Professional Documents
Culture Documents
The Olive Fairy Book
The Olive Fairy Book
Andrew Lang
1907
THE OLIVE FAIRY BOOK—Illustrated
Madschun
A Long-bow Story
Jackal or Tiger?
Dorani
PREFACE
Many years ago my friend and publisher, Mr. Charles Longman, presented me with Le Cabinet des
Fées (‘The Fairy Cabinet’). This work almost requires a swinging bookcase for its accommodation,
like the Encyclopædia Britannica, and in a revolving bookcase I bestowed the volumes.
Circumstances of an intimately domestic character, ‘not wholly unconnected,’ as Mr. Micawber
might have said, with the narrowness of my study (in which it is impossible to ‘swing a cat’),
prevent the revolving bookcase from revolving at this moment. I can see, however, that the Fairy
Cabinet contains at least forty volumes, and I think there are about sixty in all. This great plenitude
of fairy tales from all quarters presents legends of fairies, witches, genii or Djinn, monsters,
dragons, wicked step-mothers, princesses, pretty or plain, princes lucky or unlucky, giants, dwarfs,
and enchantments. The stories begin with those which children like best—the old Blue Beard, Puss
in Boots, Hop o’ my Thumb, Little Red Riding Hood, The Sleeping Beauty, and Toads and Pearls.
These were first collected, written, and printed at Paris in 1697. The author was Monsieur Charles
Perrault, a famous personage in a great perruque, who in his day wrote large volumes now unread.
He never dreamed that he was to be remembered mainly by the shabby little volume [Pg vi] with
the tiny headpiece pictures—how unlike the fairy way of drawing by Mr. Ford, said to be known as
‘Over-the-wall Ford’ among authors who play cricket, because of the force with which he swipes!
Perrault picked up the rustic tales which the nurse of his little boy used to tell, and he told them
again in his own courtly, witty way. They do not seem to have been translated into English until
nearly thirty years later, when they were published in English, with the French on the opposite page,
by a Mr. Pote, a bookseller at Eton. Probably the younger Eton boys learned as much French as they
condescended to acquire from these fairy tales, which are certainly more amusing than the
Télémaque of Messire François de Salignac de la Motte-Fénelon, tutor of the children of France,
Archbishop Duke of Cambrai, and Prince of the Holy Roman Empire.
The success of Perrault was based on the pleasure which the court of Louis XIV. took in fairy tales;
we know that they were told among Court ladies, from a letter of Madame de Sévigné. Naturally,
Perrault had imitators, such as Madame d’Aulnoy, a wandering lady of more wit than reputation. To
her we owe Beauty and the Beast and The Yellow Dwarf. Anthony Hamilton tried his hand with The
Ram, a story too prolix and confused, best remembered for the remark, ‘Ram, my friend, begin at
the beginning!’ Indeed, the narrative style of the Ram is lacking in lucidity! Then came The
Arabian Nights, translated by Monsieur Galland. Nobody has translated The Arabian Nights so well
as Galland. His is the reverse of a scientific rendering, but it is as pleasantly readable as the Iliad
and Odyssey would be if Alexandre Dumas had kept his promise to [Pg vii] translate Homer.
Galland omitted the verses and a great number of passages which nobody would miss, though the
anthropologist is supposed to find them valuable and instructive in later scientific translations which
do not amuse. Later, Persian Tales, Tales of the Sea, and original inventions, more or less on the
fairy model, were composed by industrious men and women. They are far too long—are novels,
indeed, and would please no child or mature person of taste. All these were collected in the vast
Fairy Cabinet, published in 1786, just before the Revolution. Probably their attempt to be simple
charmed a society which was extremely artificial, talked about ‘the simple life’ and the ‘state of
nature,’ and was on the eve of a revolution in which human nature revealed her most primitive traits
in orgies of blood.
That was the end of the Court and of the Court Fairy Tales, and just when they were demolished,
learned men like the Grimms and Sir Walter Scott began to take an interest in the popular tales of
peasants and savages all the world over. All the world over the tales were found to be essentially the
same things. Cinderella is everywhere; a whole book has been written on Cinderella by Miss Cox,
and a very good book it is, but not interesting to children. For them the best of the collections of
foreign fairy tales are the German stories by the Grimms, the Tales from the Norse, by Sir G. W.
Dasent, (which some foolish ‘grown-ups’ denounced as ‘improper’), and Miss Frere’s Indian
stories. There are hundreds of collections of savage and peasant fairy tales, but, though many of
these are most interesting, especially Bishop Callaway’s Zulu stories (with the Zulu versions), these
do not come in the way of parents and uncles, and therefore do [Pg viii] not come in the way of
children. It is my wish that children should be allowed to choose their own books. Let their friends
give them the money and turn them loose in the book shops! They know their own tastes, and if the
children are born bookish, while their dear parents are the reverse, (and this does occur!), then the
children make the better choice. They are unaffected in their selections; some want Shakespeares of
their own, and some prefer a volume entitled Buster Brown. A few—alas, how few!—are fond of
poetry; a still smaller number are fond of history. ‘We know that there are no fairies, but history
stories are true!’ say these little innocents. I am not so sure that there are no fairies, and I am only
too well aware that the best ‘history stories’ are not true.
What children do love is ghost stories. ‘Tell us a ghost story!’ they cry, and I am able to meet the
demand, with which I am in sincere sympathy. Only strong control prevents me from telling the last
true ghost story which I heard yesterday. It would suit children excellently well. ‘The Grey Ghost
Story Book’ would be a favourite. At a very early age I read a number of advertisements of books,
and wept because I could not buy dozens of them, and somebody gave me a book on Botany! It
looked all right, nicely bound in green cloth, but within it was full of all manner of tediousness.
In our Fairy Cabinet, which cannot extend to sixty volumes, we have aimed at pleasing children, not
‘grown-ups,’ at whom the old French writers directed their romances, but have hunted for fairy tales
in all quarters, not in Europe alone. In this volume we open, thanks to Dr. Ignaz Künos, with a story
from the Turks. ‘Little King Loc’ is an original invention by M. Anatole France, [Pg ix] which he
very kindly permitted Mrs. Lang to adapt from L’Abeille.
Major Campbell, as previously, tells tales which he collected among the natives of India. But the
sources are usually named at the end of each story, and when they are not named children will not
miss them. Mrs. Lang, except in cases mentioned, has translated and adapted to the conditions of
young readers the bulk of the collection, and Mrs. Skovgaard-Pedersen has done ‘The Green
Knight’ from the Danish. I must especially thank Monsieur Macler for permitting us to use some of
his Contes Arméniens (Paris: Ernest Leroux, Editeur).
[Pg xi]
CONTENTS
PAGE
Madschun 1
The Blue Parrot 9
Geirlaug the King’s Daughter 27
The Story of Little King Loc 43
‘A Long-bow Story’ 64
Jackal or Tiger? 71
The Comb and the Collar 87
The Thanksgiving of the Wazir 103
Samba the Coward 108
Kupti and Imani 119
The Strange Adventures of Little Maia 131
Diamond cut Diamond 144
The Green Knight 152
The Five Wise Words of the Guru 167
The Golden-headed Fish 178
Dorani 188
The Satin Surgeon 198
The Billy Goat and the King 211
The Story of Zoulvisia 216
Grasp all, Lose all 234
The Fate of the Turtle 242
[Pg xii]The Snake Prince 247
The Prince and Princess in the Forest 256
The Clever Weaver 276
The Boy who found Fear at last 279
He Wins who Waits 289
The Steel Cane 301
The Punishment of the Fairy Gangana 305
The Silent Princess 318
[Pg xiii]
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
COLOURED PLATES
The Blue Parrot Frontisp
‘Stay here and you shall be King’ To face p
The Princess and the Wolves in the Forest ”
The Boy in the Valley ”
The Ascent of the Crystal Tower ”
‘Queen of Snakes, give me back my Husband’ ”
The Sea-maiden with a wicked Face ”
The Princess chooses ”
PLATES
Ismenor brings Lino to Riquette To face p
The Magician’s Wife whistles to the Parrot ”
The Dragon Discomfited ”
‘Will you lend me your ox, fair maiden?’ ”
Abeille finds herself among the Little Men ”
King Loc carries Abeille away from her Mother ”
The Bunniah’s Story ”
‘Quick! prince! quick! the time is flying, comb me at once’ ”
Samba found skulking by his Wife ”
[Pg xiv]The Princess changes Clothes with the Goose-girl ”
‘What think you, O mortal, of my fair and lovely wife?’ ”
The Prince has pity on the Gold-headed Fish ”
‘He never could persuade her to say a single word.’ ”
The Princess gets her Letter ”
‘I accept your challenge. Mount and follow me. I am Zoulvisia.’ ”
The Witch and her Snakes ”
The Princess of Arabia released from the Iron Pillar ”
The Boy secures the Bracelet ”
Blind Rage filled the Heart of the Watcher ”
‘The Seven Veils fell from her’ ”
ILLUSTRATIONS IN TEXT
PAGE
Love at first sight 2
How the Birds were brought to the Sultan 5
The Swallow brings the Note to Lino 18
Pull as He might, He could not get free 37
‘Is this the Man that You wish to Marry?’ 62
The Farmer finds the Queen weeping by the Palanquin 73
The Unlucky Shot 75
Ameer Ali wins the Anklet 78
The Princess saves the White Fox 100
Imani attends to the Crippled Fakir 121
Imani listens to what the Monkeys say 127
Maia carried off by the Cockchafer 135
[Pg xv]Maia and the Spiders in the Evening 141
He helped her to jump from the Swallow’s back 142
The Poisoned Nail 159
The Invisible Prince goes with the Ladies 194
The King laughs at the Billygoat 213
Suddenly the Tree rose up again and flew away 240
The Snake Prince visits his Wife 251
The Robber-chief catches the Queen 259
The Hawk flies away with the Lamp 271
The Silent Princess speaks at last 327
[Pg 1]
MADSCHUN
Once upon a time there lived, in a small cottage among some hills, a woman with her son, and, to
her great grief, the young man, though hardly more than twenty years of age, had not as much hair
on his head as a baby. But, old as he looked, the youth was very idle, and whatever trade his mother
put him to he refused to work, and in a few days always came home again.
On a fine summer morning he was lying as usual half asleep in the little garden in front of the
cottage when the sultan’s daughter came riding by, followed by a number of gaily dressed ladies.
The youth lazily raised himself on his elbow to look at her, and that one glance changed his whole
nature.
‘I will marry her and nobody else,’ he thought. And jumping up, he went to find his mother.
‘You must go at once to the sultan, and tell him that I want his daughter for my wife,’ he said.
‘What?’ shouted the old woman, shrinking back into a corner, for nothing but sudden madness
could explain such an amazing errand.
‘Don’t you understand? You must go at once to the sultan and tell him that I want his daughter for
my wife,’ repeated the youth impatiently.
‘But—but, do you know what you are saying?’ stammered the mother. ‘You will learn no trade, and
have only the five gold pieces left you by your father, and can you really expect that the sultan
would give his daughter to a penniless bald-pate like you?’
[Pg 2] ‘That is my affair; do as I bid you.’ And neither day nor night did her son cease tormenting
her, till, in despair, she put on her best clothes, and wrapped her veil about her, and went over the
hill to the palace.
It was the day that the sultan set apart for hearing the complaints and petitions of his people, so the
woman found no difficulty in gaining admission to his presence.
‘Do not think me mad, O Excellency,’ she began, ‘though I know I must seem like it. But I have a
son who, since his eyes have rested on the veiled face of the princess, has not left me in peace day
or night till I consented to come to the palace, and to ask your Excellency for your daughter’s hand.
It was in vain I answered that my head might pay the forfeit of my boldness, he would [Pg 3] listen
to nothing. Therefore am I here; do with me even as you will!’
Now the sultan always loved anything out of the common, and this situation was new indeed. So,
instead of ordering the trembling creature to be flogged or cast into prison, as some other sovereigns
might have done, he merely said: ‘Bid your son come hither.’
The old woman stared in astonishment at such a reply. But when the sultan repeated his words even
more gently than before, and did not look in anywise angered, she took courage, and bowing again
she hastened homeward.
‘Well, how have you sped?’ asked her son eagerly as she crossed the threshold.
‘You are to go up to the palace without delay, and speak to the sultan himself,’ replied the mother.
And when he heard the good news, his face lightened up so wonderfully that his mother thought
what a pity it was that he had no hair, as then he would be quite handsome.
‘Ah, the lightning will not fly more swiftly,’ cried he. And in another instant he was out of her sight.
When the sultan beheld the bald head of his daughter’s wooer, he no longer felt in the mood for
joking, and resolved that he must somehow or other shake himself free of such an unwelcome lover.
But as he had summoned the young man to the palace, he could hardly dismiss him without a
reason, so he hastily said:
‘I hear you wish to marry my daughter? Well and good. But the man who is to be her husband must
first collect all the birds in the world, and bring them into the gardens of the palace; for hitherto no
birds have made their homes in the trees.’
The young man was filled with despair at the sultan’s words. How was he to snare all these birds?
and even if he did succeed in catching them it would take years to carry them to the palace! Still, he
was too proud to let the sultan think that he had given up the princess without [Pg 4] a struggle, so
he took a road that led past the palace and walked on, not noticing whither he went.
In this manner a week slipped by, and at length he found himself crossing a desert with great rocks
scattered here and there. In the shadow cast by one of these was seated a holy man or dervish, as he
was called, who motioned to the youth to sit beside him.
‘Something is troubling you, my son,’ said the holy man; ‘tell me what it is, as I may be able to help
you.’
‘O, my father,’ answered the youth, ‘I wish to marry the princess of my country; but the sultan
refuses to give her to me unless I can collect all the birds in the world and bring them into his
garden. And how can I, or any other man, do that?’
‘Do not despair,’ replied the dervish, ‘it is not so difficult as it sounds. Two days’ journey from here,
in the path of the setting sun, there stands a cypress tree, larger than any other cypress that grows
upon the earth. Sit down where the shadow is darkest, close to the trunk, and keep very still. By-
and-by you will hear a mighty rushing of wings, and all the birds in the world will come and nestle
in the branches. Be careful not to make a sound till everything is quiet again, and then say
“Madschun!” At that the birds will be forced to remain where they are—not one can move from its
perch; and you will be able to place them all over your head and arms and body, and in this way you
must carry them to the sultan.’
With a glad heart the young man thanked the dervish, and paid such close heed to his directions
that, a few days later, a strange figure covered with soft feathers walked into the presence of the
sultan. The princess’s father was filled with surprise, for never had he seen such a sight before. Oh!
how lovely were those little bodies, and bright frightened eyes! Soon a gentle stirring was heard,
and what a multitude of wings unfolded themselves: blue wings, yellow wings, red wings, green
wings. [Pg 5] And when the young man whispered ‘Go,’ they first flew in circles round the sultan’s
head, and then disappeared through the open window, to choose homes in the garden.
‘I have done your bidding, O Sultan, and now give me the princess,’ said the youth. And the sultan
answered hurriedly:
‘Yes! oh, yes! you have pleased me well! Only one thing remains to turn you into a husband that
any girl might desire. That head of yours, you know—it is so [Pg 6] very bald! Get it covered with
nice thick curly hair, and then I will give you my daughter. You are so clever that I am sure this will
give you no trouble at all.’
Silently the young man listened to the sultan’s words, and silently he sat in his mother’s kitchen for
many days to come, till, one morning, the news reached him that the sultan had betrothed his
daughter to the son of the wizir, and that the wedding was to be celebrated without delay in the
palace. With that he arose in wrath, and made his way quickly and secretly to a side door, used only
by the workmen who kept the building in repair, and, unseen by anyone, he made his way into the
mosque, and then entered the palace by a gallery which opened straight into the great hall. Here the
bride and bridegroom and two or three friends were assembled, waiting for the appearance of the
sultan for the contract to be signed.
‘Madschun!’ whispered the youth from above. And instantly everyone remained rooted to the
ground; and some messengers whom the sultan had sent to see that all was ready shared the same
fate.
At length, angry and impatient, the sultan went down to behold with his own eyes what had
happened, but as nobody could give him any explanation, he bade one of his attendants to fetch a
magician, who dwelt near one of the city gates, to remove the spell which had been cast by some
evil genius.
‘It is your own fault,’ said the magician, when he had heard the sultan’s story. ‘If you had not
broken your promise to the young man, your daughter would not have had this ill befall her. Now
there is only one remedy, and the bridegroom you have chosen must yield his place to the bald-
headed youth.’
Sore though he was in his heart, the sultan knew that the magician was wiser than he, and
despatched his most trusted servants to seek out the young man without a moment’s delay and bring
him to the palace. The youth, who all this time had been hiding behind a pillar, smiled [Pg 7] to
himself when he heard these words, and, hastening home, he said to his mother: ‘If messengers
from the sultan should come here and ask for me, be sure you answer that it is a long while since I
went away, and that you cannot tell where I may be, but that if they will give you money enough for
your journey, as you are very poor, you will do your best to find me.’ Then he hid himself in the loft
above, so that he could listen to all that passed.
The next minute someone knocked loudly at the door, and the old woman jumped up and opened it.
‘Is your bald-headed son here?’ asked the man outside. ‘If so, let him come with me, as the sultan
wishes to speak with him directly.’
‘Alas! sir,’ replied the woman, putting a corner of her veil to her eyes, ‘he left me long since, and
since that day no news of him has reached me.’
‘Oh! good lady, can you not guess where he may be? The sultan intends to bestow on him the hand
of his daughter, and he is certain to give a large reward to the man who brings him back.’
‘He never told me whither he was going,’ answered the crone, shaking her head. ‘But it is a great
honour that the sultan does him, and well worth some trouble. There are places where, perhaps, he
may be found, but they are known to me only, and I am a poor woman and have no money for the
journey.’
‘Oh! that will not stand in the way,’ cried the man. ‘In this purse are a thousand gold pieces; spend
them freely. Tell me where I can find him and you shall have as many more.’
‘Very well,’ said she, ‘it is a bargain; and now farewell, for I must make some preparations; but in a
few days at furthest you shall hear from me.’
For nearly a week both the old woman and her son were careful not to leave the house till it was
dark, lest they should be seen by any of the neighbours, and as they did not even kindle a fire or
light a lantern, everyone supposed [Pg 8] that the cottage was deserted. At length one fine morning,
the young man got up early and dressed himself, and put on his best turban, and after a hasty
breakfast took the road to the palace.
The huge negro before the door evidently expected him, for without a word he let him pass, and
another attendant who was waiting inside conducted him straight into the presence of the sultan,
who welcomed him gladly.
‘Ah, my son! where have you hidden yourself all this time?’ said he. And the bald-headed man
answered:
‘Oh, Sultan! Fairly I won your daughter, but you broke your word, and would not give her to me.
Then my home grew hateful to me, and I set out to wander through the world! But now that you
have repented of your ill-faith, I have come to claim the wife who is mine of right. Therefore bid
your wizir prepare the contract.’
So a fresh contract was prepared, and at the wish of the new bridegroom was signed by the sultan
and the wizir in the chamber where they met. After this was done, the youth begged the sultan to
lead him to the princess, and together they entered the big hall, where everyone was standing
exactly as they were when the young man had uttered the fatal word.
‘Can you remove the spell?’ asked the sultan anxiously.
‘I think so,’ replied the young man (who, to say the truth, was a little anxious himself), and stepping
forward, he cried:
‘Let the victims of Madschun be free!’
No sooner were the words uttered than the statues returned to life, and the bride placed her hand
joyfully in that of her new bridegroom. As for the old one, he vanished completely, and no one ever
knew what became of him.
(Adapted from Türkische Volksmärchen aus Stambul. Dr. Ignaz Künos. E. J. Brill, Leiden.)
[Pg 9]
Unluckily for Lino, he had for his neighbour on the other side a powerful magician named Ismenor,
who was king of the Isle of Lions, and the father of a hideous daughter, whom he thought the most
beautiful creature that ever existed. Riquette, for such was her name, had [Pg 11] also fallen in love
with a portrait, but it was of King Lino, and she implored her father to give him to her for a
husband. Ismenor, who considered that no man lived who was worthy of his treasure, was about to
send his chief minister to King Lino on this mission, when the news reached him that the king had
already started for the court of the Swan fairy. Riquette was thrown into transports of grief, and
implored her father to prevent the marriage, which Ismenor promised to do; and calling for an ugly
and humpbacked little dwarf named Rabot, he performed some spells which transported them
quickly to a rocky valley through which the king and his escort were bound to pass. When the tramp
of horses was heard, the magician took out an enchanted handkerchief, which rendered invisible any
one who touched it. Giving one end to Rabot, and holding the other himself, they walked unseen
amongst the horsemen, but not a trace of Lino was to be found. And this was natural enough,
because the king, tired out with the excitement and fatigue of the last few days, had bidden the
heavy coaches, laden with presents for the princess, to go forwards, while he rested under the palms
with a few of his friends. Here Ismenor beheld them, all sound asleep; and casting a spell which
prevented their waking till he wished them to do so, he stripped the king of all his clothes and
dressed him in those of Rabot, whom he touched with his ring, saying:
‘Take the shape of Lino until you have wedded the daughter of the Swan fairy.’
And so great was the magician’s power that Rabot positively believed himself to be really the king!
When the groom had mounted Lino’s horse, and had ridden out of sight, Ismenor aroused the king,
who stared with astonishment at the dirty garments in which he was dressed; but before he had time
to look about him, the magician caught him up in a cloud, and carried him off to his daughter.
[Pg 12] Meantime Rabot had come up with the others, who never guessed for a moment that he was
not their own master.
‘I am hungry,’ said he, ‘give me something to eat at once.’
‘May it please your majesty,’ answered the steward, ‘the tents are not even set up, and it will be at
least an hour before your supper is served! We thought——’
‘Who taught you to think?’ interrupted the false king rudely. ‘You are nothing but a fool! Get me
some horse’s flesh directly—it is the best meat in the world!’
The steward could hardly believe his ears. King Lino, the most polite man under the sun, to speak to
his faithful servant in such a manner! And to want horse’s flesh too! Why he was so delicate in his
appetite that he lived mostly on fruit and cakes. Well, well, there was no knowing what people
would come to; and, anyhow, he must obey at once, if he wished to keep his head on his shoulders.
Perhaps, after all, it was love which had driven him mad, and, if so, by-and-by he might come right
again.
Whatever excuses his old servants might invent for their master, by the time the procession reached
the Swan’s fairy capital there were no more horses left, and they were forced to walk up to the
palace on foot. Hiding their surprise as best they could, they begged the king to follow them,
dismounting from their own horses, as he, they supposed, preferred to walk. They soon perceived
the Swan fairy and her daughter awaiting them on a low balcony, under which the king stopped.
‘Madam,’ he said, ‘you may be surprised that I have come to ask your daughter’s hand in so
unceremonious a fashion; but the journey is long, and I was hungry and ate my horse, which is the
best meat in the world; and I forced my courtiers to eat theirs also. But for all that I am a great king,
and wish to be your son-in-law. And now that is settled, where is Hermosa?’
[Pg 13]
[Pg 15] ‘Sire,’ answered the queen, not a little displeased as well as amazed at the king’s manner,
which was so different from anything she had been led to expect. ‘You possess my daughter’s
portrait, and it can have made but little impression on you if you don’t recognise her at once.’
‘I don’t remember any portrait,’ replied Rabot; ‘but perhaps it may be in my pocket after all.’ And
he searched everywhere, while the ladies-in-waiting looked on with astonishment, but of course
found nothing. When he had finished he turned to the princess, who stood there blushing and angry,
and said:
‘If it is you whom I have come to marry, I think you are very beautiful, and I am sure if I had even
seen your portrait I should have remembered it. Let us have the wedding as soon as possible; and,
meantime, I should like to go to sleep, for your country is very different from mine, and I can assure
you that after walking over stones and sand for days and days one needs a little rest.’
And without waiting for a reply he bade one of the pages conduct him to his room, where he was
soon snoring so loud that he could be heard at the other end of the town.
As soon as he was out of their sight the poor princess flung herself into her mother’s arms, and burst
into tears. For fifteen days she had had King Lino’s portrait constantly before her, while the letter
from their own ambassador speaking of the young man’s grace and charm had never left her pocket.
True, the portrait was faithful enough, but how could that fair outside contain so rough and rude a
soul? Yet this even she might have forgiven had the king shown any of the signs of love and
admiration to which she had been so long accustomed. As for her mother, the poor Swan fairy was
so bewildered at the extraordinary manners of her new son-in-law, that she was almost speechless.
Matters were in this state when King Lino’s chamberlain [Pg 16] begged for a private audience of
her majesty, and no sooner were they alone than he told her that he feared that his master had
suddenly gone mad, or had fallen under the spell of some magician.
‘I had been lost in astonishment before,’ said he, ‘but now that he has failed to recognise the
princess, and no longer possesses her portrait, which he never would part from for a single instant,
my amazement knows no bounds. Perhaps, madam, your fairy gifts may be able to discover the
reason of this change in one whose courtesy was the talk of the kingdom.’ And with a low bow he
took his departure.
The queen stood where the chamberlain left her, thinking deeply. Suddenly her face cleared, and
going to an old chest which she kept in a secret room, she drew from it a small mirror. In this mirror
she could see faithfully reflected whatever she wished, and at this moment she desired above all
things to behold King Lino as he really was.
Ah! the chamberlain was right! It was not he who was lying on his bed snoring till the whole palace
shook beneath him. No, this was her real son-in-law—the man dressed in dirty clothes, and
imprisoned in one of Ismenor’s strongest towers, and kissing the portrait of Hermosa, which had
escaped the wizard’s notice, owing to the young king having worn it, for better concealment, tied
amongst his hair. Calling hastily to her daughter, she bade her also look, and Hermosa had the
pleasure of gazing on Lino, who was behaving exactly as she could have wished. The mirror was
still in her hand when the door of the prison opened, and there entered the hideous Riquette, who,
from her upraised eyes, seemed to be begging from Lino some favour which he refused to grant. Of
course Hermosa and her mother could not hear their words, but from Riquette’s angry face as she
left the room, it was not difficult to guess what had happened. But the mirror had more to tell, for it
appeared that in fury at her [Pg 17] rejection by the king, Riquette had ordered four strong men to
scourge him till he fainted, which was done in the sight of Hermosa, who in horror dropped the
mirror, and would have fallen, had she not been caught by her mother.
‘Control yourself, my child,’ said the fairy. ‘We have need of all our wits if we are to rescue the
king from the power of those wicked people. And first it is necessary to know who the man that has
taken his name and his face really is.’
Then, picking up the mirror, she wished that she might behold the false lover; and the glass gave
back a vision of a dirty, greasy groom, lying, dressed as he was, on her bed of state.
‘So this is the trick Ismenor hoped to play us! Well, we will have our revenge, whatever it costs us
to get it. Only we must be very careful not to let him guess that he has not deceived us, for his skill
in magic is greater than mine, and I shall have to be very prudent. To begin with, I must leave you,
and if the false king asks why, then answer that I have to settle some affairs on the borders of my
kingdom. Meanwhile, be sure you treat him most politely, and arrange fêtes to amuse him. If he
shows any sign of being suspicious, you can even give him to understand that, on your marriage, I
intend to give up the crown to your husband. And now farewell!’ So saying, the Swan fairy waved
her hand, and a cloud came down and concealed her, and nobody imagined that the beautiful white
cloud that was blown so rapidly across the sky was the chariot that was carrying the Swan fairy to
the tower of Ismenor.
