaic spelling is preserved\nas printed.\n\nThe following typographic errors have been amended:\n\n Page 125--Neuislandischem amended to\n Neuisl\u00e4ndischen--\"[From _Neuisl\u00e4ndischen\n Volksm\u00e4rchen_.]\"\n\n Page 274--Neuisl\u00e4ndische amended to\n Neuisl\u00e4ndischen--\"[Adapted from the _Neuisl\u00e4ndischen\n Volksm\u00e4rchen_.]\"\n\n Page 345--his amended to her--\"... and removed the\n handkerchief from her eyes.\"\n\n Page 350--Adicinas amended to Adivinas--\"[From _Cuentos,\n Oraciones, Adivinas recogidos por Fernan Caballaro_.]\"\n\nThe frontispiece has been moved to follow the title page. Other\nillustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in\nthe middle of a paragraph.","title":"The Brown Fairy Book","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":98750}