Now the tower was situated in the midst of a forest, so the queen thought that, under cover of the
dark trees, it would be quite easy for her to drop to earth unseen. But the tower was so thoroughly
enchanted that the more she tried to reach the ground the tighter something [Pg 18] tried to hold her
back. At length, by putting forth all the power she possessed, she managed to descend to the foot of
the tower, and there, weak and faint as she was with her exertions, she lost no time in working her
spells, and found that she could only overcome Ismenor by means of a stone from the ring of
Gyges. But how was she to get this ring? for the magic book told her that Ismenor guarded it night
and day among his most precious treasures. However, get it she must, and in the meantime the first
step was to see the royal prisoner himself. So, drawing out her tablets, she wrote as follows:
‘The bird which brings you this letter is the Swan fairy, mother of Hermosa, who loves you as much
as you love her!’ And after this assurance, she related the wicked plot of which he had been the
victim. Then, quickly changing herself into a swallow, she began to fly round [Pg 19] the tower, till
she discovered the window of Lino’s prison. It was so high up that bars seemed needless, especially
as four soldiers were stationed in the passage outside, therefore the fairy was able to enter, and even
to hop on his shoulder, but he was so much occupied with gazing at the princess’s portrait that it
was some time before she could attract his attention. At last she gently scratched his cheek with the
corner of the note, and he looked round with a start. On perceiving the swallow he knew at once
that help had come, and tearing open the letter, he wept with joy on seeing the words it contained,
and asked a thousand questions as to Hermosa, which the swallow was unable to answer, though, by
repeated nods, she signed to him to read further. ‘Must I indeed pretend to wish to marry that
horrible Riquette?’ he cried, when he had finished. ‘Can I obtain the stone from the magician?’
Accordingly the next morning, when Riquette paid him her daily visit, he received her much more
graciously than usual. The magician’s daughter could not contain her delight at this change, and in
answer to her expressions of joy, Lino told her that he had had a dream by which he had learned the
inconstancy of Hermosa; also that a fairy had appeared and informed him that if he wished to break
the bonds which bound him to the faithless princess and transfer his affections to the daughter of
Ismenor, he must have in his possession for a day and a night a stone from the ring of Gyges, now
in the possession of the magician. This news so enchanted Riquette, that she flung her arms round
the king’s neck and embraced him tenderly, greatly to his disgust, as he would infinitely have
preferred the sticks of the soldiers. However, there was no help for it, and he did his best to seem
pleased, till Riquette relieved him by announcing that she must lose no time in asking her father and
obtaining from him the precious stone.
His daughter’s request came as a great surprise to Ismenor, [Pg 20] whose suspicions were instantly
excited; but, think as he would, he could not see any means by which the king, so closely guarded,
might have held communication with the Swan fairy. Still, he would do nothing hastily, and, hiding
his dismay, he told Riquette that his only wish was to make her happy, and that as she wished so
much for the stone he would fetch it for her. Then he went into the closet where all his spells were
worked, and in a short time he discovered that his enemy the Swan fairy was at that moment inside
his palace.
‘So that is it!’ he said, smiling grimly. ‘Well, she shall have a stone by all means, but a stone that
will turn everyone who touches it into marble.’ And placing a small ruby in a box, he returned to his
daughter.
‘Here is the talisman which will gain you the love of King Lino,’ he said; ‘but be sure you give him
the box unopened, or else the stone will lose all its virtue.’ With a cry of joy Riquette snatched the
box from his hands, and ran off to the prison, followed by her father, who, holding tightly the
enchanted handkerchief, was able, unseen, to watch the working of the spell. As he expected, at the
foot of the tower stood the Swan fairy, who had had the imprudence to appear in her natural shape,
waiting for the stone which the prince was to throw to her. Eagerly she caught the box as it fell from
the prince’s hands, but no sooner had her fingers touched the ruby, than a curious hardening came
over her, her limbs stiffened, and her tongue could hardly utter the words ‘We are betrayed.’
‘Yes, you are betrayed,’ cried Ismenor, in a terrible voice; ‘and you,’ he continued, dragging the
king to the window, ‘you shall turn into a parrot, and a parrot you will remain until you can
persuade Hermosa to crush in your head.’
He had hardly finished before a blue parrot flew out into the forest; and the magician, mounting in
his winged chariot, set off for the Isle of Swans, where he changed [Pg 21] everybody into statues,
exactly in the positions in which he found them, not even excepting Rabot himself. Only Hermosa
was spared, and her he ordered to get into his chariot beside him. In a few minutes he reached the
Forest of Wonders, when the magician got down, and dragged the unhappy princess out after him.
‘I have changed your mother into a stone, and your lover into a parrot,’ said he, ‘and you are to
become a tree, and a tree you will remain until you have crushed the head of the person you love
best in the world. But I will leave you your mind and memory, that your tortures may be increased a
thousand-fold.’
Great magician as he was, Ismenor could not have invented a more terrible fate had he tried for a
hundred years. The hours passed wearily by for the poor princess, who longed for a wood-cutter’s
axe to put an end to her misery. How were they to be delivered from their doom? And even
supposing that King Lino did fly that way, there were thousands of blue parrots in the forest, and
how was she to know him, or he her? As to her mother—ah! that was too bad to think about! So,
being a woman, she kept on thinking.
Meanwhile the blue parrot flew about the world, making friends wherever he went, till, one day, he
entered the castle of an old wizard who had just married a beautiful young wife. Grenadine, for such
was her name, led a very dull life, and was delighted to have a playfellow, so she gave him a golden
cage to sleep in, and delicious fruits to eat. Only in one way did he disappoint her—he never would
talk as other parrots did.
‘If you only knew how happy it would make me, I’m sure you would try,’ she was fond of saying;
but the parrot did not seem to hear her.
One morning, however, she left the room to gather some flowers, and the parrot, finding himself
alone, hopped to the table, and, picking up a pencil, wrote [Pg 22] some verses on a piece of paper.
He had just finished when he was startled by a noise, and letting fall the pencil, he flew out of the
window.
Now hardly had he dropped the pencil when the wizard lifted a corner of the curtain which hung
over the doorway, and advanced into the room. Seeing a paper on the table, he picked it up, and
great was his surprise as he read:
‘Fair princess, to win your grace, I will hold discourse with you; Silence, though, were more in
place Than chatt’ring like a cockatoo.’
‘I half suspected it was enchanted,’ murmured the wizard to himself. And he fetched his books and
searched them, and found that instead of being a parrot, the bird was really a king who had fallen
under the wrath of a magician, and that magician the man whom the wizard hated most in the world.
Eagerly he read on, seeking for some means of breaking the enchantment, and at last, to his great
joy, he discovered the remedy. Then he hurried to his wife, who was lying on some cushions under
the tree on which the parrot had perched, and informed her that her favourite was really the king of
a great country, and that, if she would whistle for the bird, they would all go together to a certain
spot in the Forest of Marvels, ‘where I will restore him to his own shape. Only you must not be
afraid or cry out, whatever I do,’ added he, ‘or everything will be spoilt.’ The wizard’s wife jumped
up in an instant, so delighted was she, and began to whistle the song that the parrot loved; but as he
did not wish it to be known that he had been listening to the conversation he waited until she had
turned her back, when he flew down the tree and alighted on her shoulder. Then they got into a
golden boat, which carried them to a clearing in the forest, where three tall trees stood by
themselves.
[Pg 23]
[Pg 25] ‘I want these trees for my magic fire,’ he said to his wife; ‘put the parrot on that branch, he
will be quite safe, and go yourself to a little distance. If you stay too near you may get your head
crushed in their fall.’
At these words the parrot suddenly remembered the prophecy of Ismenor, and held himself ready,
his heart beating at the thought that in one of those trees he beheld Hermosa. Meanwhile the
magician took a spade, and loosened the earth of the roots of the three trees so that they might fall
all together. Directly the parrot observed them totter he spread his wings and flew right under the
middle one, which was the most beautiful of the three. There was a crash, then Lino and Hermosa
stood facing each other, clasped hand in hand.
After the first few moments, the princess’s thoughts turned to her mother, and falling at the feet of
the magician, who was smiling with delight at the success of his plan, she implored him to help
them once more, and to give the Swan fairy back her proper shape.
‘That is not so easy,’ said he, ‘but I will try what I can do.’ And transporting himself to his palace to
obtain a little bottle of poisoned water, he waited till nightfall, and started at once for Ismenor’s
tower. Of course, had Ismenor consulted his books he would have seen what his enemy was doing,
he might have protected himself; but he had been eating and drinking too much, and had gone to
bed, sleeping heavily. Changing himself into a bat, the magician flew into the room, and hiding
himself in the curtains, he poured all the liquid over Ismenor’s face, so that he died without a groan.
At the same instant the Swan fairy became a woman again, for no magician, however powerful, can
work spells which last beyond his own life.
So when the Swan fairy returned to her capital she found all her courtiers waiting at the gate to
receive her, and in their midst, beaming with happiness, Hermosa and King Lino. Standing behind
them, though a long way off, [Pg 26] was Rabot; but his dirty clothes had given place to clean ones,
when his earnest desire was granted, and the princess had made him head of her stables.
And here we must bid them all farewell, feeling sure they will have many years of happiness before
them after the terrible trials through which they have passed.
(Adapted and shortened from Le Cabinet des Fées.)
[Pg 27]
For three hours Geirlaug waited in the spot where Grethari had left her, and then she began to
understand what had happened. Her heart was heavy, but she soon made up her mind what to do,
and pushing her way out of the wood, she skirted the high wall that enclosed the royal park and
gardens, till she reached a [Pg 36] small house where the forester lived with his two daughters.
‘Do you want a girl to sweep, and to milk the cows?’ asked she, when one of the sisters answered
her knock.
‘Yes, we do, very badly; and as you look strong and clean, we will take you for a servant if you like
to come,’ replied the young woman.
‘But, first, what is your name?’
‘Lauphertha,’ said Geirlaug quickly, for she did not wish anyone to know who she was; and
following her new mistress into the house, she begged to be taught her work without delay. And so
clever was she, that, by-and-by, it began to be noised abroad that the strange girl who had come to
live in the forester’s house had not her equal in the whole kingdom for skill as well as beauty. Thus
the years slipped away, during which Geirlaug grew to be a woman. Now and then she caught
glimpses of Grethari as he rode out to hunt in the forest, but when she saw him coming she hid
herself behind the great trees, for her heart was still sore at his forgetfulness. One day, however,
when she was gathering herbs, he came upon her suddenly, before she had time to escape, though as
she had stained her face and hands brown, and covered her beautiful hair with a scarlet cap, he did
not guess her to be his foster-sister.
‘What is your name, pretty maiden?’ asked he.
‘Lauphertha,’ answered the girl with a low curtesy.
‘Ah! it is you, then, of whom I have heard so much,’ said he; ‘you are too beautiful to spend your
life serving the forester’s daughters. Come with me to the palace, and my mother the queen will
make you one of her ladies in waiting.’
‘Truly, that would be a great fortune,’ replied the maiden. ‘And, if you really mean it, I will go with
you. But how shall I know that you are not jesting?’
‘Give me something to do for you, and I will do it, whatever [Pg 37] it is,’ cried the young man
eagerly. And she cast down her eyes, and answered:
‘Go to the stable, and bind the calf that is there so that it shall not break loose in the night and
wander away, for the forester and his daughters have treated me well, and I would not leave them
with aught of my work still undone.’
So Grethari set out for the stable where the calf stood, and wound the rope about its horns. But
when he had made it fast to the wall, he found that a coil of the rope had twisted itself round his
wrist, and, pull as he might, he could not get free. All night he wriggled and [Pg 38] struggled till he
was half dead with fatigue. But when the sun rose the rope suddenly fell away from him, and, very
angry with the maiden he dragged himself back to the palace. ‘She is a witch,’ he muttered crossly
to himself, ‘and I will have no more to do with her.’ And he flung himself on his bed and slept all
day.
Not long after this adventure the king and queen sent their beloved son on an embassy to a
neighbouring country to seek a bride from amongst the seven princesses. The most beautiful of all
was, of course, the one chosen, and the young pair took ship without delay for the kingdom of the
prince’s parents. The wind was fair and the vessel so swift that, in less time than could have been
expected, the harbour nearest the castle was reached. A splendid carriage had been left in readiness
close to the beach, but no horses were to be found, for every one had been carried off to take part in
a great review which the king was to hold that day in honour of his son’s marriage.
‘I can’t stay here all day,’ said the princess, crossly, when Grethari told her of the plight they were
in. ‘I am perfectly worn out as it is, and you will have to find something to draw the carriage, if it is
only a donkey. If you don’t, I will sail back straight to my father.’
Poor Grethari was much troubled by the words of the princess. Not that he felt so very much in love
with her, for during the voyage she had shown him several times how vain and bad tempered she
was; but as a prince and a bridegroom, he could not, of course, bear to think that any slight had been
put upon her. So he hastily bade his attendants to go in search of some animal, and bring it at once
to the place at which they were waiting.
[Pg 39]
During the long pause the princess sat in the beautiful golden coach, her blue velvet mantle
powdered with silver bees drawn closely round her, so that not even the tip of her nose could be
seen. At length a girl appeared driving [Pg 41] a young ox in front of her, followed by one of the
prince’s messengers, who was talking eagerly.
‘Will you lend me your ox, fair maiden?’ asked Grethari, jumping up and going to meet them. ‘You
shall fix your own price, and it shall be paid ungrudgingly, for never before was king’s son in such a
plight.’
‘My price is seats for me and my two friends behind you and your bride at the wedding feast,’
answered she. And to this Grethari joyfully consented.
Six horses would not have drawn the coach at the speed of this one ox. Trees and fields flew by so
fast that the bride became quite giddy, and expected, besides, that they would be upset every
moment. But, in spite of her fears, nothing happened, and they drew up in safety at the door of the
palace, to the great surprise of the king and queen. The marriage preparations were hurried on, and
by the end of the week everything was ready. It was, perhaps, fortunate that the princess was too
busy with her clothes and her jewels during this period to pay much heed to Grethari, so that by the
time the wedding day came round he had almost forgotten how cross and rude she had been on the
journey.
The oldest men and women in the town agreed that nothing so splendid had ever been seen as the
bridal procession to the great hall, where the banquet was to be held, before the ceremony was
celebrated in the palace. The princess was in high good humour, feeling that all eyes were upon her,
and bowed and smiled right and left. Taking the prince’s hand, she sailed proudly down the room,
where the guests were already assembled, to her place at the head of the table by the side of the
bridegroom. As she did so, three strange ladies in shining dresses of blue, green, and red, glided in
and seated themselves on a vacant bench immediately behind the young couple. The red lady was
Geirlaug, who had brought with her the forester’s daughters, and in one hand she held a wand of
birch bark, and in the other a closed basket.
[Pg 42] Silently they sat as the feast proceeded; hardly anyone noticed their presence, or, if they did,
supposed them to be attendants of their future queen. Suddenly, when the merriment was at its
height, Geirlaug opened the basket, and out flew a cock and hen. To the astonishment of everyone,
the birds circled about in front of the royal pair, the cock plucking the feathers out of the tail of the
hen, who tried in vain to escape from him.
‘Will you treat me as badly as Grethari treated Geirlaug?’ cried the hen at last. And Grethari heard,
and started up wildly. In an instant all the past rushed back to him; the princess by his side was
forgotten, and he only saw the face of the child with whom he had played long years ago.
‘Where is Geirlaug?’ he exclaimed, looking round the hall; and his eyes fell upon the strange lady.
With a smile she held out a ring which he had given her on her twelfth birthday, when they were
still children, without a thought of the future. ‘You and none other shall be my wife,’ he said, taking
her hand, and leading her into the middle of the company.
It is not easy to describe the scene that followed. Of course, nobody understood what had occurred,
and the king and queen imagined that their son had suddenly gone mad. As for the princess her rage
and fury were beyond belief. The guests left the hall as quickly as they could, so that the royal
family might arrange their own affairs, and in the end it was settled that half the kingdom must be
given to the despised princess, instead of a husband. She sailed back at once to her country, where
she was soon betrothed to a young noble, whom, in reality, she liked much better than Grethari.
That evening Grethari was married to Geirlaug, and they lived happily till they died, and made all
their people happy also.
(From Neuisländischen Volksmärchen.)
[Pg 43]
One day, she was sitting in the tower, which looked out over a rocky heath, covered in summer with
purple and yellow flowers, when she beheld a troop of horsemen riding towards the castle. In the
midst, seated on a white horse with black and silver trappings, was a lady whom the duchess at once
knew to be her friend the Countess [Pg 44] of Blanchelande, a young widow like herself, mother of
a little boy two years older than Abeille des Clarides. The duchess hailed her arrival with delight,
but her joy was soon turned into weeping when the countess sank down beside her on a pile of
cushions, and told the reason of her visit.
‘As you know,’ she said, taking her friend’s hand and pressing it between her own, ‘whenever a
Countess of Blanchelande is about to die she finds a white rose lying on her pillow. Last night I
went to bed feeling unusually happy, but this morning when I woke the rose was resting against my
cheek. I have no one to help me in the world but you, and I have come to ask if you will take Youri
my son, and let him be a brother to Abeille?’
Tears choked the voice of the duchess, but she flung herself on the countess’s neck, and pressed her
close. Silently the two women took leave of each other, and silently the doomed lady mounted her
horse and rode home again. Then, giving her sleeping boy into the care of Francœur, her steward,
she laid herself quietly on her bed, where, the next morning, they found her dead and peaceful.
So Youri and Abeille grew up side by side, and the duchess faithfully kept her promise, and was a
mother to them both. As they got bigger she often took them with her on her journeys through her
duchy, and taught them to know her people, and to pity and to aid them.
It was on one of these journeys that, after passing through meadows covered with flowers, Youri
caught sight of a great glittering expanse lying beneath some distant mountains.
‘What is that, godmother?’ he asked, waving his hand. ‘The shield of a giant, I suppose.’
‘No; a silver plate as big as the moon!’ said Abeille, twisting herself round on her pony.
[Pg 45] ‘It is neither a silver plate nor a giant’s shield,’ replied the duchess; ‘but a beautiful lake.
Still, in spite of its beauty, it is dangerous to go near it, for in its depths dwell some Undines, or
water spirits, who lure all passers-by to their deaths.’
Nothing more was said about the lake, but the children did not forget it, and one morning, after they
had returned to the castle, Abeille came up to Youri.
‘The tower door is open,’ whispered she; ‘let us go up. Perhaps we shall find some fairies.’
But they did not find any fairies; only, when they reached the roof, the lake looked bluer and more
enchanting than ever. Abeille gazed at it for a moment, and then she said:
‘Do you see? I mean to go there!’
‘But you mustn’t,’ cried Youri. ‘You heard what your mother said. And, besides, it is so far; how
could we get there?’
‘You ought to know that,’ answered Abeille scornfully. ‘What is the good of being a man, and
learning all sorts of things, if you have to ask me. However, there are plenty of other men in the
world, and I shall get one of them to tell me.’
Youri coloured; Abeille had never spoken like this before, and, instead of being two years younger
than himself, she suddenly seemed many years older. She stood with her mocking eyes fixed on
him, till he grew angry at being outdone by a girl, and taking her hand he said boldly:
‘Very well, we will both go to the lake.’
The next afternoon, when the duchess was working at her tapestry surrounded by her maidens, the
children went out, as usual, to play in the garden. The moment they found themselves alone, Youri
turned to Abeille, and holding out his hand, said:
‘Come.’
[Pg 46] ‘Come where?’ asked Abeille, opening her eyes very wide.
‘To the lake, of course,’ answered the boy.
Abeille was silent. It was one thing to pretend you meant to be disobedient some day, a long time
off, and quite another to start for such a distant place without anyone knowing that you had left the
garden. ‘And in satin shoes, too! How stupid boys were to be sure.’
‘Stupid or not, I am going to the lake, and you are going with me!’ said Youri, who had not
forgotten or forgiven the look she had cast on him the day before. ‘Unless,’ added he, ‘you are
afraid, and in that case I shall go alone.’
This was too much for Abeille. Bursting into tears, she flung herself on Youri’s neck, and declared
that wherever he went she would go too. So, peace having been made between them, they set out.
[Pg 47]
It was a hot day, and the townspeople were indoors waiting till the sun was low in the sky before
they set out either to work or play, so the children passed through the streets unperceived, and
crossed the river by the bridge into the flowery meadows along the road by which they had ridden
with the duchess. By-and-by Abeille began to feel thirsty, but the sun had drunk up all the water,
and not a drop was left for her. They walked on a little further, and by good luck found a cherry-tree
covered with ripe fruit, and after a rest and a refreshing meal, they were sure that they were strong
enough to reach the lake in a few minutes. But soon Abeille began to limp and to say that her foot
hurt her, and Youri had to untie the ribbons that fastened her shoe and see what was the matter. A
stone had got in, so this was easily set right, and for a while they skipped along the path singing and
chattering, till Abeille stopped again. This time her shoe had come off, and turning to pick it up she
caught sight of the towers of the castle, looking [Pg 49] such a long way off that her heart sank, and
she burst into tears.
‘It is getting dark, and the wolves will eat us,’ sobbed she. But Youri put his arms round her and
comforted her.
‘Why we are close to the lake now. There is nothing to be afraid of! We shall be home again to
supper,’ cried he. And Abeille dried her eyes, and trotted on beside him.
Yes, the lake was there, blue and silvery with purple and gold irises growing on its banks, and white
water-lilies floated on its bosom. Not a trace was there of a man, or of one of the great beasts so
much feared by Abeille, but only the marks of tiny forked feet on the sand. The little girl at once
pulled off her torn shoes and stockings and let the water flow over her, while Youri looked about for
some nuts or strawberries. But none were to be found.
‘I noticed, a little way back, a clump of blackberry bushes,’ said he. ‘Wait here for me, and I will go
and gather some fruit, and after that we will start home again.’ And Abeille, leaning her head
drowsily against a cushion of soft moss, murmured something in reply, and soon fell asleep. In her
dream a crow, bearing the smallest man that ever was seen, appeared hovering for a moment above
her, and then vanished. At the same instant Youri returned and placed by her side a large leaf-full of
strawberries.
‘It is a pity to wake her just yet,’ thought he, and wandered off beyond a clump of silvery willows to
a spot from which he could get a view of the whole lake. In the moonlight, the light mist that hung
over the surface made it look like fairyland. Then gradually the silver veil seemed to break up, and
the shapes of fair women with outstretched hands and long green locks floated towards him. Seized
with a sudden fright, the boy turned to fly. But it was too late.
[Pg 50] Unconscious of the terrible doom that had befallen her foster-brother, Abeille slept on, and
did not awake even when a crowd of little men with white beards down to their knees came and
stood in a circle round her.
‘What shall we do with her?’ asked Pic, who seemed older than any of them, though they were all
very old.
‘Build a cage and put her into it,’ answered Rug.
‘No! No! What should such a beautiful princess do in a cage?’ cried Dig. And Tad, who was the
kindest of them all, proposed to carry her home to her parents. But the other gnomes were too
pleased with their new toy to listen to this for a moment.
‘Look, she is waking,’ whispered Pau. And as he spoke Abeille slowly opened her eyes. At first she
imagined she was still dreaming; but as the little men did not move, it suddenly dawned upon her
that they were real, and starting to her feet, she called loudly:
‘Youri! Youri! Where are you?’
At the sound of her voice the gnomes only pressed more closely round her, and, trembling with fear,
she hid her face in her hands. The gnomes were at first much puzzled to know what to do; then Tad,
climbing on a branch of the willow tree that hung over her, stooped down, and gently stroked her
fingers. The child understood that he meant to be kind, and letting her hands fall, gazed at her
captors. After an instant’s pause she said:
‘Little men, it is a great pity that you are so ugly. But, all the same, I will love you if you will only
give me something to eat, as I am dying of hunger.’
A rustle was heard among the group as she spoke. Some were very angry at being called ugly, and
said she deserved no better fate than to be left where she was. Others laughed, and declared that it
did not matter what a mere mortal thought about them; while Tad bade Bog, their messenger, fetch
her some milk and honey, and the [Pg 51] finest white bread that was made in their ovens under the
earth. In less time than Abeille would have taken to tie her shoe he was back again, mounted on his
crow. And by the time she had eaten the bread and honey and drunk the milk, Abeille was not
frightened any more, and felt quite ready to talk.
‘Little men,’ she said, looking up with a smile, ‘your supper was very good, and I thank you for it.
My name is Abeille, and my brother is called Youri. Help me to find him, and tell me which is the
path that leads to the castle, for mother must think something dreadful has happened to us!’
‘But your feet are so sore that you cannot walk,’ answered Dig. ‘And we may not cross the bounds
into your country. The best we can do is to make a litter of twigs and cover it with moss, and we
will bear you into the mountains, and present you to our king.’
Now, many a little girl would have been terrified at the thought of being carried off alone, she did
not know where. But Abeille, when she had recovered from her first fright, was pleased at the
notion of her strange adventure.
‘How much she would have to tell her mother and Youri on her return. Probably they would never
go inside a mountain, if they lived to be a hundred.’ So she curled herself comfortably on her nest of
moss, and waited to see what would happen.
Up, and up, and up they went; and by-and-by Abeille fell asleep again, and did not wake till the sun
was shining. Up, and up, and up, for the little men could only walk very slowly, though they could
spring over rocks quicker than any mortal. Suddenly the light that streamed through the branches of
the litter began to change. It seemed hardly less bright, but it was certainly different; then the litter
was put down, and the gnomes crowded round and helped Abeille to step out of it.
Before her stood a little man not half her size, but splendidly [Pg 52] dressed and full of dignity. On
his head was a crown of such huge diamonds that you wondered how his small body could support
it. A royal mantle fell from his shoulders, and in his hand he held a lance.
‘King Loc,’ said one of the forest gnomes, ‘we found this beautiful child asleep by the lake, and
have brought her to you. She says that her name is Abeille, and her mother is the Duchess des
Clarides.’
‘You have done well,’ answered the king; ‘she shall be one of us.’ And standing on tiptoe, so that he
could kiss her hand, he told her that they would all take care of her and make her happy, and that
anything she wished for she should have at once.
‘I want a pair of shoes,’ replied Abeille.
‘Shoes!’ commanded the king, striking the ground with his lance; and immediately a lovely pair of
silver shoes embroidered with pearls were slipped on her feet by one of the gnomes.
‘They are beautiful shoes,’ said Abeille rather doubtfully; ‘but do you think they will carry me all
the way back to my mother?’
‘No, they are not meant for rough roads,’ replied the king, ‘but for walking about the smooth paths
of the mountain, for we have many wonders to show you.’
‘Little King Loc,’ answered Abeille, ‘take away these beautiful slippers and give me a pair of
wooden shoes instead, and let me go back to my mother.’ But King Loc only shook his head.
‘Little King Loc,’ said Abeille again—and this time her voice trembled—‘let me go back to my
mother and Youri, and I will love you with all my heart, nearly as well as I love them.’
‘Who is Youri?’ asked King Loc.
‘Why—Youri—who has lived with us since I was a baby,’ replied Abeille; surprised that he did not
know what everyone else was aware of, and never guessing that by mentioning the boy she was
sealing her own fate. For [Pg 53] King Loc had already thought what a good wife she would make
him in a few years’ time, and he did not want Youri to come between them. So he was silent, and
Abeille, seeing he was not pleased, burst into tears.
‘Little King Loc,’ she cried, taking hold of a corner of his mantle, ‘think how unhappy my mother
will be. She will fancy that wild beasts have eaten me, or that I have got drowned in the lake.’
‘Be comforted,’ replied King Loc; ‘I will send her a dream, so that she shall know that you are
safe.’
At this Abeille’s sad face brightened. ‘Little King Loc,’ she said, smiling, ‘how clever you are! But
you must send her a dream every night, so that she shall see me—and me a dream, so that I may see
her.’
And this King Loc promised to do.
When Abeille grew accustomed to do without her mother and Youri, she made herself happy
enough in her new home. Everyone was kind to her, and petted her, and then there were such
quantities of new things for her to see. The gnomes were always busy, and knew how to fashion
beautiful toys as well or better than the people who lived on the earth; and now and then, wandering
with Tad or Dig in the underground passages, Abeille would catch a glimpse of blue sky through a
rent in the rocks, and this she loved best of all. In this manner six years passed away.
‘His Highness King Loc wishes to see you in his presence chamber,’ said Tad, one morning, to
Abeille, who was singing to herself on a golden lute; and Abeille, wondering why the king had
grown so formal all of a sudden, got up obediently. Directly she appeared, King Loc opened a door
in the wall which led into his treasure chamber. Abeille had never been there before, and was
amazed at the splendid things heaped up before her. Gold, jewels, brocades, carpets, lay round the
walls, and she walked about examining one glittering object after another, while King Loc mounted
a throne of gold and ivory at one end [Pg 54] of the hall, and watched her. ‘Choose whatever you
wish,’ he said at last. A necklace of most lovely pearls was hanging from the wall, and after
hesitating for a moment between that and a circlet of diamonds and sapphires, Abeille stretched up
her hand towards it. But before she touched it her eyes lighted on a tiny piece of sky visible through
a crack of the rock, and her hand dropped by her side. ‘Little King Loc, let me go up to the earth
once again,’ she said.
Then King Loc made a sign to the treasurer, who opened a coffer full of nothing but precious
stones, larger and more dazzling than were worn by any earthly monarch. ‘Choose what you will,
Abeille,’ whispered King Loc.
But Abeille only shook her head.
‘A drop of dew in the garden at Clarides is brighter to me than the best of those diamonds,’ she
answered, ‘and the bluest of the stones are not as blue as the eyes of Youri.’ And as she spoke a
sharp pain ran through the heart of King Loc. For an instant he said nothing, then he lifted his head
and looked at her. ‘Only those who despise riches should possess them. Take this crown, from
henceforth you are the Princess of the Gnomes.’
During thirty days no work was done in those underground regions, for a feast was held in honour
of the new princess. At the end of that period, the king appeared before Abeille, clad in his most
splendid garments, and solemnly asked her to be his wife.
‘Little King Loc,’ answered the girl, ‘I love you as you are, for your goodness and kindness to me;
but never, never can I love you as anything else.’
The king sighed. It was only what he had expected; still, his disappointment was great, though he
tried bravely to hide it, and even to smile as he said: ‘Then, Abeille, will you promise me one thing?
If there should come a day when you find that there is somebody whom you could love, will you
tell me?’
[Pg 55] And in her turn Abeille promised.
After this, in spite of the fact that everyone was just as kind to her as before, Abeille was no longer
the merry child who passed all her days playing with the little gnomes. People who dwell under the
earth grow up much faster than those who live on its surface, and, at thirteen, the girl was already a
woman. Besides, King Loc’s words had set her thinking; she spent many hours by herself, and her
face was no longer round and rosy, but thin and pale. It was in vain that the gnomes did their best to
entice her into her old games, they had lost their interest, and even her lute lay unnoticed on the
ground.
But one morning a change seemed to come over her. Leaving the room hung with beautiful silks,
where she usually sat alone, she entered the king’s presence, and taking his hand she led him
through long corridors till they came to a place where a strip of blue sky was to be seen.
‘Little King Loc,’ she said, turning her eyes upon him, ‘let me behold my mother again, or I shall
surely die.’ Her voice shook, and her whole body trembled. Even an enemy might have pitied her;
but the king, who loved her, answered nothing. All day long Abeille stayed there, watching the light
fade, and the sky grow pale. By-and-by the stars came out, but the girl never moved from her place.
Suddenly a hand touched her. She looked round with a start, and there was King Loc, covered from
head to foot in a dark mantle, holding another over his arm. ‘Put on this and follow me,’ was all he
said. But Abeille somehow knew that she was going to see her mother.
On, and on, and on they went, through passages where Abeille had never been before, and at length
she was out in the world again. Oh! how beautiful it all was! How fresh was the air, and how sweet
was the smell of the flowers! She felt as if she should die with joy, but at [Pg 56] that moment King
Loc lifted her off the ground, and, tiny though he was, carried her quite easily across the garden and
through an open door into the silent castle.
‘Listen, Abeille,’ he whispered softly. ‘You have guessed where we are going, and you know that
every night I send your mother a vision of you, and she talks to it in her dream, and smiles at it. To-
night it will be no vision she sees, but you yourself; only remember, that if you touch her or speak
to her my power is lost, and never more will she behold either you or your image.’
By this time they had reached the room which Abeille knew so well, and her heart beat violently as
the gnome carried her over the threshold. By the light of a lamp hanging over the bed Abeille could
see her mother, beautiful still, but with a face that had grown pale and sad. As she gazed the sadness
vanished, and a bright smile came in its stead. Her mother’s arms were stretched out towards her,
and the girl, her eyes filled with tears of joy, was stooping to meet them, when King Loc hastily
snatched her up, and bore her back to the realm of the gnomes.
If the king imagined that by granting Abeille’s request he would make her happy, he soon found out
his mistake, for all day long the girl sat weeping, paving no heed to the efforts of her friends to
comfort her.
‘Tell me what is making you so unhappy?’ said King Loc, at last. And Abeille answered:
[Pg 57]
‘Little King Loc, and all my friends here, you are so good and kind that I know that you are
miserable when I am in trouble. I would be happy if I could, but it is stronger than I. I am weeping
because I shall never see again Youri de Blanchelande, whom I love with all my heart. It is a worse
grief than parting with my mother, for at least I know where she is and what she [Pg 59] is doing;
while, as for Youri, I cannot tell if he is dead or alive.’
The gnomes were all silent. Kind as they were, they were not mortals, and had never felt either
great joys or deep sorrows. Only King Loc dimly guessed at something of both, and he went away
to consult an old, old gnome, who lived in the lowest depth of the mountain, and had spectacles of
every sort, that enabled him to see all that was happening, not only on the earth, but under the sea.
Nur, for such was his name, tried many of these spectacles before he could discover anything about
Youri de Blanchelande.
‘There he is!’ he cried at last. ‘He is sitting in the palace of the Undines, under the great lake; but he
does not like his prison, and longs to be back in the world, doing great deeds.’
It was true. In the seven years that had passed since he had left the castle of Clarides to go with
Abeille to the blue lake, Youri in his turn had become a man.
The older he grew the more weary he got of the petting and spoiling he received at the hands of the
green-haired maidens, till, one day, he flung himself at the feet of the Undine queen, and implored
permission to return to his old home.
The queen stooped down and stroked his hair.
‘We cannot spare you,’ she murmured gently. ‘Stay here, and you shall be king, and marry me.’
‘But it is Abeille I want to marry,’ said the youth boldly. But he might as well have talked to the
winds, for at last the queen grew angry, and ordered him to be put in a crystal cage which was built
for him round a pointed rock.
It was here that King Loc, aided by the spectacles of Nur, found him after many weeks’ journey. As
we know, the gnomes walk slowly, and the way was long and difficult. [Pg 60] Luckily, before he
started, he had taken with him his magic ring, and the moment it touched the wall the crystal cage
split from top to bottom.
‘Follow that path, and you will find yourself in the world again,’ he said to Youri; and without
waiting to listen to the young man’s thanks, set out on the road he had come.
‘Bog,’ he cried, to the little man on the crow, who had ridden to meet him. ‘Hasten to the palace and
inform the Princess Abeille that Youri de Blanchelande, for seven years a captive in the kingdom of
the Undines, has now returned to the castle of Clarides.’
The first person whom Youri met as he came out of the mountain was the tailor who had made all
his clothes from the time that he came to live at the castle. Of this old friend, who was nearly beside
himself with joy at the sight of the little master, lost for so many years, the count begged for news
of his foster-mother and Abeille.
‘Alas! my lord, where can you have been that you do not know that the Princess Abeille was carried
off by the gnomes on the very day that you disappeared yourself? At least, so we guess. Ah! that
day has left many a mark on our duchess! Yet she is not without a gleam of hope that her daughter is
living yet, for every night the poor mother is visited by a dream which tells her all that the princess
is doing.’
The good man went on to tell of all the changes that seven years had brought about in the village,
but Youri heard nothing that he said, for his mind was busy with thoughts of Abeille.
At length he roused himself, and ashamed of his delay, he hastened to the chamber of the duchess,
who held him in her arms as if she would never let him go. By-and-by, however, when she became
calmer, he began to question her about Abeille, and how best to deliver [Pg 61] her from the power
of the gnomes. The duchess then told him that she had sent out men in all directions to look for the
children directly they were found to be missing, and that one of them had noticed a troop of little
men far away on the mountains, evidently carrying a litter. He was hastening after them, when, at
his feet, he beheld a tiny satin slipper, which he stooped to pick up. But as he did so a dozen of the
gnomes had swarmed upon him like flies, and beat him about the head till he dropped the slipper,
which they took away with them, leaving the poor man dizzy with pain. When he recovered his
senses the group on the mountain had disappeared.
That night, when everyone was asleep, Youri and his old servant Francœur, stole softly down into
the armoury, and dressed themselves in light suits of chain armour, with helmets and short swords,
all complete. Then they mounted two horses that Francœur had tied up in the forest, and set forth
for the kingdom of the gnomes. At the end of an hour’s hard riding, they came to the cavern which
Francœur had heard from childhood led into the centre of the earth. Here they dismounted, and
entered cautiously, expecting to find darkness as thick as what they had left outside. But they had
only gone a few steps when they were nearly blinded by a sudden blaze of light, which seemed to
proceed from a sort of portcullis door, which barred the way in front of them.
‘Who are you?’ asked a voice. And the count answered:
‘Youri de Blanchelande, who has come to rescue Abeille des Clarides.’ And at these words the gate
slowly swung open, and closed behind the two strangers.
Youri listened to the clang with a spasm of fear in his heart; then the desperate position he was in
gave him courage. There was no retreat for him now, and in front was drawn up a large force of
gnomes, whose [Pg 62] arrows were falling like hail about him. He raised his shield to ward them
off, and as he did so his eyes fell on a little man standing on a rock above the rest, with a crown on
his head and a royal mantle on his shoulders. In an instant Youri had flung away his shield and
sprung forward, regardless of the arrows that still fell about him.
‘Oh, is it you, is it really you, my deliverer? And is it your subjects who hold as a captive Abeille
whom I love?’
‘I am King Loc,’ was the answer. And the figure with [Pg 63] the long beard bent his eyes kindly on
the eager youth. ‘If Abeille has lived with us all these years, for many of them she was quite happy.
But the gnomes, of whom you think so little, are a just people, and they will not keep her against
her will. Beg the princess to be good enough to come hither,’ he added, turning to Rug.
Amidst a dead silence Abeille entered the vast space and looked around her. At first she saw nothing
but a vast host of gnomes perched on the walls and crowding on the floor of the big hall. Then her
eyes met those of Youri, and with a cry that came from her heart she darted towards him, and threw
herself on his breast.
‘Abeille,’ said the king, when he had watched her for a moment, with a look of pain on his face, ‘is
this the man that you wish to marry?’
‘Yes, Little King Loc, this is he and nobody else! And see how I can laugh now, and how happy I
am!’ And with that she began to cry.
‘Hush, Abeille! there must be no tears to-day,’ said Youri, gently stroking her hair. ‘Come, dry your
eyes, and thank King Loc, who rescued me from the cage in the realm of the Undines.’
As Youri spoke Abeille lifted her head, and a great light came into her face. At last she understood.
‘You did that for me?’ she whispered. ‘Ah, Little King Loc——!’
So, loaded with presents, and followed by regrets, Abeille went home. In a few days the marriage
took place; but however happy she was, and however busy she might be, never a month passed by
without a visit from Abeille to her friends in the kingdom of the gnomes.
(Adapted and shortened from the story of Abeille, by M. Anatole France.)
[Pg 64]
‘A LONG-BOW STORY’
One day a bunniah,[1] or banker, was walking along a country road when he overtook a farmer
going in the same direction. Now the bunniah was very grasping, like most of his class, and was
lamenting that he had had no chance of making any money that day; but at the sight of the man in
front he brightened up wonderfully.
‘That is a piece of luck,’ he said to himself. ‘Let me see if this farmer is not good for something’;
and he hastened his steps.
After they had bid one another good day very politely, the bunniah said to the farmer:
‘I was just thinking how dull I felt, when I beheld you, but since we are going the same way, I shall
find the road quite short in such agreeable company.’
‘With all my heart,’ replied the farmer; ‘but what shall we talk about? A city man like you will not
care to hear about cattle and crops.’
‘Oh,’ said the bunniah, ‘I’ll tell you what we will do. We will each tell the other the wildest tale we
can imagine, and he who first throws doubt on the other’s story shall pay him a hundred rupees.’
To this the farmer agreed, and begged the bunniah to begin, as he was the bigger man of the two;
and privately he made up his mind that, however improbable it might be, nothing should induce him
to hint that he did not believe [Pg 65] in the bunniah’s tale. Thus politely pressed the great man
started:
‘I was going along this road one day, when I met a merchant travelling with a great train of camels
laden with merchandise——’
‘Very likely,’ murmured the farmer; ‘I’ve seen that kind of thing myself.’
‘No less than one hundred and one camels,’ continued the bunniah, ‘all tied together by their nose
strings—nose to tail—and stretching along the road for almost half a mile——’
‘Well?’ said the farmer.
‘Well, a kite swooped down on the foremost camel and bore him off, struggling, into the air, and by
reason of them all being tied together the other hundred camels had to follow——’
‘Amazing, the strength of that kite!’ said the farmer. ‘But—well—yes, doubtless; yes—well—one
hundred and one camels—and what did he do with them?’
‘You doubt it?’ demanded the bunniah.
‘Not a bit!’ said the farmer heartily.
‘Well,’ continued the bunniah, ‘it happened that the princess of a neighbouring kingdom was sitting
in her private garden, having her hair combed by her maid, and she was looking upward, with her
head thrown back, whilst the maid tugged away at the comb, when that wretched kite, with its prey,
went soaring overhead; and, as luck would have it, the camels gave an extra kick just then, the kite
lost his hold, and the whole hundred and one camels dropped right into the princess’s left eye!’
‘Poor thing!’ said the farmer; ‘it’s so painful having anything in one’s eye.’
‘Well,’ said the bunniah, who was now warming to his task, ‘the princess shook her head, and
sprang up, clapping her hand on her eye. “Oh dear!” she cried, “I’ve got something in my eye, and
how it does smart!”’
[Pg 66] ‘It always does,’ observed the farmer, ‘perfectly true. Well, what did the poor thing do?’
‘At the sound of her cries, the maid came running to her assistance. “Let me look,” said she; and
with that she gave the princess’s eyelid a twitch, and out came a camel, which the maid put in her
pocket—’ (‘Ah!’ grunted the farmer)—‘and then she just twisted up the corner of her headcloth and
fished a hundred more of them out of the princess’s eye, and popped them all into her pocket with
the other.’
Here the bunniah gasped as one who is out of breath, but the farmer looked at him slowly. ‘Well?’
said he.
‘I can’t think of anything more now,’ replied the bunniah. ‘Besides, that is the end; what do you say
to it?’
‘Wonderful,’ replied the farmer, ‘and no doubt perfectly true!’
‘Well, it is your turn,’ said the bunniah. ‘I am so anxious to hear your story. I am sure it will be very
interesting.’
‘Yes, I think it will,’ answered the farmer, and he began:
‘My father was a very prosperous man. Five cows he had, and three yoke of oxen, and half a dozen
buffaloes, and goats in abundance; but of all his possessions the thing he loved best was a mare. A
well bred mare she was—oh, a very fine mare!’
‘Yes, yes,’ interrupted the bunniah, ‘get on!’
‘I’m getting on,’ said the farmer, ‘don’t you hurry me! Well, one day, as ill-luck would have it, he
rode that mare to market with a torn saddle, which galled her so, that when they got home she had a
sore on her back as big as the palm of your hand.’
‘Yes,’ said the bunniah impatiently, ‘what next?’
[Pg 67]
‘It was June,’ said the farmer, ‘and you know how, in June, the air is full of dust-storms with rain at
times? Well, the poor beast got dust in that wound, and what’s [Pg 69] more, with the dust some
grains of wheat, and, what with the dust and the heat and the wet, that wheat sprouted and began to
grow!’
‘Wheat does when it gets a fair chance,’ said the bunniah.
‘Yes; and the next thing we knew was that there was a crop of wheat on that horse’s back as big as
anything you ever saw in a hundred-acre field, and we had to hire twenty men to reap it!’
‘One generally has to hire extra hands for reaping,’ said the bunniah.
‘And we got four hundred maunds of wheat off that mare’s back!’ continued the farmer.
‘A good crop!’ murmured the bunniah.
‘And your father,’ said the farmer, ‘a poor wretch, with hardly enough to keep body and soul
together—(the bunniah snorted, but was silent)—came to my father, and he said, putting his hands
together as humble as could be——’
The bunniah here flashed a furious glance at his companion, but bit his lips and held his peace.
‘“I haven’t tasted food for a week. Oh! great master, let me have the loan of sixteen maunds of
wheat from your store, and I will repay you.”’
‘“Certainly, neighbour,” answered my father; “take what you need, and repay it as you can.”’
‘Well?’ demanded the bunniah with fury in his eye.
‘Well, he took the wheat away with him,’ replied the farmer; ‘but he never repaid it, and it’s a debt
to this day. Sometimes I wonder whether I shall not go to law about it.’
Then the bunniah began running his thumb quickly up and down the fingers of his right hand, and
his lips moved in quick calculation.
‘What is the matter?’ asked the farmer.
‘The wheat is the cheaper; I’ll pay you for the wheat,’ [Pg 70] said the bunniah, with the calmness
of despair, as he remembered that by his own arrangement he was bound to give the farmer a
hundred rupees.
And to this day they say in those parts, when a man owes a debt: ‘Give me the money; or, if not
that, give me at least the wheat.’
(This is from oral tradition.)
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Grain merchant and banker, and generally a very greedy man.
[Pg 71]
JACKAL OR TIGER?
One hot night, in Hindustan, a king and queen lay awake in the palace in the midst of the city. Every
now and then a faint air blew through the lattice, and they hoped they were going to sleep, but they
never did. Presently they became more broad awake than ever at the sound of a howl outside the
palace.
‘Listen to that tiger!’ remarked the king.
‘Tiger?’ replied the queen. ‘How should there be a tiger inside the city? It was only a jackal.’
‘I tell you it was a tiger,’ said the king.
‘And I tell you that you were dreaming if you thought it was anything but a jackal,’ answered the
queen.
‘I say it was a tiger,’ cried the king; ‘don’t contradict me.’
‘Nonsense!’ snapped the queen. ‘It was a jackal.’ And the dispute waxed so warm that the king said
at last:
‘Very well, we’ll call the guard and ask; and if it was a jackal I’ll leave this kingdom to you and go
away; and if it was a tiger then you shall go, and I will marry a new wife.’
‘As you like,’ answered the queen, ‘there isn’t any doubt which it was.’
So the king called the two soldiers who were on guard outside and put the question to them. But,
whilst the dispute was going on, the king and queen had got so excited and talked so loud that the
guards had heard nearly all they said, and one man observed to the other:
[Pg 72] ‘Mind you declare that the king is right. It certainly was a jackal, but, if we say so, the king
will probably not keep his word about going away, and we shall get into trouble, so we had better
take his side.’
To this the other agreed; therefore, when the king asked them what animal they had seen, both the
guards said it was certainly a tiger, and that the king was right of course, as he always was. The king
made no remark, but sent for a palanquin, and ordered the queen to be placed in it, bidding the four
bearers of the palanquin to take her a long way off into the forest and there leave her. In spite of her
tears, she was forced to obey, and away the bearers went for three days and three nights until they
came to a dense wood. There they set down the palanquin with the queen in it, and started home
again.
Now the queen thought to herself that the king could not mean to send her away for good, and that
as soon as he had got over his fit of temper he would summon her back; so she stayed quite still for
a long time, listening with all her ears for approaching footsteps, but heard none. After a while she
grew nervous, for she was all alone, and put her head out of the palanquin and looked about her.
Day was just breaking, and birds and insects were beginning to stir; the leaves rustled in a warm
breeze; but, although the queen’s eyes wandered in all directions, there was no sign of any human
being. Then her spirit gave way, and she began to cry.
It so happened that close to the spot where the queen’s palanquin had been set down, there dwelt a
man who had a tiny farm in the midst of the forest, where he and his wife lived alone far from any
neighbours. As it was hot weather the farmer had been sleeping on the flat roof of his house, but
was awakened by the sound of weeping. He jumped up and ran downstairs as fast as he could, and
into the forest towards the place the sound came from, and there he found the palanquin.
[Pg 73] ‘Oh, poor soul that weeps,’ cried the farmer, standing a little way off, ‘who are you?’ At this
salutation from a stranger the queen grew silent, dreading she knew not what.
‘Oh, you that weep,’ repeated the farmer, ‘fear not to speak to me, for you are to me as a daughter.
Tell me, who are you?’
[Pg 74] His voice was so kind that the queen gathered up her courage and spoke. And when she had
told her story, the farmer called his wife, who led her to their house, and gave her food to eat, and a
bed to lie on. And in the farm, a few days later, a little prince was born, and by his mother’s wish
named Ameer Ali.
Years passed without a sign from the king. His wife might have been dead for all he seemed to care,
though the queen still lived with the farmer, and the little prince had by this time grown up into a
strong, handsome, and healthy youth. Out in the forest they seemed far from the world; very few
ever came near them, and the prince was continually begging his mother and the farmer to be
allowed to go away and seek adventures and to make his own living. But she and the wise farmer
always counselled him to wait, until, at last, when he was eighteen years of age, they had not the
heart to forbid him any longer. So he started off one early morning, with a sword by his side, a big
brass pot to hold water, a few pieces of silver, and a galail[2] or two-stringed bow in his hand, with
which to shoot birds as he travelled.
Many a weary mile he tramped day after day, until, one morning, he saw before him just such a
forest as that in which he had been born and bred, and he stepped joyfully into it, like one who goes
to meet an old friend. Presently, as he made his way through a thicket, he saw a pigeon which he
thought would make a good dinner, so he fired a pellet at it from his galail, but missed the pigeon
which fluttered away with a startled clatter. At the same instant he heard a great clamour from
beyond the thicket, and, on reaching the spot, he found an ugly old woman streaming wet and
crying loudly as she lifted from her head an earthen vessel with a hole in it from which the water
was pouring. When she saw the prince with his galail in his hand, she called out:
[Pg 75] ‘Oh, wretched one! why must you choose an old woman like me to play your pranks upon?
Where am I to get a fresh pitcher instead of this one that you have broken with your foolish tricks?
And how am I to go so far for water twice when one journey wearies me?’
‘But, mother,’ replied the prince, ‘I played no trick upon you! I did but shoot at a pigeon that should
have served me for dinner, and as my pellet missed it, it must have broken your pitcher. But, in
exchange, you shall have my brass pot, and that will not break easily; and as for getting water, tell
me where to find it, and I’ll fetch [Pg 76] it while you dry your garments in the sun, and carry it
whither you will.’
At this the old woman’s face brightened. She showed him where to seek the water, and when he
returned a few minutes later with his pot filled to the brim, she led the way without a word, and he
followed. In a short while they came to a hut in the forest, and as they drew near it Ameer Ali
beheld in the doorway the loveliest damsel his eyes had ever looked on. At the sight of a stranger
she drew her veil about her and stepped into the hut, and much as he wished to see her again Ameer
Ali could think of no excuse by which to bring her back, and so, with a heavy heart, he made his
salutation, and bade the old woman farewell. But when he had gone a little way she called after
him:
‘If ever you are in trouble or danger, come to where you now stand and cry: “Fairy of the Forest!
Fairy of the forest, help me now!” And I will listen to you.’
The prince thanked her and continued his journey, but he thought little of the old woman’s saying,
and much of the lovely damsel. Shortly afterwards he arrived at a city; and, as he was now in great
straits, having come to the end of his money, he walked straight to the palace of the king and asked
for employment. The king said he had plenty of servants and wanted no more; but the young man
pleaded so hard that at last the rajah was sorry for him, and promised that he should enter his
bodyguard on the condition that he would undertake any service which was especially difficult or
dangerous. This was just what Ameer Ali wanted, and he agreed to do whatever the king might
wish.
Soon after this, on a dark and stormy night, when the river roared beneath the palace walls, the
sound of a woman weeping and wailing was heard above the storm. The king ordered a servant to
go and see what was the matter; but the servant, falling on his knees in terror, begged that he might
not be sent on such an errand, particularly on a [Pg 77] night so wild, when evil spirits and witches
were sure to be abroad. Indeed, so frightened was he, that the king, who was very kind-hearted,
bade another to go in his stead, but each one showed the same strange fear. Then Ameer Ali stepped
forward:
‘This is my duty, your majesty,’ he said, ‘I will go.’
The king nodded, and off he went. The night was as dark as pitch, and the wind blew furiously and
drove the rain in sheets into his face; but he made his way down to the ford under the palace walls
and stepped into the flooded water. Inch by inch, and foot by foot he fought his way across, now
nearly swept off his feet by some sudden swirl or eddy, now narrowly escaping being caught in the
branches of some floating tree that came tossing and swinging down the stream. At length he
emerged, panting and dripping wet, on the other side. Close by the bank stood a gallows, and on the
gallows hung the body of some evildoer, whilst from the foot of it came the sound of sobbing that
the king had heard.
Ameer Ali was so grieved for the one who wept there that he thought nothing of the wildness of the
night or of the roaring river. As for ghosts and witches, they had never troubled him, so he walked
up towards the gallows where crouched the figure of the woman.
‘What ails you?’ he said.
Now the woman was not really a woman at all, but a horrid kind of witch who really lived in
Witchland, and had no business on earth. If ever a man strayed into Witchland the ogresses used to
eat him up, and this old witch thought she would like to catch a man for supper, and that is why she
had been sobbing and crying in hopes that someone out of pity might come to her rescue.
So when Ameer Ali questioned her, she replied:
‘Ah, kind sir, it is my poor son who hangs upon that gallows; help me to get him down and I will
bless you for ever.’
Ameer Ali thought that her voice sounded rather [Pg 78] eager than sorrowful, and he suspected that
she was not telling the truth, so he determined to be very cautious.
‘That will be rather difficult,’ he said, ‘for the gallows is high, and we have no ladder.’
‘Ah, but if you will just stoop down and let me climb upon your shoulders,’ answered the old witch,
‘I think [Pg 79] I could reach him.’ And her voice now sounded so cruel that Ameer Ali was sure
that she intended some evil. But he only said:
‘Very well, we will try.’ With that he drew his sword, pretending that he needed it to lean upon, and
bent so that the old woman could clamber on to his back, which she did very nimbly. Then,
suddenly, he felt a noose slipped over his neck, and the old witch sprang from his shoulders on to
the gallows, crying:
‘Now, foolish one, I have got you, and will kill you for my supper.’
But Ameer Ali gave a sweep upwards with his sharp sword to cut the rope that she had slipped
round his neck, and not only cut the cord but cut also the old woman’s foot as it dangled above him;
and with a yell of pain and anger she vanished into the darkness.
Ameer Ali then sat down to collect himself a little, and felt upon the ground by his side an anklet
that had evidently fallen off the old witch’s foot. This he put into his pocket, and as the storm had
by this time passed over he made his way back to the palace. When he had finished his story, he
took the anklet out of his pocket and handed it to the king, who, like everyone else, was amazed at
the glory of the jewels which composed it. Indeed, Ameer Ali himself was astonished, for he had
slipped the anklet into his pocket in the dark and had not looked at it since. The king was delighted
at its beauty, and having praised and rewarded Ameer Ali, he gave the anklet to his daughter, a
proud and spoiled princess.
Now in the women’s apartments in the palace there hung two cages, in one of which was a parrot
and in the other a starling, and these two birds could talk as well as human beings. They were both
pets of the princess who always fed them herself, and the next day, as she was walking grandly
about with her treasure tied [Pg 80] round her ankle, she heard the starling say to the parrot:
‘Oh, Toté’ (that was the parrot’s name), ‘how do you think the princess looks in her new jewel?’
‘Think?’ snapped the parrot, who was cross because they hadn’t given him his bath that morning, ‘I
think she looks like a washerwoman’s daughter, with one shoe on and the other off! Why doesn’t
she wear two of them, instead of going about with one leg adorned and the other empty?’
When the princess heard this she burst into tears; and sending for her father she declared that he
must get her another such an anklet to wear on the other leg, or she would die of shame. So the king
sent for Ameer Ali and told him that he must get a second anklet exactly like the first within a
month, or he should be hanged, for the princess would certainly die of disappointment.
Poor Ameer Ali was greatly troubled at the king’s command, but he thought to himself that he had,
at any rate, a month in which to lay his plans. He left the palace at once, and inquired of everyone
where the finest jewels were to be got; but though he sought night and day he never found one to
compare with the anklet. At last only a week remained, and he was in sore difficulty, when he
remembered the Fairy of the forest, and determined to go without loss of time and seek her.
Therefore away he went, and after a day’s travelling he reached the cottage in the forest, and,
standing where he had stood when the old woman called to him, he cried:
‘Fairy of the forest! Fairy of the forest! Help me! help me!’
Then there appeared in the doorway the beautiful girl he had seen before, whom in all his
wanderings he had never forgotten.
‘What is the matter?’ she asked, in a voice so soft that he listened like one struck dumb, and she had
to repeat the question before he could answer. Then he [Pg 81] told her his story, and she went
within the cottage and came back with two wands, and a pot of boiling water. The two wands she
planted in the ground about six feet apart, and then, turning to him, she said:
‘I am going to lie down between these two wands. You must then draw your sword and cut off my
foot, and, as soon as you have done that, you must seize it and hold it over the cauldron, and every
drop of blood that falls from it into the water will become a jewel. Next you must change the wands
so that the one that stood at my head is at my feet, and the one at my feet stands at my head, and
place the severed foot against the wound and it will heal, and I shall become quite well again as
before.’
At first Ameer Ali declared that he would sooner be hanged twenty times over than treat her so
roughly; but at length she persuaded him to do her bidding. He nearly fainted himself with horror
when he found that, after the cruel blow which lopped her foot off, she lay as one lifeless; but he
held the severed foot over the cauldron, and, as drops of blood fell from it, and he saw each turn in
the water into shining gems, his heart took courage. Very soon there were plenty of jewels in the
cauldron, and he quickly changed the wands, placed the severed foot against the wound, and
immediately the two parts became one as before. Then the maiden opened her eyes, sprang to her
feet, and drawing her veil about her, ran into the hut, and would not come out or speak to him any
more. For a long while he waited, but, as she did not appear, he gathered up the precious stones and
returned to the palace. He easily got some one to set the jewels, and found that there were enough to
make, not only one, but three rare and beautiful anklets, and these he duly presented to the king on
the very day that his month of grace was over.
The king embraced him warmly, and made him rich gifts; and the next day the vain princess put two
anklets [Pg 82] on each foot, and strutted up and down in them admiring herself in the mirrors that
lined her room.
‘Oh, Toté,’ asked the starling, ‘how do you think our princess looks now in these fine jewels?’
‘Ugh!’ growled the parrot, who was really always cross in the mornings, and never recovered his
temper until after lunch, ‘she’s got all her beauty at one end of her now; if she had a few of those
fine gew-gaws round her neck and wrists she would look better; but now, to my mind, she looks
more than ever like the washerwoman’s daughter dressed up.’
Poor princess! she wept and stormed and raved until she made herself quite ill; and then she
declared to her father that, unless she had bracelets and necklace to match the anklets she would die.
Again the king sent for Ameer Ali, and ordered him to [Pg 83] get a necklace and bracelets to match
those anklets within a month, or be put to a cruel death.
And again Ameer Ali spent nearly the whole month searching for the jewels, but all in vain. At
length he made his way to the hut in the forest, and stood and cried:
‘Fairy of the forest! Fairy of the forest! Help me! help me!’
Once more the beautiful maiden appeared at his summons and asked what he wanted, and when he
had told her she said he must do exactly as he had done the first time, except that now he must cut
off both her hands and her head. Her words turned Ameer Ali pale with horror; but she reminded
him that no harm had come to her before, and at last he consented to do as she bade him. From her
severed hands and head there fell into the cauldron bracelets and chains of rubies and diamonds,
emeralds and pearls that surpassed any that ever were seen. Then the head and hands were joined on
to the body, and left neither sign nor scar. Full of gratitude, Ameer Ali tried to speak to her, but she
ran into the house and would not come back, and he was forced to leave her and go away laden with
the jewels.
When, on the day appointed, Ameer Ali produced a necklace and bracelets each more beautiful and
priceless than the last, the king’s astonishment knew no bounds, and as for his daughter she was
nearly mad with joy. The very next morning she put on all her finery, and thought that now, at least,
that disagreeable parrot could find no fault with her appearance, and she listened eagerly when she
heard the starling say:
‘Oh, Toté, how do you think our princess is looking now?’
‘Very fine, no doubt,’ grumbled the parrot; ‘but what is the use of dressing up like that for oneself
only? She ought to have a husband—why doesn’t she marry the man who got her all these splendid
things?’
[Pg 84] Then the princess sent for her father and told him that she wished to marry Ameer Ali.
‘My dear child,’ said her father, ‘you really are very difficult to please, and want something new
every day. It certainly is time you married someone, and if you choose this man, of course he shall
marry you.’
So the king sent for Ameer Ali, and told him that within a month he proposed to do him the honour
of marrying him to the princess, and making him heir to the throne.
On hearing this speech Ameer Ali bowed low and answered that he had done and would do the king
all the service that lay in his power, save only this one thing. The king, who considered his
daughter’s hand a prize for any man, flew into a passion, and the princess was more furious still.
Ameer Ali was instantly thrown into the most dismal prison that they could find, and ordered to be
kept there until the king had time to think in what way he should be put to death.
Meanwhile the king determined that the princess ought in any case to be married without delay, so
he sent forth heralds throughout the neighbouring countries, proclaiming that on a certain day any
person fitted for a bridegroom and heir to the throne should present himself at the palace.
When the day came, all the court were gathered together, and a great crowd assembled of men,
young and old, who thought that they had as good a chance as anyone else to gain both the throne
and the princess. As soon as the king was seated, he called upon an usher to summon the first
claimant. But, just then, a farmer who stood in front of the crowd cried out that he had a petition to
offer.
‘Well, hasten then,’ said the king; ‘I have no time to waste.’
‘Your majesty,’ said the farmer, ‘has now lived and administered justice long in this city, and will
know that [Pg 85] the tiger who is king of beasts hunts only in the forest, whilst jackals hunt in
every place where there is something to be picked up.’
‘What is all this? what is all this?’ asked the king. ‘The man must be mad!’
‘No, your majesty,’ answered the farmer, ‘I would only remind your majesty that there are plenty of
jackals gathered to-day to try and claim your daughter and kingdom: every city has sent them, and
they wait hungry and eager; but do not, O king, mistake or pretend again to mistake the howl of a
jackal for the hunting cry of a tiger.’
The king turned first red and then pale.
‘There is,’ continued the farmer, ‘a royal tiger bred in the forest who has the first and only true
claim to your throne.’
‘Where? what do you mean?’ stammered the king, growing pale as he listened.
‘In prison,’ replied the farmer; ‘if your majesty will clear this court of the jackals I will explain.’
‘Clear the court!’ commanded the king; and, very unwillingly, the visitors left the palace.
‘Now tell me what riddle this is,’ said he.
Then the farmer told the king and his ministers how he had rescued the queen and brought up
Ameer Ali; and he fetched the old queen herself, whom he had left outside. At the sight of her the
king was filled with shame and self-reproach, and wished he could have lived his life over again,
and not have married the mother of the proud princess, who caused him endless trouble until her
death.
‘My day is past,’ said he. And he gave up his crown to his son Ameer Ali, who went once more and
called to the forest fairy to provide him with a queen to share his throne.
‘There is only one person I will marry,’ said he. And this time the maiden did not run away, but
agreed to be [Pg 86] his wife. So the two were married without delay, and lived long and reigned
happily.
As for the old woman whose pitcher Ameer Ali had broken, she was the forest maiden’s fairy
godmother, and when she was no longer needed to look after the girl she gladly returned to
fairyland.
The old king has never been heard to contradict his wife any more. If he even looks as if he does not
agree with her, she smiles at him and says:
‘Is it the tiger, then? or the jackal?’ And he has not another word to say.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] A galail is a double-stringed bow from which bullets or pellets of hard dried clay can be fired
with considerable force and precision.
[Pg 87]
Now the king of Lombardy was cousin to the Archduke of Placenza, who had lately lost his reason,
to the great grief of his son and daughter, Perarthrites and Ferrandina. The doctors having all failed
to restore him to health, the prince and princess sent a messenger to consult a famous enchantress,
called the Mother of Sheaths, because everyone who visited her brought with him a [Pg 88] knife,
which she thrust into one of the sheaths with which her cavern was lined. However, they obtained
little comfort from the witch, who bade them ‘seek their father’s wits in the place where he had lost
them.’ Against the wishes of the chief ministers, Perarthrites and Ferrandina rode off to the
mysterious castle where the king had slept when his terrible fate had overtaken him, and, once
inside the gates, nothing more was heard of them.
When three weeks had passed and still there was no news, the king’s chief minister called a council
to talk over the matter, and, at the end, it was decided that a company of distinguished persons
should visit the Mother of Sheaths, and that the knives they must take with them should be of pure
gold, richly set with precious stones. The witch was so pleased with the beauty of the gifts that she
not only listened attentively to their story, but proceeded to a hole in the cavern, from which she
drew out a little case containing a comb, and a steel collar, fastened by a gold key.
‘Carry this comb and the collar to every court until you find a lady beautiful enough to unlock the
collar, and a man good enough to draw the comb from its case. When you have discovered these,
you can return whence you came.’
‘But I do not see,’ said the chamberlain, ‘how that will help us to bring back our lost prince and
princess.’
‘It is all I can do for you,’ answered the Mother of Sheaths; and she went into the back of the
cavern, where they dared not follow her.
For the next few months the mad king’s principal ministers wandered from one court to another, till
at last they reached Lombardy, where they found that their story had already travelled before them.
As soon as they appeared [Pg 89] in the presence-chamber the king received them with open arms,
for in his heart he had no doubt that his wife was the peerless beauty destined to unfasten the collar.
And, indeed, if paint and hair-dye and magnificent dresses could have ensured her doing so, he
would certainly have been right. But, blinded by his love for this wicked woman, he had really no
idea that her charms were not her own.
At the appointed hour the queen entered the throne-room, having by her side the young princess, in
the most grievous plight imaginable. Her dress was so contrived as to give the idea that she had a
hump; her pink-and-white skin was thickly covered with yellow paint, and her black hair all hidden
by a close-fitting brown cloth cap. Murmurs of indignation rose on all sides, and the ambassadors,
who had frequently heard the princess compared to the lovely Ferrandina, were dumb with
astonishment. As for the king, he could hardly raise his eyes from the ground, so ashamed was he;
and signing to his son to take his place, he withdrew from the scene.
Mounting the throne, the prince commanded the trial to begin at once, and the collar was handed to
the princess’s governess, who, being one of the ugliest women that ever was seen, naturally failed to
turn the key. Seizing the chance of his being for a short time in power, the prince resolved to punish
her cruelties towards his sister, and especially this last one, to which she had prompted the queen,
and ordered her to be taken out and executed, which was done, with great good will, by the
attendants. He then further commanded the ladies in waiting to attend his sister to her apartments,
and bathe her and dress her in the queen’s most splendid robes, as she had none of her own; and the
queen, though gnashing her teeth with anger, for once dared not interfere. More quickly than could
have been expected, the princess returned, looking so beautiful that if anyone had doubted before
who would [Pg 90] be able to unlock the collar they were instantly convinced. The prince glanced at
her, but said nothing, and, signing to one of the ambassadors, he ordered him to make trial of the
comb. One by one each man present did his best to remove it from its case, and one by one each
was forced to own himself beaten. At length only the prince remained, but as he was the judge he
must wait till the last.
After the men had finished, the ladies of the court had the collar presented to them according to
rank, but none could even turn the key. Finally it was handed to the queen, who managed to open it
a little way. Her heart beat with triumph, but immediately it closed again with a snap, and she sank
back, fainting from disappointment.
By this time there were only left the prince and his sister; and no sooner did he touch the case than
it opened of itself, while the lock of the collar yielded directly the princess took hold of the key.
Cries of delight rose from the courtiers and attendants; but these were interrupted by a whirlwind
accompanied by thick darkness, and followed by an earthquake.
When all was calm again, and the sun shining, the prince and princess had disappeared.
Although the king’s son and daughter were the only persons who had vanished in the storm,
unluckily they had been carried off in opposite directions. The rapid motion through the air
deprived the princess of her senses, which she nearly lost a second time, from fright, when she was
set down alone in the middle of a thick forest. She ran wildly about, calling to her brother to come
to her aid; but her cries only attracted the attention of some hungry wolves, who sprung towards her
with their jaws gaping and their red tongues hanging out. Falling on her knees, she covered her face
with one hand unconsciously grasping the collar with the other, and awaited her doom. Already she
could feel their hot breath on [Pg 91] her cheek, and crouched lower and lower, when the eyes of
the foremost wolf caught sight of the collar. With a howl that echoed through the forest he bounded
away, followed by his companions.
As soon as the princess had recovered from the shock she rose and fled, without knowing whither,
until she found herself in a broad road, and beheld, approaching her, a flock of sheep driven by two
shepherds. She hastened towards them in order to implore their help, when suddenly the sheep
caught sight of her collar and instantly scattered in all directions.
‘I must have something about me which frightens all beasts,’ she thought, and took great comfort
therefrom; and in good spirits she went her way, till she came to the gates of an old castle. She was
just about to enter and beg for a night’s shelter, when a snow white fox ran across the road, and
stopped in front of her.
He was so pretty, and had such bright beseeching eyes, that the princess hastily tucked the collar
under her dress, lest he too should flee at the sight of it. Very gently she drew near, hoping he might
follow her into the castle, but he only set off in another direction, and, tired though she was,
something forced the girl to follow him. Thankful indeed was she when he turned a corner and sat
down before the door of a tiny palace, which was built on the bank of a river. When she came up he
took the hem of her dress between his teeth and led her into a room where there was a table covered
with milk and fruit. After she had eaten and drunk, she lay down upon a pile of cushions, with the
fox at her feet, and fell asleep to dream of her lost brother.
If the princess was dreaming of her brother, he was no less thinking of her, on the wild sea-shore,
whither the whirlwind had cast him. All was bleak and bare, except a green island which he could
only see from the top of a high rock where he passed all his days, gazing on the waving palm trees
and glittering waterfalls in the distance.
[Pg 92] ‘Suppose she should be there?’ he said to himself; and though there was no reason to expect
that the princess should be in that place more than in any other, he could not get the notion out of
his head.
A song, sung in the loveliest voice he had ever heard, roused the young man from his musings, and
he instantly turned in the direction from which it had come. But though the singer seemed close to
him he could see her nowhere, and indeed, no sooner had he reached one spot than the voice
sounded in another direction, and he followed it up and down, till he was suddenly stopped by the
sight of a large fish’s skin, which lay stretched on the sand between the sea and the rocks. The thing
was so ugly, that he stepped aside in disgust, and at that instant something leapt into the sea behind
his back. This caused him to look round. The fish’s skin was no longer there, but in a cave in the
rock behind it he discovered a bath of ebony lined with gold, which glittered in the sunlight.
Days passed without any adventures, and the prince had almost made up his mind to leave the
shore, and to seek his sister inland, when once more he heard the voice that had so charmed him,
and beheld the bloody skin lying on the sand, and the bath, now filled with water, in the grotto.
Little sleep had he that night, and before dawn he hid himself behind the rocks, determined not to
move from the place till the fish should come back again.
He had not very long to wait, for with the first rays of the sun there appeared, out to sea, a shining
white object which was blown by gentle breezes towards the shore. As it came nearer he beheld a
maiden, of dazzling loveliness, seated in a shell where blues and pinks and greens all melted into
each other. In her hand she held the rope with which the shell was guided.
The prince was so bewildered at her beauty that he forgot that he was in hiding, and, rushing out,
sank on [Pg 93] his knees on the sands, holding out his hands towards this wonderful vision. But as
he did so the comb and its case fell out of his pocket, and at the sight the lady uttered a wild shriek,
and, steering her shell round, vanished speedily in the direction of the island. Throwing off his
clothes, the prince was preparing to swim after her, when he perceived beside him a snow white
fox, looking the same way, and making frantic signs with his paws, till a small boat put out and set
sail towards them, to the great joy of the little creature.
When the boat drew up to the beach, the fox waved his paw towards the prince’s clothes, which he
took to mean that he was to put them on again. This done, they both got in, and had just pushed off,
when the prince suddenly recollected that the sight of the comb had frightened away the beautiful
lady. In a transport of fury he raised his hand to fling it into the sea, but the fox sprang on him and
held on so tightly to his arm that he could not lift it. At that moment a horseman on the shore let fly
an arrow at the fox, with so true an aim that the little creature fell heavily into the well of the boat,
and closed its eyes, like one who has received his death-blow. The grief of the prince was sore. He
instantly leaped to land, but the murderer was already far distant. When the young man turned
round again, the boat and the fox were nowhere to be seen.
An approaching storm drove him into the grotto, which was lighted up by a multitude of tapers,
each one being in the shape of a knife half out of its sheath. Over the bath was a tent-shaped
covering of white, embroidered with sheaths, and from beneath it came a voice:
‘Prince, will you trust me whatever happens, knowing that my heart is yours, and as I feel that yours
is mine? But, beware, for if you give the smallest sign of fear, when the tent is opened, you will lose
me for ever.’
She did well to warn him; and even then he had much ado to keep the colour in his cheeks and his
hand [Pg 94] from trembling, for a crocodile’s head with snapping jaws advanced towards him.
With a mighty effort he managed to remain still, and to gaze steadily at the horrible beast, and as he
did so, the head bent backwards, and beneath it was seen the lovely countenance of the Lady of the
Shell.
‘Quick! prince! quick! the time is flying, comb me at once or I shall vanish from your sight.’ At her
words he took out the comb, but found to his surprise that it needed all his strength to draw it from
its sheath. And, strange to say, that in proportion as the comb emerged from its sheath the lady’s
head was freed from its horrible covering, and her body rose a little more out of the water. When
her shoulders and arms were freed, she called to him:
‘Enough, so far you have obeyed my orders. Now burn my skin.’
‘Ah, that I can never do,’ cried he; but the lady cut him short.
‘Then we shall both rue it for ever,’ she said gravely; ‘for I can only be the wife of him who will
burn my skin.’ And while he still stood hesitating, the curtains of the tent fell back on her, and the
tapers fizzled out.
Bitterly repenting his slowness, he wandered towards the forest where a fire was burning, hardly
knowing what he did; but on his way he almost fell over the skin, which was lying across his path.
[Pg 95]
‘Ah, fool that I was! This must be the skin she wished me to burn,’ said he. And seizing it in both
hands he flung it into the fire, where it exploded with a terrific noise. At first he rushed off to some
distance, not knowing what might next befall, but after a while found that his steps had led him
back to the place of the fire. The skin had gone and left no traces, but among the cinders he beheld
something shining, which proved to be the magic collar. Ah! then his sister, for whom he had so
greatly longed, must be near at last! And before he could turn his head [Pg 97] or pick up the collar,
her arms were round his neck, and everything else was forgotten.
‘You shall tell your story first,’ she said, when at length they could speak. And so he did; but his
head was so full of the Lady of the Shell that he forgot to say anything about the fox. And it was
well that he had forgotten, for when the princess had poured forth her own adventures, she ended up
by speaking of all she owed to the little white fox.
‘You cannot even guess the care he took of me in the little palace. But though nothing could exceed
his kindness, I saw by his eyes that there was something he wanted me to give him, but I could not
tell what. Alas! the day came that I learnt it to my cost. I had hidden the collar in a thick bush, lest
the fox should catch sight of it and be scared away as the other animals had been. But, one day,
when we were in the garden, the sun happened to shine straight on it, and he sprang towards it with
every sign of delight. He was about to seize it between his teeth when it closed with a loud noise.
The fox fled away with a piercing scream, and though I have sought him far and wide, I have never
seen him since. I was here when you flung the skin into the cinders, and no doubt, in my hurry to
escape, the collar must have dropped from me. Ah, dear brother,’ she continued with tears in her
eyes, ‘I can no longer live without my beloved fox; help me, I entreat you, to find him.’
So great was her grief that the prince dared not tell her what sad fate had overtaken the poor little
animal, and trusted that time might soothe her. He assured her that he would go with her wherever
she desired if she would grant him this one day to spend on the sea-shore; and with this the princess
was forced to be content.
The prince was standing on the rock, looking out towards the lovely island, and straining his eyes to
see the white sail once more, when frightful shrieks from the wood a [Pg 98] little way off caused
him to hasten with all his speed in that direction. He soon perceived a knight on horseback with a
bow slung to his back, struggling to lift a woman on to his saddle. The knights’ surprise at the sight
of a man in this desolate spot caused him to drop the woman’s arm, and she rushed to take shelter
behind her defender, who, to his amazement, then recognised his step-mother.
‘How did you come here?’ he asked coldly, more than half regretting that he had not left her to her
fate; but she read what was in his heart, and fell on her knees before him.
‘Oh, forgive me my wickedness,’ she cried, ‘for indeed I have repented of it long ago, and come to
the aid of your father who has been sorely smitten by that mad archduke from whom you have just
saved me! There is no time to pursue him,’ she added, as the prince started at the sound of the
vanishing hoofs; and as they pushed their way along the path she told him all that had happened
since they had last met.
‘From the moment that the king knew of my cruelty to your sister,’ said she, ‘he vowed he would
never see me again, and left the court in search of you both. I followed him secretly, but not being
able to gain any tidings of him, consulted the Mother of Sheaths, who took me to rest in that island
where the palm trees are waving. There she showed me a lovely princess who, under a spell, was
forced daily to take the form of a crocodile, and when the dreaded moment arrived the skin
appeared before her, and, shudder as she might, some unseen power impelled her to wrap herself in
it and plunge into the sea. It is to this island I am leading you; but first we must find your sister, for
on her presence hangs the life of the white fox—if, indeed, he is not dead already.’
‘The white fox!’ exclaimed the prince. ‘What do you know of him?’
‘Not much,’ answered the queen; ‘but, since I arrived [Pg 99] on the island, he was always with us,
and charmed us all. Yesterday we missed him, but in the evening a little boat drifted up on the
sands, and in it lay the fox, covered with blood. While his wounds were being tended in the palace
with all the care imaginable, I set out to consult a wizard, who told me that I must enter the skiff
and seek for the prince and princess of Lombardy, and that if, in twenty-four hours, I could bring
them into the presence of the fox, his life would be saved. On a rock along the beach I found your
father with an arrow through his shoulder, from the bow of his cousin the mad archduke, who was
drawing another from his quiver, destined for me, when I fled into the forest!’
‘My father so near!’ cried the prince. ‘We must return and seek him, and also look for my sister.’
They found her in the grotto, with her father’s head in her lap, trying vainly to staunch his wounds.
Between them they contrived to carry him to the boat, which sailed swiftly towards the island. On
the way the prince gently broke to his sister the sad state of the white fox.
‘Take me to him!’ she said, as soon as the boat touched the island; and in silence the queen went
down the path to the palace.
The white fox was lying on a soft mattress in front of a fire, his eyes closed, and a look on his face
which told that death was not far distant. But he knew, somehow, that the princess was near him,
and opened his eyes and wagged his tail feebly. The princess burst into sobs and tears, till a hand on
her shoulder checked her.
‘Why do you waste the few moments that are left you in this manner?’ asked the governor of the
island sternly. ‘Place the collar you wear round his neck, and he will be cured at once. But you must
act quickly.’
The princess seemed turned to stone as she listened. [Pg 100] ‘The collar!’ she gasped. ‘But I have
not got it, I lost it in the forest!’ And the thousand sheaths with which the walls were hung took up
the cry:
‘The collar is lost! The collar is lost!’
‘What collar are you talking about?’ asked the king, who was lying on another bed, with the
physicians bending over him. ‘Here is one that I picked up among some cinders, before that
madman shot me—perhaps it may be the one you want, or, at all events, it may do as well.’ And he
signed to an attendant to take the collar from the pocket of his velvet jerkin.
The princess leapt forward with joy at the sight of the [Pg 101] precious thing, and snatching it from
the hand of the man she placed it round the neck of the fox. All present held their breath as they
watched what was happening; and what did happen was that his legs grew longer and longer, and
his nose grew shorter and shorter. The fox was gone, and in his stead there lay Perarthrites, in a coat
of thick white fur.
But though the prince of Lombardy was rejoiced to see his friend and cousin again, his heart still
bled for the beautiful lady who had vanished so mysteriously. His face was so troubled that the
governor of the island marked it, and asked what was the matter. ‘Oh! help me, if you can,’ cried the
prince. ‘The thought of the sufferings that the enchanted nymph may be undergoing tortures me!’
‘They are far worse than you can imagine,’ gravely replied the governor; ‘but if you still possess
your comb, you may yet relieve her of them. Ah! that is well,’ he continued, as the prince quickly
drew the comb from its case. ‘Now follow me.’
Not only the prince, but every one else followed; and the governor led them down a long gallery to
a heavy iron door, which flew open at its own accord. But what a sight met the prince’s eyes! The
lady whom he had last beheld in peerless beauty was sitting in a chair wrapped in flames, which
were twisting like hair about her head. Her face was swollen and red; her mouth was open as if
gasping for breath. Only her arms and neck were as lovely as ever in their whiteness.
‘This is your doing,’ said the governor to the prince; ‘you brought her to this when you burnt the
crocodile’s skin. Now try if, by combing, you can soothe her agony.’
At the first touch of the comb the flames became suddenly extinguished; at the second, the look of
pain vanished from the face, and it shrank into its usual size; at the third, she rose from the chair,
lovelier than she [Pg 102] ever was before, and flung herself into the arms of her brother
Perarthrites.
After this there was nothing more to be done but to marry the two couples as fast as possible. And
when the wedding was over, Perarthrites and his bride returned to Placenza, and Ferrandina and her
husband to Lombardy, and they all lived happily till they died.
(From Count Anthony Hamilton’s Fairy Tales.)
[Pg 103]
[Pg 108]
Not many weeks after, the dwellers in the village awoke to find that during the night their herds had
been driven away, and their herdsmen carried off into slavery by their enemies. Now was the time
for Samba to show the brave spirit that had come to him with his manhood, and to ride forth at the
head of the warriors of his race. But Samba could nowhere be found, and a party of the avengers
went on their way without him.
It was many days later before he came back, with his head held high, and a tale of a lion which he
had tracked to its lair and killed, at the risk of his own life. A little while earlier and his people
would have welcomed his story, and believed it all, but now it was too late.
‘Samba the Coward,’ cried a voice from the crowd; and the name stuck to him, even the very
children shouted it at him, and his father did not spare him. At length he could bear it no longer, and
made up his mind to leave his own land for another where peace had reigned since the memory of
man. So, early next morning, he slipped out to the king’s stables, and choosing the quietest horse he
could find, he rode away northwards.
Never as long as he lived did Samba forget the terrors of that journey. He could hardly sleep at night
for dread of the wild beasts that might be lurking behind every rock or bush, while, by day, the
distant roar of a lion would cause him to start so violently, that he almost fell from his horse. A
dozen times he was on the point of turning back, and it was not the terror of the mocking words and
scornful laughs that kept him from doing so, but the terror lest he should be forced to take part in
their wars. Therefore he held on, and deeply thankful he felt when the walls of a city, larger than he
had ever dreamed of, rose before him.
[Pg 110] Drawing himself up to his full height, he rode proudly through the gate and past the
palace, where, as was her custom, the princess was sitting on the terrace roof, watching the bustle in
the street below.
‘That is a gallant figure,’ thought she, as Samba, mounted on his big black horse, steered his way
skilfully among the crowds; and, beckoning to a slave, she ordered him to go and meet the stranger,
and ask him who he was and whence he came.
‘Oh, princess, he is the son of a king, and heir to a country which lies near the Great River,’
answered the slave, when he had returned from questioning Samba. And the princess on hearing this
news summoned her father, and told him that if she was not allowed to wed the stranger she would
die unmarried.
Like many other fathers, the king could refuse his daughter nothing, and besides, she had rejected
so many suitors already that he was quite alarmed lest no man should be good enough for her.
Therefore, after a talk with Samba, who charmed him by his good humour and pleasant ways, he
gave his consent, and three days later the wedding feast was celebrated with the utmost splendour.
The princess was very proud of her tall handsome husband, and for some time she was quite content
that he should pass the days with her under the palm trees, telling her the stories that she loved, or
amusing her with tales of the manners and customs of his country, which were so different to those
of her own. But, by-and-by, this was not enough; she wanted other people to be proud of him too,
and one day she said:
‘I really almost wish that those Moorish thieves from the north would come on one of their robbing
expeditions. I should love so to see you ride out at the head of our men, to chase them home again.
Ah, how happy I should be when the city rang with your noble deeds!’
[Pg 111]
[Pg 113] She looked lovingly at him as she spoke; but, to her surprise, his face grew dark, and he
answered hastily:
‘Never speak to me again of the Moors or of war. It was to escape from them that I fled from my
own land, and at the first word of invasion I should leave you for ever.’
‘How funny you are,’ cried she, breaking into a laugh. ‘The idea of anyone as big as you being
afraid of a Moor! But still, you mustn’t say those things to anyone except me, or they might think
you were in earnest.’
Not very long after this, when the people of the city were holding a great feast outside the walls of
the town, a body of Moors, who had been in hiding for days, drove off all the sheep and goats
which were peacefully feeding on the slopes of a hill. Directly the loss was discovered, which was
not for some hours, the king gave orders that the war drum should be beaten, and the warriors
assembled in the great square before the palace, trembling with fury at the insult which had been put
upon them. Loud were the cries for instant vengeance, and for Samba, son-in-law of the king, to
lead them to battle. But shout as they might, Samba never came.
And where was he? No further than in a cool, dark cellar of the palace, crouching among huge
earthenware pots of grain. With a rush of pain at her heart, there his wife found him, and she tried
with all her strength to kindle in him a sense of shame, but in vain. Even the thought of the future
danger he might run from the contempt of his subjects was as nothing when compared with the risks
of the present.
‘Take off your tunic of mail,’ said the princess at last; and her voice was so stern and cold that none
would have known it. ‘Give it to me, and hand me besides your helmet, your sword and your spear.’
And with many [Pg 114] fearful glances to right and to left, Samba stripped off the armour inlaid
with gold, the property of the king’s son-in-law. Silently his wife took, one by one, the pieces from
him, and fastened them on her with firm hands, never even glancing at the tall form of her husband
who had slunk back to his corner. When she had fastened the last buckle, and lowered her vizor, she
went out, and mounting Samba’s horse, gave the signal to the warriors to follow.
Now, although the princess was much shorter than her husband, she was a tall woman, and the horse
which she rode was likewise higher than the rest, so that when the men caught sight of the gold-
inlaid suit of chain armour, they did not doubt that Samba was taking his rightful place, and cheered
him loudly. The princess bowed in answer to their greeting, but kept her vizor down; and touching
her horse with the spur, she galloped at the head of her troops to charge the enemy. The Moors, who
had not expected to be so quickly pursued, had scarcely time to form themselves into battle array,
and were speedily put to flight. Then the little troop of horsemen returned to the city, where all sung
the praises of Samba their leader.
The instant they reached the palace the princess flung her reins to a groom, and disappeared up a
side staircase, by which she could, unseen, enter her own rooms. Here she found Samba lying idly
on a heap of mats; but he raised his head uneasily as the door opened and looked at his wife, not
feeling sure how she might act towards him. However, he need not have been afraid of harsh words:
she merely unbuttoned her armour as fast as possible, and bade him put it on with all speed. Samba
obeyed, not daring to ask any questions; and when he had finished the princess told him to follow
her, and led him on to the flat roof of the house, below which a crowd had gathered, cheering
lustily.
‘Samba, the king’s son-in-law! Samba, the bravest [Pg 115] of the brave! Where is he? Let him
show himself!’ And when Samba did show himself the shouts and applause became louder than
ever. ‘See how modest he is! He leaves the glory to others!’ cried they. And Samba only smiled and
waved his hand, and said nothing.
Out of all the mass of people assembled there to do honour to Samba, one alone there was who did
not shout and praise with the rest. This was the princess’s youngest brother, whose sharp eyes had
noted certain things during the fight which recalled his sister much more than they did her husband.
Under promise of secrecy, he told his suspicions to the other princes, but only got laughed at, and
was bidden to carry his dreams elsewhere.
‘Well, well,’ answered the boy, ‘we shall see who is right; but the next time we give battle to the
Moors I will take care to place a private mark on our commander.’
In spite of their defeat, not many days after the Moors sent a fresh body of troops to steal some
cattle, and again Samba’s wife dressed herself in her husband’s armour, and rode out at the head of
the avenging column. This time the combat was fiercer than before, and in the thick of it her
youngest brother drew near, and gave his sister a slight wound on the leg. At the moment she paid
no heed to the pain, which, indeed, she scarcely felt; but when the enemy had been put to flight and
the little band returned to the palace, faintness suddenly overtook her, and she could hardly stagger
up the staircase to her own apartments.
‘I am wounded,’ she cried, sinking down on the mats where he had been lying, ‘but do not be
anxious; it is really nothing. You have only got to wound yourself slightly in the same spot and no
one will guess that it was I and not you who were fighting.’
‘What!’ cried Samba, his eyes nearly starting from [Pg 116] his head in surprise and terror. ‘Can
you possibly imagine that I should agree to anything so useless and painful? Why, I might as well
have gone to fight myself!’
‘Ah, I ought to have known better, indeed,’ answered the princess, in a voice that seemed to come
from a long way off; but, quick as thought, the moment Samba turned his back she pierced one of
his bare legs with a spear.
He gave a loud scream and staggered backwards, from astonishment, much more than from pain.
But before he could speak his wife had left the room and had gone to seek the medicine man of the
palace.
‘My husband has been wounded,’ said she, when she had found him, ‘come and tend him with
speed, for he is faint from loss of blood.’ And she took care that more than one person heard her
words, so that all that day the people pressed up to the gate of the palace, asking for news of their
brave champion.
‘You see,’ observed the king’s eldest sons, who had visited the room where Samba lay groaning,
‘you see, O wise young brother, that we were right and you were wrong about Samba, and that he
really did go into the battle.’ But the boy answered nothing, and only shook his head doubtfully.
It was only two days later that the Moors appeared for the third time, and though the herds had been
tethered in a new and safer place, they were promptly carried off as before. ‘For,’ said the Moors to
each other, ‘the tribe will never think of our coming back so soon when they have beaten us so
badly.’
When the drum sounded to assemble all the fighting men, the princess rose and sought her husband.
‘Samba,’ cried she, ‘my wound is worse than I thought. I can scarcely walk, and could not mount
my horse without help. For to-day, then, I cannot do your work, so you must go instead of me.’
[Pg 117] ‘What nonsense,’ exclaimed Samba, ‘I never heard of such a thing. Why, I might be
wounded, or even killed! You have three brothers. The king can choose one of them.’
‘They are all too young,’ replied his wife; ‘the men would not obey them. But if, indeed, you will
not go, at least you can help me harness my horse.’ And to this Samba, who was always ready to do
anything he was asked when there was no danger about it, agreed readily.
So the horse was quickly harnessed, and when it was done the princess said:
‘Now ride the horse to the place of meeting outside the gates, and I will join you by a shorter way,
and will change places with you.’ Samba, who loved riding in times of peace, mounted as she had
told him, and when he was safe in the saddle, his wife dealt the horse a sharp cut with her whip, and
he dashed off through the town and through the ranks of the warriors who were waiting for him.
Instantly the whole place was in motion. Samba tried to check his steed, but he might as well have
sought to stop the wind, and it seemed no more than a few minutes before they were grappling hand
to hand with the Moors.
Then a miracle happened. Samba the coward, the skulker, the terrified, no sooner found himself
pressed hard, unable to escape, than something sprang into life within him, and he fought with all
his might. And when a man of his size and strength begins to fight he generally fights well.
That day the victory was really owing to Samba, and the shouts of the people were louder than ever.
When he returned, bearing with him the sword of the Moorish chief, the old king pressed him in his
arms and said:
‘Oh, my son, how can I ever show you how grateful I am for this splendid service?’
[Pg 118] But Samba, who was good and loyal when fear did not possess him, answered straightly:
‘My father, it is to your daughter and not to me to whom thanks are due, for it is she who has turned
the coward that I was into a brave man.’
(Contes Soudainais. Par C. Monteil.)
[Pg 119]
[Pg 131]
For some weeks the two lived together and never grew tired of each other’s society, and then a
terrible misfortune happened. One night, when the foster-mother lay sound asleep after a hard day’s
work, a big, ugly, wet frog hopped in through the open window and stood staring at Maia under her
quilt of rose leaves.
‘Dear me! that is quite a pretty little girl,’ thought the frog to herself; ‘she would make a nice wife
for my son.’ And picking up the walnut cradle in her mouth, she hopped with it to the edge of a
stream which ran through the garden.
‘Come and see what I have brought you,’ called the old frog, when she reached her home in the
mud.
‘Croak! croak! croak!’ uttered the son, gazing with pleasure at the sleeping child.
‘Hush; don’t make such a noise or you will wake her!’ whispered the mother. ‘I mean her to be a
wife for you, and while we are preparing for the wedding we will set her on that water-lily leaf in
the middle of the brook, so that she may not be able to run away from us.’
It was on this green floating prison that Maia awoke, frightened and puzzled, with the first rays of
the sun. She stood up straight on the leaf, looking about her for a way of escape, and, finding none,
she sat down again and began to weep bitterly. At length her sobs were heard by the old frog, who
was busy in her house at the bottom of the marsh, twisting rushes into a soft carpet for Maia’s feet,
and twining reeds and grapes over the doorway, to make it look pretty for the bride.
‘Ah! the poor child feels lost and unhappy,’ she thought pitifully, for her heart was kind. ‘Well, I
have just done, and then my son and I will go to fetch her. When she sees how handsome he is she
will be all smiles [Pg 134] again.’ And in a few minutes they both appeared beside the leaf.
‘This is your future husband. Did you ever see anyone like him?’ asked the proud mother, pushing
him forward. But, after one glance, Maia only cried the more; and the little fishes who lived in the
stream came swimming round to see what was the matter.
‘It is absurd that such a pretty creature should be forced to take a husband whom she does not want,’
said they to each other. ‘And such an ugly one too! However, we can easily prevent it.’ And by turns
they gnawed the stem of the lily-leaf close to the root, till at length it was free, and taking it in their
mouths they bore Maia far away, till the little stream grew into a great river.
Oh, how Maia enjoyed that voyage, when once she became quite certain that the frogs could no
longer reach her. Past many towns she went, and the people on the banks all turned to look at her,
and exclaimed:
‘What a lovely little girl! Where can she have come from?’
‘What a lovely little girl!’ twittered the birds in the bushes. And a blue butterfly fell in love with her,
and would not leave her; so she took off her sash, which just matched him, and tied it round his
body, so that with this new kind of horse she travelled much faster than before.
Unluckily, a great cockchafer, who was buzzing over the river, happened to catch sight of her, and
caught her up in his claws. The poor butterfly was terribly frightened at the sight of him, and he
struggled hard to free himself, so that the sash bow gave way, and he flew off into the sunshine. But
Maia wasn’t so fortunate, and though the cockchafer collected honey from the flowers for her
dinner, and told her several times how pretty she was, she could not feel at ease with him. The
cockchafer noticed this, and summoned his sisters [Pg 135] to play with her; but they only stared
rudely, and said:
‘Where did you pick up that strange object? She is very ugly to be sure, but one ought to pity her for
she has only two legs.’
‘Yes, and no feelers,’ added another; ‘and she is so thin! Well, our brother has certainly very odd
taste!’
‘Indeed he has!’ echoed the others. And they repeated it so loud and so often that, in the end, he
believed it too, and snatching her up from the tree where he had placed her, set her down upon a
daisy which grew near the ground.
Here Maia stayed for the whole summer, and really was not at all unhappy. She ventured to walk
about by herself, and wove herself a bed of some blades of grass, and placed it under a clover leaf
for shelter. The red cups that grew in the moss held as much dew as she wanted, and the cockchafer
had taught her how to get honey. But summer does not last for ever, and by-and-by the [Pg 136]
flowers withered, and instead of dew there was snow and ice. Maia did not know what to do, for her
clothes were worn to rags, and though she tried to roll herself up in a dry leaf it broke under her
fingers. It soon was plain to her that if she did not get some other shelter she would die of hunger
and cold.
So, gathering up all her courage, she left the forest and crossed the road into what had been, in the
summer, a beautiful field of waving corn, but was now only a mass of hard stalks. She wandered on,
seeing nothing but the sky above her head, till she suddenly found herself close to an opening which
seemed to lead underground.
‘It will be warm, at any rate,’ thought Maia, ‘and perhaps the person who lives there will give me
something to eat. At any rate, I can’t be worse off than I am now.’ And she walked boldly down the
passage. By-and-by she came to a door which stood ajar, and, peeping in, discovered a whole room
full of corn. This gave her heart, and she went on more swiftly, till she reached a kitchen where an
old field mouse was baking a cake.
‘You poor little animal,’ cried the mouse, who had never seen anything like her before, ‘you look
starved to death! Come and sit here and get warm, and share my dinner with me.’
Maia almost wept with joy at the old mouse’s kind words. She needed no second bidding, but ate
more than she had ever done in her life, though it was not a breakfast for a humming-bird! When
she had quite finished she put out her hand and smiled, and the old mouse said to her:
‘Can you tell stories? If so you may stay with me till the sun gets hot again, and you shall help me
with my house. But it is dull here in the winter unless you have somebody clever enough to amuse
you.’
Yes, Maia had learned a great many stories from her [Pg 137] foster-mother, and, besides, there
were all her own adventures, and her escapes from death. She knew also how a room should be
swept, and never failed to get up early in the morning and have everything clean and tidy for the old
mouse.
So the winter passed away pleasantly, and Maia began to talk of the spring, and of the time when
she would have to go out into the world again and seek her fortune.
‘Oh, you need not begin to think of that for a while yet,’ answered the field-mouse. ‘Up on the earth
they have a proverb:
When the day lengthens Then the cold strengthens;
it has been quite warm up to now, and the snow may fall any time. Never a winter goes by without
it, and then you will be very thankful you are here, and not outside! But I dare say it is quiet for a
young thing like you,’ she added, ‘and I have invited my neighbour the mole to come and pay us a
visit. He has been asleep all these months, but I hear he is waking up again. You would be a lucky
girl if he took into his head to marry you, only, unfortunately, he is blind, and cannot see how pretty
you are.’ And for this blindness Maia felt truly glad, as she did not want a mole for a husband.
However, by-and-by he paid his promised visit, and Maia did not like him at all. He might be as
rich and learned as possible, but he hated the sun, and the trees, and the flowers, and all that Maia
loved best. To be sure, being blind, he had never seen them, and, like many other people, he thought
that anything he did not know was not worth knowing. But Maia’s tales amused him, though he
would not for the world have let her see it, and he admired her voice when she sang:
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow?
Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree-top;
[Pg 138] though he told her that it was all nonsense, and that trees and gardens were mere
foolishness. When she was his wife he would teach her things better worth learning.
‘Meanwhile,’ he said, with a grand air, ‘I have burrowed a passage from this house to my own, in
which you can walk; but I warn you not to be frightened at a great dead creature that has fallen
through a hole in the roof, and is lying on one side.’
‘What sort of creature is it?’ asked Maia eagerly.
‘Oh, I really can’t tell you,’ answered the mole, indifferently; ‘it is covered with something soft, and
it has two thin legs, and a long sharp thing sticking out of its head.’
‘It is a bird,’ cried Maia joyfully, ‘and I love birds! It must have died of cold,’ she added, dropping
her voice. ‘Oh! good Mr. Mole, do take me to see it!’
‘Come then, as I am going home,’ replied the mole. And calling to the old field-mouse to
accompany them, they all set out.
‘Here it is,’ said the mole at last; ‘dear me, how thankful I am Fate did not make me a bird. They
can’t say anything but “twit, twit,” and die with the first breath of cold.’
‘Ah, yes, poor useless creature,’ answered the field-mouse. But while they were talking, Maia crept
round to the other side and stroked the feathers of the little swallow, and kissed his eyes.
All that night she lay awake, thinking of the swallow lying dead in the passage. At length she could
bear it no longer, and stole away to the place where the hay was kept, and wove a thick carpet. Next
she went to the field-mouse’s store of cotton which she picked in the summer from some of the
marsh flowers, and carrying them both down the passage, she tucked the cotton underneath the bird
and spread the hay quilt over him.
‘Perhaps you were one of the swallows who sang to [Pg 139] me in the summer,’ said she. ‘I wish I
could have brought you to life again; but now, good-bye!’ And she laid her face, wet with tears, on
the breast of the bird. Surely she felt a faint movement against her cheek? Yes, there it was again!
Suppose the bird was not dead after all, but only senseless with cold and hunger! And at this
thought Maia hastened back to the house, and brought some grains of corn, and a drop of water in a
leaf. This she held close to the swallow’s beak, which he opened unconsciously, and when he had
sipped the water she gave him the grains one by one.
‘Make no noise, so that no one may guess you are not dead,’ she said. ‘To-night I will bring you
some more food, and I will tell the mole that he must stuff up the hole again, as it makes the
passage too cold for me to walk in. And now farewell.’ And off she went, back to the field-mouse,
who was sound asleep.
After some days of Maia’s careful nursing, the swallow felt strong enough to talk, and he told Maia
how he came to be in the place where she found him. Before he was big enough to fly very high he
had torn his wing in a rosebush, so that he could not keep up with his family and friends when they
took their departure to warmer lands. In their swift course they never noticed that their little brother
was not with them, and at last he dropped on the ground from sheer fatigue, and must have rolled
down the hole into the passage.
It was very lucky for the swallow that both the mole and the field-mouse thought he was dead, and
did not trouble about him, so that when the spring really came, and the sun was hot, and blue
hyacinths grew in the woods and primroses in the hedges, he was as tall and strong as any of his
companions.
‘You have saved my life, dear little Maia,’ said he; ‘but now the time has come for me to leave you
—unless,’ [Pg 140] he added, ‘you will let me carry you on my back far away from this gloomy
prison.’
Maia’s eyes sparkled at the thought, but she shook her head bravely.
‘Yes, you must go; but I must stay behind,’ she answered. ‘The field-mouse has been good to me,
and I cannot desert her like that. Do you think you can open the hole for yourself?’ she asked
anxiously. ‘If so, you had better begin now, for this evening we are to have supper with the mole,
and it would never do for my foster-mother to find you working at it.’
‘That is true,’ answered the swallow. And flying up to the roof,—which, after all, was not very high
above them—he set to work with his bill, and soon let a flood of sunshine into the dark place.
‘Won’t you come with me, Maia?’ said he. And though her heart longed for the trees and the
flowers, she answered as before:
‘No, I cannot.’
That one glimpse of the sun was all Maia had for some time, for the corn sprung up so thickly over
the hole and about the house, that there might almost as well have been no sun at all. However,
though she missed her bird friend every moment, she had no leisure to be idle, for the field-mouse
had told her that very soon she was to be married to the mole, and kept her spinning wool and
cotton for her outfit. And as she had never in her life made a dress, four clever spiders were
persuaded to spend the days underground, turning the wool and cotton into tiny garments. Maia
liked the clothes, but hated the thought of the blind mole, only she did not know how to escape him.
In the evenings, when the spiders were going to their homes for the night, she would walk with
them to the door and wait till a puff of wind blew the corn ears apart, and she could see the sky.
‘If the swallow would only come now,’ she said to herself, [Pg 141] ‘I would go with him to the end
of the world.’ But he never came!
‘Your outfit is all finished,’ said the field-mouse one day when the berries were red and the leaves
yellow, ‘and the mole and I have decided that your wedding shall be in four weeks’ time.’
‘Oh, not so soon! not so soon!’ cried Maia, bursting into tears; which made the field-mouse very
angry, and declare that Maia had no more sense than other girls, and did not know what was good
for her. Then the mole arrived, and carried her on his back to see the new house he had dug for her,
which was so very far under ground that Maia’s tiny legs could never bring her up even as high as
the field-mouse’s dwelling, from which she might see the sunlight. Her heart grew heavier and
heavier as the days went by, and in the last evening of all she crept [Pg 142] out into the field
among the stubble, to watch the sun set before she bade it good-bye for ever.
‘Farewell, farewell,’ she said ‘and farewell to my little swallow. Ah! if he only knew, he would
come to help me.’
‘Twit! twit,’ cried a voice just above her; and the swallow fluttered to the ground beside her. ‘You
look sad; are you really going to let that ugly mole marry you?’
‘I shall soon die, that is one comfort,’ she answered weeping. But the swallow only said:
‘Tut! tut! get on my back, as I told you before, and I will take you to a land where the sun always
shines, and you will soon forget that such a creature as a mole ever existed.’
[Pg 143] ‘Yes, I will come,’ said Maia.
Then the swallow tore off one of the corn stalks with his strong beak, and bade her tie it safely to
his wing. And they started off, flying, flying south for many a day.
Oh! how happy Maia was to see the beautiful earth again! A hundred times she longed for the
swallow to stop, but he always told her that the best was yet to be; and they flew on and on, only
halting for short rests, till they reached a place covered with tall white marble pillars, some standing
high, wreathed in vines, out of which endless swallows’ heads were peeping; others lying stretched
among the flowers, white, yellow, and blue.
‘I live up there,’ said the swallow, pointing to the tallest of the pillars. ‘But such a house would
never do for you, as you would only fall out of it and kill yourself. So choose one of those flowers
below, and you shall have it for your own, and sleep all night curled up in its leaves.’
‘I will have that one,’ answered Maia, pointing to a white flower shaped like a star, with a tiny
crinkled wreath of red and yellow in its centre, and a long stem that swayed in the wind; ‘that one is
the prettiest of all, and it smells so sweet.’ Then the swallow flew down towards it; but as they drew
near they saw a tiny little manikin with a crown on his head, and wings on his shoulders, balancing
himself on one of the leaves. ‘Ah, that is the king of the flower-spirits,’ whispered the swallow. And
the king stretched out his hands to Maia, and helped her to jump from the swallow’s back.
‘I have waited for you for a long while,’ said he, ‘and now you have come at last to be my queen.’
And Maia smiled, and stood beside him as all the fairies that dwelt in the flowers ran to fetch
presents for her; and the best of them all was a pair of lovely gauzy blue wings to help fly about like
one of themselves.
So instead of marrying the mole, Little Maia was crowned a queen, and the fairies danced round her
in a ring, while the swallow sang the wedding song.
[Pg 144]
Meanwhile the merchant’s companions in the market-place, being dull-witted persons, thought that
as he did not return he must have gone home by himself; and as soon as they were tired of waiting
they went back to their village and left him to look after his own affairs. He would therefore have
fared badly had it not been for his rescuer, Kooshy Ram, who, whilst still a boy, had been left a
great deal of money with no one to advise him how to spend it. He was high-spirited, kind-hearted,
and shrewd into the bargain; but he threw away his money like water, and generally upon the
nearest thing or person in his way, and that, alas! most often was himself! Now, however, he had
taken it into his head to befriend this miserable merchant, and he meant to do it; and on his side the
merchant felt confidence revive, and without further ado told all that had happened.
Kooshy Ram laughed heartily at the idea of any stranger entrusting his wealth to Beeka Mull.
‘Why, he is the greatest rascal in the city,’ he cried, ‘unless you believe what some of them say of
me! Well, [Pg 149] there is nothing to be done for the present, but just to stay here quietly, and I
think that at the end of a short time I shall find a medicine which will heal your sickness.’ At this the
merchant again took courage, and a little ease crept into his heart as he gratefully accepted his new
friend’s invitation.
A few days later Kooshy Ram sent for some friends to see him, and talked with them long, and,
although the merchant did not hear the conversation, he did hear shouts of laughter as though at
some good joke; but the laughter echoed dully in his own heart, for the more he considered the
more he despaired of ever recovering his fortune from the grasp of Beeka Mull.
One day, soon after this, Kooshy Ram came to him and said:
‘You remember the wall where I found you that night, near Beeka Mull’s shop?’
‘Yes, indeed I do,’ answered the merchant.
‘Well,’ continued Kooshy Ram, ‘this afternoon you must go and stand in that same spot and watch;
and when someone gives you a signal, you must go up to Beeka Mull and salute him and say, “Oh,
Lala-ji, will you kindly let me have back that box of mine which you have on trust?”’
‘What’s the use of that?’ asked the merchant. ‘He won’t do it any more now than he would when I
asked him before.’
‘Never mind!’ replied Kooshy Ram, ‘do exactly what I tell you, and repeat exactly what I say, word
for word, and I will answer for the rest.’
So, that afternoon, the merchant at a certain time went and stood by the wall as he was told. He
noticed that Beeka Mull saw him, but neither took any heed of the other. Presently up the bazaar
came a gorgeous palanquin like those in which ladies of rank are carried about. It was borne by four
bearers well dressed in rich liveries, and its curtains and trappings were truly magnificent. [Pg 150]
In attendance was a grave-looking personage whom the merchant recognized as one of the friends
who visited Kooshy Ram; and behind him came a servant with a box covered with a cloth upon his
head.
The palanquin was borne along at a smart pace and was set down at Beeka Mull’s shop. The fat
shop-keeper was on his feet at once, and bowed deeply as the gentleman in attendance advanced.
‘May I inquire,’ he said, ‘who this is in the palanquin that deigns to favour my humble shop with a
visit? And what may I do for her?’
The gentleman, after whispering at the curtain of the palanquin, explained that this was a relative of
his who was travelling, but as her husband could go no further with her, she desired to leave with
Beeka Mull a box of jewels for safe custody. Lala bowed again to the ground. ‘It was not,’ he said,
‘quite in his way of business; but of course, if he could please the lady, he would be most happy,
and would guard the box with his life.’ Then the servant carrying the box was called up; the box
was unlocked, and a mass of jewellery laid open to the gaze of the enraptured Lala, whose mouth
watered as he turned over the rich gems.
All this the merchant had watched from the distance, and now he saw—could he be mistaken?—no,
he distinctly saw a hand beckoning through the curtain on that side of the palanquin away from the
shop. ‘The signal! Was this the signal?’ thought he. The hand beckoned again, impatiently it seemed
to him. So forward he went, very quietly, and saluting Beeka Mull, who was sitting turning over the
contents of this amazing box of jewels which fortune and some fools were putting into his care, he
said:
‘Oh, Lala-ji, will you kindly let me have back that box of mine which you have on trust?’
The Lala looked up as though he had been stung; but quickly the thought flashed through his mind
that if this [Pg 151] man began making a fuss again he would lose the confidence of these new and
richer customers; so he controlled himself, and answered:
‘Dear me, of course, yes! I had forgotten all about it.’ And he went off and brought the little box and
put it into the merchant’s trembling hands. Quickly the latter pulled out the key, which hung by a
string round his neck, and opened the box; and when he saw that his treasures were all there he
rushed into the road, and, with the box under his arm, began dancing like a madman, with great
shouts and screams of laughter. Just then a messenger came running up and, saluting the gentleman
attending the palanquin, he said:
‘The lady’s husband has returned, and is prepared to travel with her, so that there is no necessity to
deposit the jewels.’ Whereat the gentleman quickly closed and relocked the box, and handed it back
to the waiting servant. Then from the palanquin came a yell of laughter, and out jumped—not a lady
—but Kooshy Ram, who immediately ran and joined the merchant in the middle of the road and
danced as madly as he. Beeka Mull stood and stared stupidly at them; then, with a shrill cackle of
laughter, he flung off his turban, bounced out into the road with the other two, and fell to dancing
and snapping his fingers until he was out of breath.
‘Lala-ji,’ said the gentleman who had played the part of the relative attendant on the palanquin,
‘why do you dance? The merchant dances because he has recovered his fortune; Kooshy Ram
dances because he is a madman and has tricked you; but why do you dance?’
‘I dance,’ panted Beeka Ram, glaring at him with a bloodshot eye, ‘I dance because I knew thirteen
different ways of deceiving people by pretending confidence in them. I didn’t know there were any
more, and now here’s a fourteenth! That’s why I dance!’
(Punjâbi Story, Major Campbell, Feroshepore.)
FOOTNOTE:
[3] ‘Lala’ is a complimentary title: ‘ji’ a polite affix; the expression is somewhat equivalent to ‘Dear
Sir.’
[Pg 152]
‘Nonsense!’ replied the queen crossly. But she was dreadfully vexed at the mere idea, as her own
daughter was still unmarried, and was likely to remain so, because she was so ill-tempered and
stupid that no one wanted her.
[Pg 160] ‘It is true,’ persisted the girl. ‘He is dressed all in green, and is very handsome. I saw him
myself, though he did not see me, and he got into a boat and rowed over to the island, and the
princess was waiting for him at the castle door.’
‘I must find out what this means,’ thought the queen. But she bade her maid of honour cease
chattering and mind her own business.
Early next morning the queen got up and went down to the shore of the lake, where she hid herself
behind a tree. Sure enough there came a handsome knight dressed in green, just as the maid of
honour had said, and he got into a boat and rowed over to the island where the princess awaited
him. The angry queen remained by the lake all day, but it was not until the evening that the knight
returned, and leaping on shore, he tied the boat to its moorings and went away through the forest.
‘I have caught my step-daughter nicely,’ thought the queen. ‘But she shall not be married before my
own sweet girl. I must find a way to put a stop to this.’
Accordingly she took a poisoned nail and stuck it in the handle of the oar in such a way that the
knight would be sure to scratch his hand when he picked up the oar. Then she went home laughing,
very much pleased with her cleverness.
The next day the Green Knight went to visit the princess as usual; but directly he took up the oars to
row over to the island he felt a sharp scratch on his hand.
‘Oof!’ he said, dropping the oars from pain, ‘what can have scratched so?’ But, look as he might,
only a tiny mark was to be seen.
‘Well, it’s strange how a nail could have come here since yesterday,’ he thought. ‘Still, it is not very
serious, though it hurts a good deal.’ And, indeed, it seemed such a little thing that he did not
mention it to the [Pg 161] princess. However, when he reached home in the evening, he felt so ill he
was obliged to go to bed, with no one to attend on him except his old nurse. But of this, of course,
the princess knew nothing; and the poor girl, fearing lest some evil should have befallen him, or
some other maiden more beautiful than she should have stolen his heart from her, grew almost sick
with waiting. Lonely, indeed, she was, for her father, who would have helped her, was travelling in
a foreign country, and she knew not how to obtain news of her lover.
In this manner time passed away, and one day, as she sat by the open window crying and feeling
very sad, a little bird came and perched on the branch of a tree that stood just underneath. It began
to sing, and so beautifully that the princess was obliged to stop crying and listen to it, and very soon
she found out that the bird was trying to attract her attention.
‘Tu-whit, tu-whit! your lover is sick!’ it sang.
‘Alas!’ cried the princess. ‘What can I do?’
‘Tu-whit, tu-whit! you must go to your father’s palace!’
‘And what shall I do there?’ she asked.
‘Tu-whit! there you will find a snake with nine young ones.’
‘Ugh!’ answered the princess with a shiver, for she did not like snakes. But the little bird paid no
heed.
‘Put them in a basket and go to the Green Knight’s palace,’ said she.
‘And what am I to do with them when I get there?’ she cried, blushing all over, though there was no
one to see her but the bird.
‘Dress yourself as a kitchen-maid and ask for a place. Tu-whit! Then you must make soup out of the
snakes. Give it three times to the knight and he will be cured. Tu-whit!’
[Pg 162] ‘But what has made him ill?’ asked the princess. The bird, however, had flown away, and
there was nothing for it but to go to her father’s palace and look for the snakes. When she came
there she found the mother snake with the nine little snakes all curled up so that you could hardly
tell their heads from their tails. The princess did not like having to touch them, but when the old
snake had wriggled out of the nest to bask a little in the sun, she picked up the young ones and put
them in a basket as the bird had told her, and ran off to find the Green Knight’s castle. All day she
walked along, sometimes stopping to pick the wild berries, or to gather a nosegay; but though she
rested now and then, she would not lie down to sleep before she reached the castle. At last she came
in sight of it, and just then she met a girl driving a flock of geese.
‘Good-day!’ said the princess; ‘can you tell me if this is the castle of the Green Knight?’
‘Yes, that it is,’ answered the goose girl, ‘for I am driving his geese. But the Green Knight is very
ill, and they say that unless he can be cured within three days he will surely die.’
At this news the princess grew as white as death. The ground seemed to spin round, and she closed
her hand tight on a bush that was standing beside her. By-and-by, with a great effort, she recovered
herself and said to the goose girl:
‘Would you like to have a fine silk dress to wear?’
The goose girl’s eyes glistened.
‘Yes, that I would!’ answered she.
‘Then take off your dress and give it to me, and I will give you mine,’ said the princess.
[Pg 163]
The girl could scarcely believe her ears, but the princess was already unfastening her beautiful silk
dress, and taking off her silk stockings and pretty red shoes; and the goose girl lost no time in
slipping out of her rough linen skirt and tunic. Then the princess put on the other’s [Pg 165] rags
and let down her hair, and went to the kitchen to ask for a place.
‘Do you want a kitchen-maid?’ she said.
‘Yes, we do,’ answered the cook, who was too busy to ask the new-comer many questions.
The following day, after a good night’s rest, the princess set about her new duties. The other
servants were speaking of their master, and saying to each other how ill he was, and that unless he
could be cured within three days he would surely die.
The princess thought of the snakes, and the bird’s advice, and lifting her head from the pots and
pans she was scouring, she said: ‘I know how to make a soup that has such a wonderful power that
whoever tastes it is sure to be cured, whatever his illness may be. As the doctors cannot cure your
master shall I try?’
At first they all laughed at her.
‘What! a scullion cure the knight when the best physicians in the kingdom have failed?’
But at last, just because all the physicians had failed, they decided that it would do no harm to try;
and she ran off joyfully to fetch her basket of snakes and make them into broth. When this was
ready she carried some to the knight’s room and entered it boldly, pushing aside all the learned
doctors who stood beside his bed. The poor knight was too ill to know her, besides, she was so
ragged and dirty that he would not have been likely to do so had he been well; but when he had
taken the soup he was so much better that he was able to sit up.
The next day he had some more, and then he was able to dress himself.
‘That is certainly wonderful soup!’ said the cook.
The third day, after he had eaten his soup, the knight was quite well again.
‘Who are you?’ he asked the girl; ‘was it you who made this soup that has cured me?’
‘Yes,’ answered the princess.
[Pg 166] ‘Choose, then, whatever you wish as a reward,’ said the knight, ‘and you shall have it.’
‘I would be your bride!’ said the princess.
The knight frowned in surprise at such boldness, and shook his head.
‘That is the one thing I cannot grant,’ he said, ‘for I am pledged to marry the most beautiful princess
in the world. Choose again.’
Then the princess ran away and washed herself and mended her rags, and when she returned the
Green Knight recognised her at once.
You can think what a joyful meeting that was!
Soon after, they were married with great splendour. All the knights and princes in the kingdom were
summoned to the wedding, and the princess wore a dress that shone like the sun, so that no one had
ever beheld a more gorgeous sight. The princess’s father, of course, was present, but the wicked
queen and her daughter were driven out of the country, and as nobody has seen them since, very
likely they were eaten by wild beasts in the forest. But the bride and bridegroom were so happy that
they forgot all about them, and they lived with the old king till he died, when they succeeded him.
(From “Eventyr fra Jylland,” samlede og optegnede af Evald Tang Kristensen. Translated from the
Danish by Mrs. Skovgaard-Pedersen.)
[Pg 167]
FOOTNOTE:
[4] A Hindu religious teacher or saint; in this case a Sikh.
[Pg 178]
After a voyage of several weeks, he arrived at the island of which his mother had spoken. It was full
of hills and woods and flowers, and beautiful white houses stood everywhere in gardens.
‘What a charming spot to live in,’ thought the prince. And he lost no time in buying one of the
prettiest of the dwellings.
Then servants came pressing to offer their services; but as they all declared that they must have
payment at the end of every month, the young man, who remembered his mother’s words, declined
to have anything to say to them. At length, one morning, an Arab appeared and begged that the
prince would engage him.
‘And what wages do you ask?’ inquired the prince, when he had questioned the new-comer and
found him suitable.
‘I do not want money,’ answered the Arab; ‘at the end of a year you can see what my services are
worth to you, and can pay me in any way you like.’ And the young man was pleased, and took the
Arab for his servant.
Now, although no one would have guessed it from the look of the side of the island where the prince
had landed, the other part was a complete desert, owing to the ravages of a horrible monster which
came up from the sea, and devoured all the corn and cattle. The governor had sent bands of soldiers
to lie in wait for the creature in order to kill it; but, somehow, no one ever happened to be awake
[Pg 183] at the moment that the ravages were committed. It was in vain that the sleepy soldiers
were always punished severely—the same thing invariably occurred next time; and at last heralds
were sent throughout the island to offer a great reward to the man who could slay the monster.
As soon as the Arab heard the news, he went straight to the governor’s palace.
‘If my master can succeed in killing the monster, what reward will you give him?’ asked he.
‘My daughter and anything besides that he chooses,’ answered the governor. But the Arab shook his
head.
‘Give him your daughter and keep your wealth,’ said he; ‘but, henceforward, let her share in your
gains, whatever they are.’
‘It is well,’ replied the governor; and ordered a deed to be prepared, which was signed by both of
them.
That night the Arab stole down to the shore to watch, but, before he set out, he rubbed himself all
over with some oil which made his skin smart so badly that there was no chance of his going to
sleep as the soldiers had done. Then he hid himself behind a large rock and waited. By-and-by a
swell seemed to rise on the water, and, a few minutes later, a hideous monster—part bird, part beast,
and part serpent—stepped noiselessly on to the rocks. It walked stealthily up towards the fields, but
the Arab was ready for it, and, as it passed, plunged his dagger into the soft part behind the ear. The
creature staggered and gave a loud cry, and then rolled over dead, with its feet in the sea.
The Arab watched for a little while, in order to make sure that there was no life left in his enemy,
but as the huge body remained quite still, he quitted his hiding-place, and cut off the ears of his foe.
These he carried to his master, bidding him show them to the governor, and declare that he himself,
and no other, had killed the monster.
[Pg 184] ‘But it was you, and not I, who slew him,’ objected the prince.
‘Never mind; do as I bid you. I have a reason for it,’ answered the Arab. And though the young man
did not like taking credit for what he had never done, at length he gave in.
The governor was so delighted at the news that he begged the prince to take his daughter to wife
that very day; but the prince refused, saying that all he desired was a ship which would carry him to
see the world. Of course this was granted him at once, and when he and his faithful Arab embarked
they found, heaped up in the vessel, stores of diamonds and precious stones, which the grateful
governor had secretly placed there.
So they sailed, and they sailed, and they sailed; and at length they reached the shores of a great
kingdom. Leaving the prince on board, the Arab went into the town to find out what sort of a place
it was. After some hours he returned, saying that he heard that the king’s daughter was the most
beautiful princess in the world, and that the prince would do well to ask for her hand.
Nothing loth, the prince listened to this advice, and taking some of the finest necklaces in his hand,
he mounted a splendid horse which the Arab had bought for him, and rode up to the palace, closely
followed by his faithful attendant.
The strange king happened to be in a good humour, and they were readily admitted to his presence.
Laying down his offerings on the steps of the throne, he prayed the king to grant him his daughter in
marriage.
The monarch listened to him in silence; but answered, after a pause:
‘Young man, I will give you my daughter to wife, if that is your wish; but first I must tell you that
she has already gone through the marriage ceremony with a hundred and ninety young men, and not
one of them [Pg 185] lived for twelve hours after. So think, while there is yet time.’
The prince did think, and was so frightened that he very nearly went back to his ship without any
more words. But just as he was about to withdraw his proposal the Arab whispered:
‘Fear nothing, but take her.’
‘The luck must change some time,’ he said, at last; ‘and who would not risk his head for the hand of
such a peerless princess?’
‘As you will,’ replied the king. ‘Then I will give orders that the marriage shall be celebrated to-
night.’
And so it was done; and after the ceremony the bride and bridegroom retired to their own
apartments to sup by themselves, for such was the custom of the country. The moon shone bright,
and the prince walked to the window to look out upon the river and upon the distant hills, when his
gaze suddenly fell on a silken shroud neatly laid out on a couch, with his name embroidered in gold
thread across the front; for this also was the pleasure of the king.
Horrified at the spectacle, he turned his head away, and this time his glance rested on a group of
men, digging busily beneath the window. It was a strange hour for any one to be at work, and what
was the hole for? It was a curious shape, so long and narrow, almost like—— Ah! yes, that was
what it was! It was his grave that they were digging!
The shock of the discovery rendered him speechless, yet he stood fascinated and unable to move. At
this moment a small black snake darted from the mouth of the princess, who was seated at the table,
and wriggled quickly towards him. But the Arab was watching for something of the sort to happen,
and seizing the serpent with some pincers that he held in one hand, he cut off its head with a sharp
dagger.
The king could hardly believe his eyes when, early [Pg 186] the next morning, his new son-in-law
craved an audience of his Majesty.
‘What, you?’ he cried, as the young man entered.
‘Yes, I. Why not?’ asked the bridegroom, who thought it best to pretend not to know anything that
had occurred. ‘You remember, I told you that the luck must turn at last, and so it has. But I came to
ask whether you would be so kind as to bid the gardeners fill up a great hole right underneath my
window, which spoils the view.’
‘Oh! certainly, yes; of course it shall be done!’ stammered the king. ‘Is there anything else?’
‘No, nothing, thank you,’ replied the prince, as he bowed and withdrew.
Now, from the moment that the Arab cut off the snake’s head, the spell, or whatever it was, seemed
to have been taken off the princess, and she lived very happily with her husband. The days passed
swiftly in hunting in the forests, or sailing on the broad river that flowed past the palace, and when
night fell she would sing to her harp, or the prince would tell her tales of his own country.
One evening a man in a strange garb, with a face burnt brown by the sun, arrived at court. He asked
to see the bridegroom, and falling on his face announced that he was a messenger sent by the queen
of Egypt, proclaiming him king in succession to his father, who was dead.
‘Her Majesty begs you will set out without delay, and your bride also, as the affairs of the kingdom
are somewhat in disorder,’ ended the messenger.
Then the young man hastened to seek an audience of his father-in-law, who was delighted to find
that his daughter’s husband was not merely the governor of a province, as he had supposed, but the
king of a powerful country. He at once ordered a splendid ship to be made ready, and in a week’s
time rode down to the harbour, to bid farewell to the young couple.
[Pg 187] In spite of her grief for the dead king, the queen was overjoyed to welcome her son home,
and commanded the palace to be hung with splendid stuffs to do honour to the bride. The people
expected great things from their new sovereign, for they had suffered much from the harsh rule of
the old one, and crowds presented themselves every morning with petitions in their hands, which
they hoped to persuade the king to grant. Truly, he had enough to keep him busy; but he was very
happy for all that, till, one night, the Arab came to him, and begged permission to return to his own
land.
Filled with dismay the young man said: ‘Leave me! Do you really wish to leave me?’ Sadly the
Arab bowed his head.
‘No, my master; never could I wish to leave you! But I have received a summons, and I dare not
disobey it.’
The king was silent, trying to choke down the grief he felt at the thought of losing his faithful
servant.
‘Well, I must not try to keep you,’ he faltered out at last. ‘That would be a poor return for all that
you have done for me! Everything I have is yours; take what you will, for without you I should long
ago have been dead!’
‘And without you, I should long ago have been dead,’ answered the Arab. ‘I am the Golden-headed
Fish.’
(Adapted from Contes Arméniens. Par Frédéric Macler, Paris. Ernest Leroux, Editeur.)
[Pg 188]
DORANI
Once upon a time there lived in a city of Hindustan a seller of scents and essences, who had a very
beautiful daughter named Dorani. This maiden had a friend who was a fairy, and the two were high
in favour with Indra, the king of fairyland, because they were able to sing so sweetly and dance so
deftly that no one in the kingdom could equal them for grace and beauty. Dorani had the most
lovely hair in the world, for it was like spun gold, and the smell of it was like the smell of fresh
roses. But her locks were so long and thick that the weight of it was often unbearable, and one day
she cut off a shining tress, and wrapping it in a large leaf, threw it in the river which ran just below
her window. Now it happened that the king’s son was out hunting, and had gone down to the river
to drink, when there floated towards him a folded leaf, from which came a perfume of roses. The
prince, with idle curiosity, took a step into the water and caught the leaf as it was sailing by. He
opened it, and within he found a lock of hair like spun gold, and from which came a faint, exquisite
odour.
When the prince reached home that day he looked so sad and was so quiet that his father wondered
if any ill had befallen him, and asked what was the matter. Then the youth took from his breast the
tress of hair which he had found in the river, and holding it up to the light, replied:
‘See, my father, was ever hair like this? Unless I may win and marry the maiden that owns that lock
I must die!’
[Pg 189]
[Pg 191] So the king immediately sent heralds throughout all his dominions to search for the damsel
with hair like spun gold; and at last he learned that she was the daughter of the scent-seller. The
object of the herald’s mission was quickly noised abroad, and Dorani heard of it with the rest; and,
one day, she said to her father:
‘If the hair is mine, and the king requires me to marry his son, I must do so; but, remember, you
must tell him that if, after the wedding, I stay all day at the palace, every night will be spent in my
old home.’
The old man listened to her with amazement, but answered nothing, as he knew she was wiser than
he. Of course the hair was Dorani’s, and heralds soon returned and informed the king, their master,
who summoned the scent-seller, and told him that he wished for his daughter to be given in
marriage to the prince. The father bowed his head three times to the ground, and replied:
‘Your highness is our lord, and all that you bid us we will do. The maiden asks this only—that if,
after the wedding, she stays all day at the palace, she may go back each night to her father’s house.’
The king thought this a very strange request; but said to himself it was, after all, his son’s affair, and
the girl would surely soon get tired of going to and fro. So he made no difficulty, and everything
was speedily arranged and the wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings.
At first, the condition attaching to his wedding with the lovely Dorani troubled the prince very little,
for he thought that he would at least see his bride all day. But, to his dismay, he found that she
would do nothing but sit the whole time upon a stool with her head bowed forward upon her knees,
and he could never persuade her to say a single word. Each evening she was carried in a palanquin
to her father’s house, and each morning she was brought back soon after daybreak; and yet never a
sound [Pg 192] passed her lips, nor did she show by any sign that she saw, or heard, or heeded her
husband.
One evening the prince, very unhappy and troubled, was wandering in an old and beautiful garden
near the palace. The gardener was a very aged man, who had served the prince’s great grandfather;
and when he saw the prince he came and bowed himself to him, and said:
‘Child! child! why do you look so sad—is aught the matter?’ Then the prince replied, ‘I am sad, old
friend, because I have married a wife as lovely as the stars, but she will not speak to me, and I know
not what to do. Night after night she leaves me for her father’s house, and day after day she sits in
mine as though turned to stone, and utters no word, whatever I may do or say.’
The old man stood thinking for a moment, and then he hobbled off to his own cottage. A little later
he came back to the prince with five or six small packets, which he placed in his hands and said:
‘To-morrow, when your bride leaves the palace, sprinkle the powder from one of these packets upon
your body, and while seeing clearly, you will become yourself invisible. More I cannot do for you,
but may all go well!’
And the prince thanked him, and put the packets carefully away in his turban.
The next night, when Dorani left for her father’s house in her palanquin, the prince took out a
packet of the magic powder and sprinkled it over himself, and then hurried after her. He soon found
that, as the old man had promised, he was invisible to everyone, although he felt as usual, and could
see all that passed. He speedily overtook the palanquin and walked beside it to the scent-seller’s
dwelling. There it was set down, and, when his bride, closely veiled, left it and entered the house,
he, too, entered unperceived.
At the first door Dorani removed one veil; then she entered another doorway at the end of a passage
where [Pg 193] she removed another veil; next she mounted the stairs, and at the door of the
women’s quarters removed a third veil. After this she proceeded to her own room where were set
two large basins, one of attar of roses and one of water; in these she washed herself, and afterwards
called for food. A servant brought her a bowl of curds, which she ate hastily, and then arrayed
herself in a robe of silver, and wound about her strings of pearls, while a wreath of roses crowned
her hair. When fully dressed, she seated herself upon a four-legged stool over which was a canopy
with silken curtains, these she drew around her, and then called out:
‘Fly, stool, to the palace of rajah Indra.’
Instantly the stool rose in the air, and the invisible prince, who had watched all these proceedings
with great wonder, seized it by one leg as it flew away, and found himself being borne through the
air at a rapid rate.
In a short while they arrived at the house of the fairy who, as I told you before, was the favourite
friend of Dorani. The fairy stood waiting on the threshold, as beautifully dressed as Dorani herself
was, and when the stool stopped at her door she cried in astonishment:
‘Why, the stool is flying all crooked to-day! What is the reason of that, I wonder? I suspect that you
have been talking to your husband, and so it will not fly straight.’
But Dorani declared that she had not spoken one word to him, and she couldn’t think why the stool
flew as if weighed down at one side. The fairy still looked doubtful, but made no answer, and took
her seat beside Dorani, the prince again holding tightly one leg. Then the stool flew on through the
air until it came to the palace of Indra the rajah.
All through the night the women sang and danced before the rajah Indra, whilst a magic lute played
of itself the most bewitching music; till the prince, who sat watching it all, was quite entranced. Just
before dawn the rajah [Pg 194] gave the signal to cease; and again the two women seated
themselves on the stool, and, with the prince clinging to the leg, it flew back to earth, and bore
Dorani and her husband safely to the scent-seller’s shop. Here the prince hurried away by himself
past Dorani’s palanquin with its sleepy bearers, straight on to the palace; and, as he passed the
threshold of his own rooms he became visible again. Then he lay down upon a couch and waited for
Dorani’s arrival.
[Pg 195] As soon as she arrived she took a seat and remained as silent as usual, with her head
bowed on her knees. For a while not a sound was heard, but presently the prince said:
‘I dreamed a curious dream last night, and as it was all about you I am going to tell it you, although
you heed nothing.’
The girl, indeed, took no notice of his words, but in spite of that he proceeded to relate every single
thing that had happened the evening before, leaving out no detail of all that he had seen or heard.
And when he praised her singing—and his voice shook a little—Dorani just looked at him; but she
said naught, though, in her own mind, she was filled with wonder. ‘What a dream!’ she thought.
‘Could it have been a dream? How could he have learnt in a dream all she had done or said?’ Still
she kept silent; only she looked that once at the prince, and then remained all day as before, with
her head bowed upon her knees.
When night came the prince again made himself invisible and followed her. The same things
happened again as had happened before, but Dorani sang better than ever. In the morning the prince
a second time told Dorani all that she had done, pretending that he had dreamt of it. Directly he had
finished Dorani gazed at him, and said:
‘Is it true that you dreamt this, or were you really there?’
‘I was there,’ answered the prince.
‘But why do you follow me?’ asked the girl.
‘Because,’ replied the prince, ‘I love you, and to be with you is happiness.’
This time Dorani’s eyelids quivered; but she said no more, and was silent the rest of the day.
However, in the evening, just as she was stepping into her palanquin, she said to the prince:
[Pg 196] ‘If you love me, prove it by not following me to-night.’
And so the prince did as she wished, and stayed at home.
That evening the magic stool flew so unsteadily that they could hardly keep their seats, and at last
the fairy exclaimed:
‘There is only one reason that it should jerk like this! You have been talking to your husband!’
And Dorani replied: ‘Yes, I have spoken; oh, yes, I have spoken!’ But no more would she say.
That night Dorani sang so marvellously that at the end the rajah Indra rose up and vowed that she
might ask what she would and he would give it to her. At first she was silent; but, when he pressed
her, she answered:
‘Give me the magic lute.’
The rajah, when he heard this, was displeased with himself for having made so rash a promise,
because this lute he valued above all his possessions. But as he had promised, so he must perform,
and with an ill grace he handed it to her.
‘You must never come here again,’ said he, ‘for, once having asked so much, how will you in future
be content with smaller gifts?’
Dorani bowed her head silently as she took the lute, and passed with the fairy out of the great gate,
where the stool awaited them. More unsteadily than before, it flew back to earth.
When Dorani got to the palace that morning she asked the prince whether he had dreamt again. He
laughed with happiness, for this time she had spoken to him of her own free will; and he replied:
‘No; but I begin to dream now—not of what has happened in the past, but of what may happen in
the future.’
That day Dorani sat very quietly, but she answered the [Pg 197] prince when he spoke to her; and
when evening fell, and with it the time for her departure, she still sat on. Then the prince came close
to her and said softly:
‘Are you not going to your house, Dorani?’
At that she rose and threw herself weeping into his arms, whispering gently:
‘Never again, my lord, never again would I leave thee!’
So the prince won his beautiful bride; and though they neither of them dealt any further with fairies
and their magic, they learnt more daily of the magic of Love, which one may still learn, although
fairy magic has fled away.
(Punjâbi Story, Major Campbell, Feroshepore.)
[Pg 198]
[Pg 211]
[Pg 216]
Now there was once a powerful king who ruled over a country on the other side of the desert, and,
when dying, gave the usual counsel to his seven sons. Hardly, however, was he dead than the eldest,
who succeeded to the throne, announced his intention of hunting in the enchanted mountain. In vain
the old men shook their heads and tried to persuade him to give up his mad scheme. All was useless;
he went, but did not return; and in due time the throne was filled by his next brother.
And so it happened to the other five, but when the [Pg 217] youngest became king, and he also
proclaimed a hunt in the mountain, a loud lament was raised in the city.
‘Who will reign over us when you are dead? For dead you surely will be,’ cried they. ‘Stay with us,
and we will make you happy.’ And for a while he listened to their prayers, and the land grew rich
and prosperous under his rule. But in a few years the restless fit again took possession of him, and
this time he would hear nothing. Hunt in that forest he would, and calling his friends and attendants
round him, he set out one morning across the desert.
They were riding through a rocky valley, when a deer sprang up in front of them and bounded away.
The king instantly gave chase, followed by his attendants; but the animal ran so swiftly that they
never could get up to it, and at length it vanished in the depths of the forest.
Then the young man drew rein for the first time, and looked about him. He had left his companions
far behind, and, glancing back, he beheld them entering some tents, dotted here and there amongst
the trees. For himself, the fresh coolness of the woods was more attractive to him than any food,
however delicious, and for hours he strolled about as his fancy led him.
By-and-by, however, it began to grow dark, and he thought that the moment had arrived for them to
start for the palace. So, leaving the forest with a sigh, he made his way down to the tents, but what
was his horror to find his men lying about, some dead, some dying. These were past speech, but
speech was needless. It was as clear as day that the wine they had drunk contained deadly poison.
‘I am too late to help you, my poor friends,’ he said, gazing at them sadly; ‘but at least I can avenge
you! Those that have set the snare will certainly return to see to its working. I will hide myself
somewhere, and discover who they are!’
[Pg 218] Near the spot where he stood he noticed a large walnut tree, and into this he climbed.
Night soon fell, and nothing broke the stillness of the place; but with the earliest glimpse of dawn a
noise of galloping hoofs was heard.
Pushing the branches aside the young man beheld a youth approaching, mounted on a white horse.
On reaching the tents the cavalier dismounted, and closely inspected the dead bodies that lay about
them. Then, one by one, he dragged them to a ravine close by and threw them into a lake at the
bottom. While he was doing this, the servants who had followed him led away the horses of the ill-
fated men, and the courtiers were ordered to let loose the deer, which was used as a decoy, and to
see that the tables in the tents were covered as before with food and wine.
Having made these arrangements he strolled slowly through the forest, but great was his surprise to
come upon a beautiful horse hidden in the depths of a thicket.
‘There was a horse for every dead man,’ he said to himself. ‘Then whose is this?’
‘Mine!’ answered a voice from a walnut tree close by. ‘Who are you that lure men into your power
and then poison them? But you shall do so no longer. Return to your house, wherever it may be, and
we will fight before it!’
The cavalier remained speechless with anger at these words; then with a great effort he replied:
‘I accept your challenge. Mount and follow me. I am Zoulvisia.’ And, springing on his horse, he
was out of sight so quickly that the king had only time to notice that light seemed to flow from
himself and his steed, and that the hair under his helmet was like liquid gold.
Clearly, the cavalier was a woman. But who could she be? Was she queen of all the queens? Or was
she chief of a band of robbers? She was neither: only a beautiful maiden.
[Pg 219]
[Pg 221] Wrapped in these reflections, he remained standing beneath the walnut tree, long after
horse and rider had vanished from sight. Then he awoke with a start, to remember that he must find
the way to the house of his enemy, though where it was he had no notion. However, he took the path
down which the rider had come, and walked along it for many hours till he came to three huts side
by side, in each of which lived an old fairy and her sons.
The poor king was by this time so tired and hungry that he could hardly speak, but when he had
drunk some milk, and rested a little, he was able to reply to the questions they eagerly put to him.
‘I am going to seek Zoulvisia,’ said he, ‘she has slain my brothers and many of my subjects, and I
mean to avenge them.’
He had only spoken to the inhabitants of one house, but from all three came an answering murmur.
‘What a pity we did not know! Twice this day has she passed our door, and we might have kept her
prisoner.’
But though their words were brave their hearts were not, for the mere thought of Zoulvisia made
them tremble.
‘Forget Zoulvisia, and stay with us,’ they all said, holding out their hands; ‘you shall be our big
brother, and we will be your little brothers.’ But the king would not.
Drawing from his pocket a pair of scissors, a razor and a mirror, he gave one to each of the old
fairies, saying:
‘Though I may not give up my vengeance I accept your friendship, and therefore leave you these
three tokens. If blood should appear on the face of either know that my life is in danger, and, in
memory of our sworn brotherhood, come to my aid.’
‘We will come,’ they answered. And the king mounted [Pg 222] his horse and set out along the road
they showed him.
By the light of the moon he presently perceived a splendid palace, but, though he rode twice round
it, he could find no door. He was considering what he should do next, when he heard the sound of
loud snoring, which seemed to come from his feet. Looking down, he beheld an old man lying at
the bottom of a deep pit, just outside the walls, with a lantern by his side.
‘Perhaps he may be able to give me some counsel,’ thought the king; and, with some difficulty, he
scrambled into the pit and laid his hand on the shoulder of the sleeper.
‘Are you a bird or a snake that you can enter here?’ asked the old man, awakening with a start. But
the king answered that he was a mere mortal, and that he sought Zoulvisia.
‘Zoulvisia? The world’s curse?’ replied he, gnashing his teeth. ‘Out of all the thousands she has
slain I am the only one who has escaped, though why she spared me only to condemn me to this
living death I cannot guess.’
‘Help me if you can,’ said the king. And he told the old man his story, to which he listened intently.
‘Take heed then to my counsel,’ answered the old man. ‘Know that every day at sunrise Zoulvisia
dresses herself in her jacket of pearls, and mounts the steps of her crystal watch-tower. From there
she can see all over her lands, and behold the entrance of either man or demon. If so much as one is
detected she utters such fearful cries that those who hear her die of fright. But hide yourself in a
cave that lies near the foot of the tower, and plant a forked stick in front of it; then, when she has
uttered her third cry, go forth boldly, and look up at the tower. And go without fear, for you will
have broken her power.’
Word for word the king did as the old man had bidden [Pg 223] him, and when he stepped forth
from the cave, their eyes met.
‘You have conquered me,’ said Zoulvisia, ‘and are worthy to be my husband, for you are the first
man who has not died at the sound of my voice!’ And letting down her golden hair, she drew up the
king to the summit of the tower as with a rope. Then she led him into the hall of audience, and
presented him to her household.
‘Ask of me what you will, and I will grant it to you,’ whispered Zoulvisia with a smile, as they sat
together on a mossy bank by the stream. And the king prayed her to set free the old man to whom he
owed his life, and to send him back to his own country.
‘I have finished with hunting, and with riding about my lands,’ said Zoulvisia, the day that they
were married. ‘The care of providing for us all belongs henceforth to you.’ And turning to her
attendants, she bade them bring the horse of fire before her.
‘This is your master, O my steed of flame,’ cried she; ‘and you will serve him as you have served
me.’ And kissing him between his eyes, she placed the bridle in the hand of her husband.
The horse looked for a moment at the young man, and then bent his head, while the king patted his
neck and smoothed his tail, till they felt themselves old friends. After this he mounted to do
Zoulvisia’s bidding, but before he started she gave him a case of pearls containing one of her hairs,
which he tucked into the breast of his coat.
He rode along for some time, without seeing any game to bring home for dinner. Suddenly a fine
stag started up almost under his feet, and he at once gave chase. On they sped, but the stag twisted
and turned so that the king had no chance of a shot till they reached a broad river, when the animal
jumped in and swam across. The king fitted his cross-bow with a bolt, and [Pg 224] took aim, but
though he succeeded in wounding the stag, it contrived to gain the opposite bank, and in his
excitement he never observed that the case of pearls had fallen into the water.
The stream, though deep, was likewise rapid, and the box was swirled along miles, and miles, and
miles, till it was washed up in quite another country. Here it was picked up by one of the water-
carriers belonging to the palace, who showed it to the king. The workmanship of the case was so
curious, and the pearls so rare, that the king could not make up his mind to part with it, but he gave
the man a good price, and sent him away. Then, summoning his chamberlain, he bade him find out
its history in three days, or lose his head.
But the answer to the riddle, which puzzled all the magicians and wise men, was given by an old
woman, who came up to the palace and told the chamberlain that, for two handfuls of gold, she
would reveal the mystery.
Of course the chamberlain gladly gave her what she asked, and in return she informed him that the
case and the hair belonged to Zoulvisia.
‘Bring her hither, old crone, and you shall have gold enough to stand up in,’ said the chamberlain.
And the old woman answered that she would try what she could do.
She went back to her hut in the middle of the forest, and standing in the doorway, whistled softly.
Soon the dead leaves on the ground began to move and to rustle, and from underneath them there
came a long train of serpents. They wriggled to the feet of the witch, who stooped down and patted
their heads, and gave each one some milk in a red earthen basin. When they had all finished, she
whistled again, and bade two or three coil themselves round her arms and neck, while she turned
one into a cane and another into a whip. Then [Pg 225] she took a stick, and on the river bank
changed it into a raft, and seating herself comfortably, she pushed off into the centre of the stream.
All that day she floated, and all the next night, and towards sunset the following evening she found
herself close to Zoulvisia’s garden, just at the moment that the king, on the horse of flame, was
returning from hunting.
‘Who are you?’ he asked in surprise; for old women travelling on rafts were not common in that
country. ‘Who are you, and why have you come here?’
‘I am a poor pilgrim, my son,’ answered she, ‘and having missed the caravan, I have wandered
foodless for many days through the desert, till at length I reached the river. There I found this tiny
raft, and to it I committed myself, not knowing if I should live or die. But since you have found me,
give me, I pray you, bread to eat, and let me lie this night by the dog who guards your door!’
This piteous tale touched the heart of the young man, and he promised that he would bring her food,
and that she should pass the night in his palace.
‘But mount behind me, good woman,’ cried he, ‘for you have walked far, and it is still a long way to
the palace.’ And as he spoke he bent down to help her, but the horse swerved on one side.
And so it happened twice and thrice, and the old witch guessed the reason, though the king did not.
‘I fear to fall off,’ said she; ‘but as your kind heart pities my sorrows, ride slowly, and lame as I am,
I think I can manage to keep up.’
At the door he bade the witch to rest herself, and he would fetch her all she needed. But Zoulvisia
his wife grew pale when she heard whom he had brought, and besought him to feed the old woman
and send her away, as she would cause mischief to befall them.
The king laughed at her fears, and answered lightly:
[Pg 226] ‘Why, one would think she was a witch to hear you talk! And even if she were, what harm
could she do to us?’ And calling to the maidens he bade them carry her food, and to let her sleep in
their chamber.
Now the old woman was very cunning, and kept the maidens awake half the night with all kinds of
strange stories. Indeed, the next morning, while they were dressing their mistress, one of them
suddenly broke into a laugh, in which the others joined her.
‘What is the matter with you?’ asked Zoulvisia. And the maid answered that she was thinking of a
droll adventure told them the evening before by the new-comer.
‘And, oh, madam!’ cried the girl, ‘it may be that she is a witch, as they say; but I am sure she never
would work a spell to harm a fly! And as for her tales, they would pass many a dull hour for you,
when my lord was absent!’
So, in an evil hour, Zoulvisia consented that the crone should be brought to her, and from that
moment the two were hardly ever apart.
One day the witch began to talk about the young king, and to declare that in all the lands she had
visited she had seen none like him.
‘It was so clever of him to guess your secret so as to win your heart,’ said she. ‘And of course he
told you his, in return?’
‘No, I don’t think he has got any,’ returned Zoulvisia.
‘Not got any secrets?’ cried the old woman scornfully. ‘That is nonsense! Every man has a secret,
which he always tells to the woman he loves. And if he has not told it to you, it is that he does not
love you!’
[Pg 227]
These words troubled Zoulvisia mightily, though she would not confess it to the witch. But the next
time [Pg 229] she found herself alone with her husband, she began to coax him to tell her in what
lay the secret of his strength. For a long while he put her off with caresses, but when she would be
no longer denied, he answered:
‘It is my sabre that gives me strength, and day and night it lies by my side. But now that I have told
you, swear upon this ring, that I will give you in exchange for yours, that you will reveal it to
nobody.’ And Zoulvisia swore; and instantly hastened to betray the great news to the old woman.
Four nights later, when all the world was asleep, the witch softly crept into the king’s chamber and
took the sabre from his side as he lay sleeping. Then, opening her lattice, she flew on to the terrace
and dropped the sword into the river.
The next morning everyone was surprised because the king did not, as usual, rise early and go off to
hunt. The attendants listened at the keyhole and heard the sound of heavy breathing, but none dared
enter, till Zoulvisia pushed past. And what a sight met their gaze! There lay the king almost dead,
with foam on his mouth, and eyes that were already closed. They wept, and they cried to him, but
no answer came.
Suddenly a shriek broke from those who stood hindmost, and in strode the witch, with serpents
round her neck and arms and hair. At a sign from her they flung themselves with a hiss upon the
maidens, whose flesh was pierced with their poisonous fangs. Then turning to Zoulvisia, she said:
‘I give you your choice—will you come with me, or shall the serpents slay you also?’ And as the
terrified girl stared at her, unable to utter one word, she seized her by the arm and led her to the
place where the raft was hidden among the rushes. When they were both on board she took the oars,
and they floated down the stream till they had reached the neighbouring country, where Zoulvisia
was sold for a sack of gold to the king.
[Pg 230] Now, since the young man had entered the three huts on his way through the forest, not a
morning had passed without the sons of the three fairies examining the scissors, the razor and the
mirror, which the young king had left them. Hitherto the surfaces of all three things had been bright
and undimmed, but on this particular morning, when they took them out as usual, drops of blood
stood on the razor and the scissors, while the little mirror was clouded over.
‘Something terrible must have happened to our little brother,’ they whispered to each other, with
awestruck faces; ‘we must hasten to his rescue ere it be too late.’ And putting on their magic
slippers they started for the palace.
The servants greeted them eagerly, ready to pour forth all they knew, but that was not much; only
that the sabre had vanished, none knew where. The new-comers passed the whole of the day in
searching for it, but it could not be found, and when night closed in, they were very tired and
hungry. But how were they to get food? The king had not hunted that day, and there was nothing for
them to eat. The little men were in despair, when a ray of the moon suddenly lit up the river beneath
the walls.
‘How stupid! Of course there are fish to catch,’ cried they; and running down to the bank they soon
succeeded in landing some fine fish, which they cooked on the spot. Then they felt better, and began
to look about them.
Further out, in the middle of the stream, there was a strange splashing, and by-and-by the body of a
huge fish appeared, turning and twisting as if in pain. The eyes of all the brothers were fixed on the
spot, when the fish leapt in the air, and a bright gleam flashed through the night. ‘The sabre!’ they
shouted, and plunged into the stream, and with a sharp tug, pulled out the sword, while the fish lay
on the water, exhausted by its struggles. [Pg 231] Swimming back with the sabre to land, they
carefully dried it in their coats, and then carried it to the palace and placed it on the king’s pillow. In
an instant colour came back to the waxen face, and the hollow cheeks filled out. The king sat up,
and opening his eyes he said:
‘Where is Zoulvisia?’
‘That is what we do not know,’ answered the little men; ‘but now that you are saved you will soon
find out.’ And they told him what had happened since Zoulvisia had betrayed his secret to the witch.
‘Let me go to my horse,’ was all he said. But when he entered the stable he could have wept at the
sight of his favourite steed, which was nearly in as sad a plight as his master had been. Languidly he
turned his head as the door swung back on its hinges, but when he beheld the king he rose up, and
rubbed his head against him.
‘Oh, my poor horse! How much cleverer were you than I! If I had acted like you I should never
have lost Zoulvisia; but we will seek her together, you and I.’
For a long while the king and his horse followed the course of the stream, but nowhere could he
learn anything of Zoulvisia. At length, one evening, they both stopped to rest by a cottage not far
from a great city, and as the king was lying outstretched on the grass, lazily watching his horse
cropping the short turf, an old woman came out with a wooden bowl of fresh milk, which she
offered him.
He drank it eagerly, for he was very thirsty, and then laying down the bowl, began to talk to the
woman, who was delighted to have someone to listen to her conversation.
‘You are in luck to have passed this way just now,’ said she, ‘for in five days the king holds his
wedding banquet. Ah! but the bride is unwilling, for all her blue eyes and her golden hair! And she
keeps by her [Pg 232] side a cup of poison, and declares that she will swallow it rather than become
his wife. Yet he is a handsome man too, and a proper husband for her—more than she could have
looked for, having come no one knows whither, and bought from a witch——’
The king started. Had he found her after all? His heart beat violently, as if it would choke him; but
he gasped out:
‘Is her name Zoulvisia?’
‘Ay, so she says, though the old witch—— But what ails you?’ she broke off, as the young man
sprang to his feet and seized her wrists.
‘Listen to me,’ he said. ‘Can you keep a secret?’
‘Ay,’ answered the old woman again, ‘if I am paid for it.’
‘Oh, you shall be paid, never fear—as much as your heart can desire! Here is a handful of gold: you
shall have as much again if you will do my bidding.’ The old crone nodded her head.
‘Then go and buy a dress such as ladies wear at court, and manage to get admitted into the palace,
and into the presence of Zoulvisia. When there, show her this ring, and after that she will tell you
what to do.’
So the old woman set off, and clothed herself in a garment of yellow silk, and wrapped a veil
closely round her head. In this dress she walked boldly up the palace steps behind some merchants
whom the king had sent for to bring presents for Zoulvisia.
At first the bride would have nothing to say to any of them; but on perceiving the ring, she suddenly
grew as meek as a lamb. And thanking the merchants for their trouble, she sent them away, and
remained alone with her visitor.
‘Grandmother,’ asked Zoulvisia, as soon as the door was safely shut, ‘where is the owner of this
ring?’
‘In my cottage,’ answered the old woman, ‘waiting for orders from you.’
[Pg 233] ‘Tell him to remain there for three days; and now go to the king of this country, and say
that you have succeeded in bringing me to reason. Then he will let me alone and will cease to watch
me. On the third day from this I shall be wandering about the garden near the river, and there your
guest will find me. The rest concerns myself only.’
The morning of the third day dawned, and with the first rays of the sun a bustle began in the palace;
for that evening the king was to marry Zoulvisia. Tents were being erected of fine scarlet cloth,
decked with wreaths of sweet-smelling white flowers, and in them the banquet was spread. When
all was ready a procession was formed to fetch the bride, who had been wandering in the palace
gardens since daylight, and crowds lined the way to see her pass. A glimpse of her dress of golden
gauze might be caught, as she passed from one flowery thicket to another; then suddenly the
multitude swayed, and shrank back, as a thunderbolt seemed to flash out of the sky to the place
where Zoulvisia was standing. Ah! but it was no thunderbolt, only the horse of fire! And when the
people looked again, it was bounding away with two persons on its back.
Zoulvisia and her husband both learnt how to keep happiness when they had got it; and that is a
lesson that many men and woman never learn at all. And besides, it is a lesson which nobody can
teach, and that every boy and girl must learn for themselves.
(From Contes Arméniens. Par Frédéric Macler.)
[Pg 234]
The wazir left the palace, much troubled in mind, and bade his slaves bring Léna before him. ‘Get
me eight more such rubies as those you brought yesterday,’ commanded the wazir, directly the
banker was shown into his presence. ‘Eight more, and be quick, or I am a dead man.’
‘But how can I?’ wailed Léna; ‘rubies like those don’t grow upon bushes!’
‘Where did you get them from?’ asked the wazir.
‘From Déna, the oil-seller,’ said the banker.
‘Well, send for him and ask him where he got them,’ answered the wazir. ‘I am not going to hang
for twenty Dénas!’ And more slaves were sent to summon Déna.
[Pg 239] When Déna arrived he was closely questioned, and then all three started to see the rajah,
and to him Déna told the whole story.
‘What night was it that you slept in the peepul tree?’ demanded the rajah.
‘I can’t remember,’ said Déna; ‘but my wife will know.’
Then Déna’s wife was sent for, and she explained that it was on the last Sunday of the new moon.
Now everyone knows that it is on the Sunday of the new moon that spirits have special power to
play pranks upon mortals. So the rajah forbade them all, on pain of death, to say a word to anyone;
and declared that, on the next Sunday of the new moon, they four—Kahré, Musli, Léna and Déna—
would go and sit in the peepul tree and see what happened.
The days dragged on to the appointed Sunday, and that evening the four met secretly, and entered
the forest. They had not far to go before they reached the peepul tree, into which they climbed as
the rajah had planned. At midnight the tree began to sway, and presently it moved through the air.
‘See, sire,’ whispered Déna, ‘the tree is flying!’
‘Yes, yes,’ said the rajah, ‘you have told the truth. Now sit quiet, and we shall see what happens.’
Away and away flew the tree with the four men clinging tightly to its branches, until at last it was
set down by the waste sea-shore where a great wide sea came tumbling in on a desert beach.
Presently, as before, they began to see little points of light that glistened like fires all around them.
Then Déna thought to himself:
‘Think! last time I only took four that came close to me, and I got rid of all my debt in return. This
time I will take all I can get and be rich!’
‘If I got ten thousand rupees for four stones,’ thought Léna, ‘I will gather forty now for myself, and
become so [Pg 240] wealthy that they will probably make me a wazir at least!’
‘For four stones I received ten villages,’ Musli was silently thinking; ‘now I will get stones enough
to purchase a kingdom, become a rajah, and employ wazirs of my own!’
And Kahré thought: ‘What is the good of only getting eight stones? Why, here are enough to make
twenty necklaces; and wealth means power!’
Full of avarice and desire, each scrambled down from the tree, spread his cloth, and darted hither
and thither picking up the precious jewels, looking the while over his shoulder to see whether his
neighbour fared better than he. So engrossed were they in the business of gathering wealth that the
dawn came upon them unawares; and [Pg 241] suddenly the tree rose up again and flew away,
leaving them upon the sea-shore staring after it, each with his cloth heavy with priceless jewels.
Morning broke in the city, and great was the consternation in the palace when the chamberlains
declared that the rajah had gone out the evening before and had not returned.
‘Ah!’ said one, ‘it is all right! Musli wazir will know where he is, for it was he who was the king’s
companion.’
Then they went to the wazir’s house, and there they learnt that the wazir had left it the evening
before and had not returned; ‘but,’ said a servant, ‘Léna the banker will know where he is, for it was
with him that Musli went.’
Then they visited the house of Léna, and there they learnt that the banker had gone out the evening
before, and that he too had not returned; but the porter told them that he was accompanied by Déna
the oil-seller, so he would know where they were.
So they departed to Déna’s house, and Déna’s wife met them with a torrent of reproaches and
wailings, for Déna too had gone off the evening before to Léna’s house and had not returned.
In vain they waited, and searched—never did any of the hapless four return to their homes; and the
confused tale which was told by Déna’s wife was the only clue to their fate.
To this day, in that country, when a greedy man has overreached himself, and lost all in grasping at
too much, folks say:
‘All has he lost!—neither Déna, nor Léna, nor Musli, nor Kahré remain.’ And not five men in a
hundred know how the proverb began, nor what it really signifies.
(Major Campbell, Feroshepore.)
[Pg 242]
[Pg 247]
In the morning the princess was up early, and took off the mourning dress which she had worn for
five [Pg 255] whole years, and put on gay and beautiful clothes. And she swept the house and
cleaned it, and adorned it with garlands and nosegays of sweet flowers and ferns, and prepared it as
though she were making ready for her wedding. And when night fell she lit up the woods and
gardens with lanterns, and spread a table as for a feast, and lit in the house a thousand wax candles.
Then she waited for her husband, not knowing in what shape he would appear. And at midnight
there came striding from the river the prince, laughing, but with tears in his eyes; and she ran to
meet him, and threw herself into his arms, crying and laughing too.
So the prince came home; and the next day they two went back to the palace, and the old king wept
with joy to see them. And the bells, so long silent, were set a-ringing again, and the guns firing, and
the trumpets blaring, and there was fresh feasting and rejoicing.
And the old woman who had been the prince’s nurse became nurse to the prince’s children—at least
she was called so; though she was far too old to do anything for them but love them. Yet she still
thought that she was useful, and knew that she was happy. And happy, indeed, were the prince and
princess, who in due time became king and queen, and lived and ruled long and prosperously.
(Major Campbell, Feroshepore.)
[Pg 256]
When the prince had eaten and drunk, he set off, and soon came to a forest, and sure enough it was
full of lions and tigers, and bears and wolves, who came rushing towards him; but instead of
springing on him and tearing him to pieces, they lay down on the ground and licked his hands. He
speedily found the tree with the apples which his mother wanted, but the branches were so high he
could not reach them, and there was no way of climbing up the smooth trunk.
‘It is no use after all, I can’t get up there,’ he said to himself. ‘What am I to do now?’
But, as he turned away, his sword chanced to touch the tree, and immediately two apples fell down.
He picked them up joyfully, and was going away when a little dog came out of a hill close by, and
running up to him, began tugging at his clothes and whining.
[Pg 262] ‘What do you want, little dog?’ asked the prince, stooping down to pat his soft black head.
The dog ran to a hole that was in the hill and sat there looking out, as much as to say: ‘Come along
in with me.’
‘I may as well go and see what is in there,’ thought the prince, and he went over to the hill. But the
hole was so small that he could not get through it, so he thrust his sword into it, and immediately it
became larger.
‘Ha, ha!’ he chuckled; ‘it’s worth something to have a sword like that.’ And he bent down and crept
through the hole.
The first thing he beheld, when he entered a room at the very end of a dark passage, was a beautiful
princess, who was bound by an iron chain to an iron pillar.
‘What evil fate brought you here?’ he asked in surprise: and the lady answered:
‘It isn’t much use for me to tell you lest my lot becomes yours.’
‘I am not afraid of that. Tell me who you are and what has brought you here,’ begged the prince.
‘My story is not long,’ she said, smiling sadly. ‘I am a princess from Arabia, and twelve robbers
who dwell in this place are fighting among themselves as to which shall have me to wife.’
‘Shall I save you?’ asked the prince. And she answered:
‘Yes; but you can’t do it. To begin with, how could you break the chain I am bound with?’
‘Oh, that’s easy enough,’ said he, taking out his sword; and directly it touched the chain the links
fell apart and the princess was free.
‘Come!’ said the prince, taking her hand. But she drew back.
‘No, I dare not!’ she cried. ‘If we should meet the robbers in the passage they would kill us both.’
[Pg 263]
[Pg 265] ‘Not they!’ said the prince, brandishing his sword. ‘But how long have you been here?’ he
added quickly.
‘About twenty years, I think,’ said the princess, reckoning with her fingers.
‘Twenty years!’ exclaimed the prince. ‘Then you had better shut your eyes, for when you have been
sitting there so long it might hurt you to go too suddenly into the daylight. So you are the Princess
of Arabia, whose beauty is famous throughout all the world! I, too, am a prince.’
‘Will you not come back to Arabia and marry me, now you have saved my life?’ asked the princess.
‘Even if my father is living still, he must be old, and after his death you can be king.’
‘No,’ replied the prince, ‘I cannot do that—I must live and die in my own country. But at the end of
a year I will follow you and marry you.’ And that was all he would say.
Then the princess took a heavy ring from her finger and put it on his. Her father’s and her mother’s
names were engraved in it, as well as her own, and she asked him to keep it as a reminder of his
promise.
‘I will die before I part from it,’ said the prince. ‘And if at the end of a year I am still living, I will
come. I believe I have heard that at the other side of this forest there is a port from which ships sail
to Arabia. Let us hasten there at once.’
Hand in hand they set off through the forest, and when they came to the port they found a ship just
ready to sail. The princess said good-bye to the prince, and went on board the vessel, and when she
reached her own country there were great rejoicings, for her parents had never expected to see her
again. She told them how a prince had saved her from the robbers, and was coming in a year’s time
to marry her, and they were greatly pleased.
‘All the same,’ said the king, ‘I wish he were here now. A year is a long time.’
[Pg 266] When the princess was no longer before his eyes, the prince recollected why he had
entered the forest, and made all the haste he could back to the robbers’ home.
The robber-chief could smell the apples from afar, for he had a nose like an ogre, and he said to the
queen:
‘That is a strange fellow! If he had gone into the forest the wild beasts must have eaten him unless
he has a powerful charm to protect him. If that is so we must get it away from him.’
‘No, he has nothing,’ answered the queen, who was quite fascinated by the robber.
But the robber did not believe her.
‘We must think of a way to get it,’ he said. ‘When he comes in say you are well again, and have
some food ready for him. Then, whilst he is eating, tell him you dreamed that he was attacked by
wild beasts, and ask him how he managed to escape from them. After he has told you I can easily
find a way to take his charm from him.’
Shortly after the prince came in.
‘How are you, mother!’ he said gaily. ‘Here are your apples. Now you will soon be well again, and
ready to come away with me.’
‘Oh, I am better already,’ she said. ‘And see, your dinner is all hot for you, eat it up, and then we
will start.’
Whilst he was eating she said to him: ‘I had a horrible dream while you were away. I saw you in a
forest full of wild animals, and they were running round you and growling fiercely. How did you
manage to escape from them?’
‘Oh, it was only a dream!’ laughed the prince.
‘But my dreams are always true,’ said his mother. ‘Tell me how it was.’
The prince wondered for some time whether he should tell her or not, but at last he decided to let
her into the secret.
[Pg 267] ‘One should tell one’s mother everything,’ he thought. And he told her.
‘See, mother, here are a sword and a mail shirt which I found in the first house we entered in the
forest, and as long as I carry them nothing can hurt me. That is what saved me from the wild
beasts.’
‘How can I be thankful enough!’ exclaimed the queen. And directly the prince’s back was turned,
she hurried to tell the robber.
The robber, as soon as he heard the news, made a sleeping-draught, and bade the queen give it to
her son before he went to bed that night.
Accordingly, as soon as the prince began to get sleepy, the queen handed him the cup containing the
draught.
‘Drink this, to please me,’ she said. ‘It will do you good after all you’ve gone through, and make
you sleep well.’
‘What an odd taste it has!’ murmured the prince as he drank it.
Immediately he fell asleep; and the robber came in and took away his sword and shirt of mail.
‘These things belong to my brother,’ he said. After he had got them both in his hand the robber
woke him.
‘I am the master now,’ said he. ‘Choose one of two things—either you must die, or your eyes will
be put out, and you will be sent back to the forest.’
The prince’s blood grew cold at these words. Then a thought struck him, and he turned to his
mother: ‘Is this your doing?’ he asked sternly. And though she burst into tears and denied it, the
prince knew she was not telling the truth.
‘Well,’ said he, ‘“whilst there is life there is hope.” I will go back to the forest.’
Then the robber put out his eyes, gave him a stick, and some food and drink, and drove him into the
forest, [Pg 268] hoping that the wild beasts would kill him, as he no longer had the sword and shirt
to protect him.
‘Now,’ he said to the queen, ‘we will return to your country.’
The next day they set sail, and as soon as they reached home, they were married, and the robber
became king.
Meanwhile the poor prince was wandering about in the forest, hoping to find someone who would
help him, and perhaps take him into service, for now he had no money and no home. It so happened
that there had been a great hunt in the forest, and the wild beasts had all fled before the hunters and
were hiding, so nothing did him any harm. At last one day, just when his food was all gone and he
had made up his mind that he must surely die of hunger, he came to the port whence the ships sailed
for Arabia. One vessel was just ready to start, and the captain was going on board when he saw the
prince.
‘Why, here is a poor blind fellow!’ he said. ‘No doubt that is the work of the robbers. Let us take
him to Arabia with us. Would you like to come, my good man?’ he asked the prince.
Oh, how glad he was to hear someone speak kindly to him again! And he answered that he would,
and the sailors helped him to climb up the side of the ship. When they got to Arabia the captain took
him to the public baths, and ordered one of the slaves to wash him. Whilst he was being washed the
princess’s ring slipped off his finger and was afterwards found by the slave who cleaned out the
bath. The man showed it to a friend of his who lived at the palace.
‘Why, it is the princess’s ring!’ he said. ‘Where did it come from?’
‘It fell off a blind man’s finger,’ said the slave. ‘He must have stolen it; but I dare say you will be
able to return it to the princess.’
[Pg 269] So that evening the man took the ring to the palace and gave it to his daughter, who was
the princess’s favourite slave, and the girl gave it to her mistress. When the princess saw it she
uttered a cry of joy.
‘It is the ring I gave my betrothed!’ she said. ‘Take me to him at once.’
The bath-keeper thought it strange that the princess should be betrothed to a blind beggar, but he did
as she bade him, and when she saw the prince she cried:
‘At last you have come! The year is over, and I thought you were dead. Now we will be married
immediately.’ And she went home and told the king that he was to send an escort to bring her
betrothed to the palace. Naturally the king was rather surprised at the sudden arrival of the prince;
but when he heard that he was blind he was very much annoyed.
‘I cannot have a blind person to succeed me,’ he said. ‘It is perfectly absurd!’
But the princess had had her own way all her life, and in the end the king gave way as he had
always done. The prince was taken to the palace with much ceremony and splendour; but in spite of
this the king was not contented. Still, it could not be helped, and really it was time the princess was
married, though she looked as young as ever. There had been hundreds of knights and princes who
had begged her to bestow her hand upon them, but she would have nothing to do with anyone; and
now she had taken it into her head to marry this blind prince, and nobody else would she have.
One evening, as it was fine, the prince and princess went into the garden, and sat down under a tree.
Two ravens were perched on a bush near by, and the prince, who could understand bird language,
heard one of them say: ‘Do you know that it is Midsummer-eve to-night?’
‘Yes,’ said the other.
[Pg 270] ‘And do you know that part of the garden which is known as the Queen’s Bed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, perhaps you don’t know this, that whoever has bad eyes, or no eyes at all, should bathe his
eye-sockets in the dew that falls there to-night, because then he will get his sight back. Only he
must do it between twelve and one o’clock.’
That was good news for the prince and princess to hear, and the young man begged the princess to
lead him to the place called the Queen’s Bed, which was the little plot of grass where the queen
used often to lie down and take her midday nap. Then, between twelve and one o’clock, he bathed
his eyes with the dew that was falling there, and found he could see again as well as ever.
‘I can see you!’ he said to the princess, gazing at her as if he had never seen anything before.
‘I don’t believe it,’ she answered.
‘Well, go and hang your handkerchief on a bush, and if I find it at once you must believe me,’ he
said.
And so she did, and he went straight up to the handkerchief.
‘Yes, indeed, you can see,’ cried the princess. ‘To think that my mother’s bed has really given back
your sight!’ and she went to the bank and sat down again; and by-and-by, as the day was hot, the
princess fell asleep. As the prince watched her he suddenly saw something shining on her neck. It
was a little golden lamp that gave out a bright light, and it hung from a golden chain. The prince
thought he would like to examine it more closely, so he unfastened the chain, but as he did so the
lamp fell to the ground. Before he could pick it up a hawk flew in, snatched up the little lamp and
flew away again with it. The prince set off in pursuit, and ran on and on without being able to catch
the bird, until at length he had lost his way. Trying to find it, he wandered on, up and [Pg 271]
down, until he came to the forest where he had found the princess.
Meantime, the princess woke up, and finding herself alone she set out to look for him. In the end
she also lost her way, and as she was walking about, not knowing what to do, the robbers captured
her and took her back to the cave from which the prince had rescued her. So there they were after all
their trouble—no better off than before!
The prince wandered on, trying to find his way back to Arabia, until he chanced one day to meet
twelve youths, walking gaily through the forest, singing and laughing. ‘Where are you going?’ he
asked. And they told him they were looking for work.
[Pg 272] ‘I’ll join you, if I may,’ said the prince. And they answered: ‘The more the merrier.’
Then the prince went with them, and they all journeyed on until they met an old troll.
‘Where are you going, my masters?’ asked the troll.
‘To seek service,’ they told him.
‘Then come and serve me,’ he said; ‘there will be plenty to eat and drink, and not much work to do,
and if, at the end of a year, you can answer three questions, I’ll give you each a sack of gold.
Otherwise you must be turned into beasts.’
The youths thought this sounded easy enough, so they went home with the troll to his castle.
‘You will find all that you want here,’ he said; ‘and all you need do is to take care of the house, for I
am going away, and shall only return when the year is over.’
Then he went away, and the young men, left to themselves, had a fine time of it; for they did no
work, and only amused themselves with singing and drinking. Every day they found the table laid
with good things to eat and drink, and when they had finished, the plates and dishes were cleared
away by invisible hands. Only the prince, who was sad for his lost princess, ate and drank sparingly,
and worked hard keeping the house in order.
One day, as he sat in his own room, he heard the voice of the old troll beneath his window talking to
another troll.
‘To-morrow,’ said he, ‘the year is up.’
‘And what questions will you ask?’ inquired the other.
‘First I shall ask how long they have been here—they don’t know, the young fools! Secondly I shall
ask what shines on the roof of the castle.’
‘And what is that?’
‘The lamp that was stolen by me from the princess as she slept in the garden.’
[Pg 273] ‘And what is the third question?’
‘I shall ask where the food and drink they consume every day come from. I steal it from the king’s
table; but they don’t know that.’
[Pg 276]
[Pg 279]
‘No; was it there?’ answered the boy. ‘I saw nothing but a hand which came from a grave, and
belonged to someone who wanted my cake, but I just rapped the fingers with my spoon, and said it
was not for him, and then the hand vanished. Oh, how nice the fire is!’ And he flung himself on his
knees before it, and so did not [Pg 283] notice the glances of surprise cast by the robbers at each
other.
‘There is another chance for you,’ said one at length. ‘On the other side of the mountain lies a deep
pool; go to that, and perhaps you may meet fear on the way.’
‘I hope so, indeed,’ answered the boy. And he set out at once.
He soon beheld the waters of the pool gleaming in the moonlight, and as he drew near he saw a tall
swing standing just over it, and in the swing a child was seated, weeping bitterly.
‘That is a strange place for a swing,’ thought the boy; ‘but I wonder what he is crying about.’ And
he was hurrying on towards the child, when a maiden ran up and spoke to him.
‘I want to lift my little brother from the swing,’ cried she, ‘but it is so high above me, that I cannot
reach. If you will get closer to the edge of the pool, and let me mount on your shoulder, I think I can
reach him.’
‘Willingly,’ replied the boy, and in an instant the girl had climbed to his shoulders. But instead of
lifting the child from the swing, as she could easily have done, she pressed her feet so firmly on
either side of the youth’s neck, that he felt that in another minute he would be choked, or else fall
into the water beneath him. So gathering up all his strength, he gave a mighty heave, and threw the
girl backwards. As she touched the ground a bracelet fell from her arm, and this the youth picked
up.
‘I may as well keep it as a remembrance of all the queer things that have happened to me since I left
home,’ he said to himself, and turning to look for the child, he saw that both it and the swing had
vanished, and that the first streaks of dawn were in the sky.
With the bracelet on his arm, the youth started for a little town which was situated in the plain on
the further side of the mountain, and as, hungry and thirsty, he [Pg 284] entered its principal street, a
Jew stopped him. ‘Where did you get that bracelet?’ asked the Jew. ‘It belongs to me.’
‘No, it is mine,’ replied the boy.
‘It is not. Give it to me at once, or it will be the worse for you!’ cried the Jew.
‘Let us go before a judge, and tell him our stories,’ said the boy. ‘If he decides in your favour, you
shall have it; if in mine, I will keep it!’
To this the Jew agreed, and the two went together to the great hall, in which the kadi was
administering justice. He listened very carefully to what each had to say, and then pronounced his
verdict. Neither of the two claimants had proved his right to the bracelet, therefore it must remain in
the possession of the judge till its fellow was brought before him.
When they heard this, the Jew and the boy looked at each other, and their eyes said: ‘Where are we
to go to find the other one?’ But as they knew there was no use in disputing the decision, they
bowed low and left the hall of audience.
Wandering he knew not whither, the youth found himself on the sea-shore. At a little distance was a
ship which had struck on a hidden rock, and was rapidly sinking, while on deck the crew were
gathered, with faces white as death, shrieking and wringing their hands.
‘Have you met with fear?’ shouted the boy. And the answer came above the noise of the waves.
‘Oh, help! help! We are drowning!’
Then the boy flung off his clothes, and swam to the ship, where many hands were held out to draw
him on board.
‘The ship is tossed hither and thither, and will soon be sucked down,’ cried the crew again. ‘Death is
very near, and we are frightened!’
‘Give me a rope,’ said the boy in reply, and he took [Pg 285] it, and made it safe round his body at
one end, and to the mast at the other, and sprang into the sea. Down he went, down, down, down,
till at last his feet touched the bottom, and he stood up and looked about him. There, sure enough, a
sea-maiden with a wicked face was tugging hard at a chain which she had fastened to the ship with
a grappling iron, and was dragging it bit by bit beneath the waves. Seizing her arms in both his
hands, he forced her to drop the chain, and the ship above remaining steady, the sailors were able
gently to float her off the rock. Then taking a rusty knife from a heap of seaweed at his feet, he cut
the rope round his waist and fastened the sea-maiden firmly to a stone, so that she could do no more
mischief, and bidding her farewell, he swam back to the beach, where his clothes were still lying.
The youth dressed himself quickly and walked on till he came to a beautiful shady garden filled
with flowers, and with a clear little stream running through. The day was hot, and he was tired, so
he entered the gate, and seated himself under a clump of bushes covered with sweet-smelling red
blossoms, and it was not long before he fell asleep. Suddenly a rush of wings and a cool breeze
awakened him, and raising his head cautiously, he saw three doves plunging into the stream. They
splashed joyfully about, and shook themselves, and then dived to the bottom of a deep pool. When
they appeared again they were no longer three doves, but three beautiful damsels, bearing between
them a table made of mother of pearl. On this they placed drinking cups fashioned from pink and
green shells, and one of the maidens filled a cup from a crystal goblet, and was raising it to her
mouth, when her sister stopped her.
‘To whose health do you drink?’ asked she.
‘To the youth who prepared the cake, and rapped my hand with the spoon when I stretched it out of
the [Pg 286] earth,’ answered the maiden, ‘and was never afraid as other men were! But to whose
health do you drink?’
‘To the youth on whose shoulders I climbed at the edge of the pool, and who threw me off with such
a jerk, that I lay unconscious on the ground for hours,’ replied the second. ‘But you, my sister,’
added she, turning to the third girl, ‘to whom do you drink?’
‘Down in the sea I took hold of a ship and shook it and pulled it till it would soon have been lost,’
said she. And as she spoke she looked quite different from what she had done with the chain in her
hands, seeking to work mischief. ‘But a youth came, and freed the ship and bound me to a rock. To
his health I drink,’ and they all three lifted their cups and drank silently.
As they put their cups down, the youth appeared before them.
‘Here am I, the youth whose health you have drunk; and now give me the bracelet that matches a
jewelled band which of a surety fell from the arm of one of you. A Jew tried to take it from me, but
I would not let him have it, and he dragged me before the kadi, who kept my bracelet till I could
show him its fellow. And I have been wandering hither and thither in search of it, and that is how I
have found myself in such strange places.’
‘Come with us, then,’ said the maidens, and they led him down a passage into a hall, out of which
opened many chambers, each one of greater splendour than the last. From a shelf heaped up with
gold and jewels the eldest sister took a bracelet, which in every way was exactly like the one which
was in the judge’s keeping, and fastened it to the youth’s arm.
‘Go at once and show this to the kadi,’ said she, ‘and he will give you the fellow to it.’
‘I shall never forget you,’ answered the youth, ‘but it may be long before we meet again, for I shall
never rest till I have found fear.’ Then he went his way, and [Pg 287] won the bracelet from the
kadi. After this, he again set forth in his quest of fear.
On and on walked the youth, but fear never crossed his path, and one day he entered a large town,
where all the streets and squares were so full of people, he could hardly pass between them.
‘Why are all these crowds gathered together?’ he asked of a man who stood next him.
‘The ruler of this country is dead,’ was the reply, ‘and as he had no children, it is needful to choose
a successor. Therefore each morning one of the sacred pigeons is let loose from the tower yonder,
and on whomsoever the bird shall perch, that man is our king. In a few minutes the pigeon will fly.
Wait and see what happens.’
Every eye was fixed on the tall tower which stood in the centre of the chief square, and the moment
that the sun was seen to stand straight over it, a door was opened and a beautiful pigeon, gleaming
with pink and grey, blue and green, came rushing through the air. Onward it flew, onward, onward,
till at length it rested on the head of the boy. Then a great shout arose:
‘The king! the king!’ but as he listened to the cries, a vision, swifter than lightning, flashed across
his brain. He saw himself seated on a throne, spending his life trying, and never succeeding, to
make poor people rich; miserable people happy; bad people good; never doing anything he wished
to do, not able even to marry the girl that he loved.
‘No! no!’ he shrieked, hiding his face in his hands; but the crowds who heard him thought he was
overcome by the grandeur that awaited him, and paid no heed.
‘Well, to make quite sure, let fly more pigeons,’ said they, but each pigeon followed where the first
had led, and the cries arose louder than ever:
‘The king! the king!’ And as the young man heard, a cold shiver, that he knew not the meaning of,
ran through him.
[Pg 288] ‘This is fear whom you have so long sought,’ whispered a voice, which seemed to reach
his ears alone. And the youth bowed his head as the vision once more flashed before his eyes, and
he accepted his doom, and made ready to pass his life with fear beside him.
(Adapted from Türkische Volksmärchen. Von Dr. Ignaz Künos. E. J. Brill, Leiden.)
[Pg 289]
The young men arrived—tall and short, dark and fair, rich and poor. They stood in rows in the great
courtyard in front of the palace, and the princess, clad in robes of green, with a golden veil flowing
behind her, passed before them all, holding the apple. Once or twice she stopped and hesitated, but
in the end she always passed on, till she came to a youth near the end of the last row. There was
nothing specially remarkable about him, the [Pg 290] bystanders thought; nothing that was likely to
take a girl’s fancy. A hundred others were handsomer, and all wore finer clothes; but he met the
princess’s eyes frankly and with a smile, and she smiled too, and held out the apple.
‘There is some mistake,’ cried the king, who had anxiously watched her progress, and hoped that
none of the candidates would please her. ‘It is impossible that she can wish to marry the son of a
poor widow, who has not a farthing in the world! Tell her that I will not hear of it, and that she must
go through the rows again and fix upon someone else’; and the princess went through the rows a
second and a third time, and on each occasion she gave the apple to the widow’s son. ‘Well, marry
him if you will,’ exclaimed the angry king; ‘but at least you shall not stay here.’ And the princess
answered nothing, but threw up her head, and taking the widow’s son by the hand, they left the
castle.
That evening they were married, and after the ceremony went back to the house of the bridegroom’s
mother, which, in the eyes of the princess, did not look much bigger than a hen-coop.
The old woman was not at all pleased when her son entered bringing his bride with him.
‘As if we were not poor enough before,’ grumbled she. ‘I dare say this is some fine lady who can do
nothing to earn her living.’ But the princess stroked her arm, and said softly:
‘Do not be vexed, dear mother; I am a famous spinner, and can sit at my wheel all day without
breaking a thread.’
And she kept her word; but in spite of the efforts of all three, they became poorer and poorer; and at
the end of six months it was agreed that the husband should go to the neighbouring town to get
work. Here he met a merchant who was about to start on a long journey with a train of camels laden
with goods of all sorts, and needed [Pg 291] a man to help him. The widow’s son begged that he
would take him as a servant, and to this the merchant assented, giving him his whole year’s salary
beforehand. The young man returned home with the news, and next day bade farewell to his mother
and his wife, who were very sad at parting from him.
‘Do not forget me while you are absent,’ whispered the princess as she flung her arms round his
neck; ‘and as you pass by the well which lies near the city gate, stop and greet the old man you will
find sitting there. Kiss his hand, and then ask him what counsel he can give you for your journey.’
Then the youth set out, and when he reached the well where the old man was sitting he asked the
questions as his wife had bidden him.
‘My son,’ replied the old man, ‘you have done well to come to me, and in return remember three
things: “She whom the heart loves, is ever the most beautiful.” “Patience is the first step on the road
to happiness.” “He wins who waits.”’
The young man thanked him and went on his way. Next morning early the caravan set out, and
before sunset it had arrived at the first halting place, round some wells, where another company of
merchants had already encamped. But no rain had fallen for a long while in that rocky country, and
both men and beasts were parched with thirst. To be sure, there was another well about half a mile
away, where there was always water; but to get it you had to be lowered deep down, and, besides,
no one who had ever descended that well had been known to come back.
However, till they could store some water in their bags of goat-skin, the caravans dared not go
further into the desert, and on the night of the arrival of the widow’s son and his master, the
merchants had decided to offer a large reward to anyone who was brave enough to go down into the
enchanted well and bring some up. [Pg 292] Thus it happened that at sunrise the young man was
aroused from his sleep by a herald making his round of the camp, proclaiming that every merchant
present would give a thousand piastres to the man who would risk his life to bring water for
themselves and their camels.
The youth hesitated for a little while when he heard the proclamation. The story of the well had
spread far and wide, and long ago had reached his ears. The danger was great, he knew; but then, if
he came back alive, he would be the possessor of eighty thousand piastres. He turned to the herald
who was passing the tent:
‘I will go,’ said he.
‘What madness!’ cried his master, who happened to be standing near. ‘You are too young to throw
away your life like that. Run after the herald and tell him you take back your offer.’ But the young
man shook his head, and the merchant saw that it was useless to try and persuade him.
‘Well, it is your own affair,’ he observed at last. ‘If you must go, you must. Only, if you ever return,
I will give you a camel’s load of goods and my best mule besides.’ And touching his turban in token
of farewell, he entered the tent.
Hardly had he done so than a crowd of men were seen pouring out of the camp.
‘How can we thank you!’ they exclaimed, pressing round the youth. ‘Our camels as well as
ourselves are almost dead of thirst. See! here is the rope we have brought to let you down.’
‘Come, then,’ answered the youth. And they all set out.
On reaching the well, the rope was knotted securely under his arms, a big goat-skin bottle was given
him, and he was gently lowered to the bottom of the pit. Here a clear stream was bubbling over the
rocks, and, [Pg 293] stooping down, he was about to drink, when a huge Arab appeared before him,
saying in a loud voice:
‘Come with me!’
The young man rose, never doubting that his last hour had come; but as he could do nothing, he
followed the Arab into a brilliantly lighted hall, on the further side of the little river. There his guide
sat down, and drawing towards him two boys, one black and the other white, he said to the stranger:
‘I have a question to ask you. If you answer it right, your life shall be spared. If not, your head will
be forfeit, as the head of many another has been before you. Tell me: which of my two children do I
think the handsomer.’
The question did not seem a hard one, for while the white boy was as beautiful a child as ever was
seen, his brother was ugly even for a negro. But, just as the youth was going to speak, the old man’s
counsel flashed into the youth’s mind, and he replied hastily: ‘The one whom we love best is always
the handsomest.’
‘You have saved me!’ cried the Arab, rising quickly from his seat, and pressing the young man in
his arms. ‘Ah! if you could only guess what I have suffered from the stupidity of all the people to
whom I have put that question, and I was condemned by a wicked genius to remain here until it was
answered! But what brought you to this place, and how can I reward you for what you have done
for me?’
‘By helping me to draw enough water for my caravan of eighty merchants and their camels, who are
dying for want of it,’ replied the youth.
‘That is easily done,’ said the Arab. ‘Take these three apples, and when you have filled your skin,
and are ready to be drawn up, lay one of them on the ground. Half-way to the earth, let fall another,
and at the top, drop the third. If you follow my directions no harm will happen to you. And take,
besides, these three [Pg 294] pomegranates, green, red and white. One day you will find a use for
them!’
The young man did as he was told, and stepped out on the rocky waste, where the merchants were
anxiously awaiting him. Oh, how thirsty they all were! But even after the camels had drunk, the
skin seemed as full as ever.
Full of gratitude for their deliverance, the merchants pressed the money into his hands, while his
own master bade him choose what goods he liked, and a mule to carry them.
So the widow’s son was rich at last, and when the merchant had sold his merchandise, and returned
home to his native city, his servant hired a man by whom he sent the money and the mule back to
his wife.
‘I will send the pomegranates also,’ thought he ‘for if I leave them in my turban they may some day
fall out,’ and he drew them out of his turban. But the fruit had vanished, and in their places were
three precious stones, green, white and red.
For a long time he remained with the merchant, who gradually trusted him with all his business, and
gave him a large share of the money he made. When his master died, the young man wished to
return home, but the widow begged him to stay and help her; and one day he awoke with a start, to
remember that twenty years had passed since he had gone away.
‘I want to see my wife,’ he said next morning to his mistress. ‘If at any time I can be of use to you,
send a messenger to me; meanwhile, I have told Hassan what to do.’ And mounting a camel he set
out.
Now, soon after he had taken service with the merchant a little boy had been born to him, and both
the princess and the old woman toiled hard all day to get the baby food and clothing. When the
money and the pomegranates arrived there was no need for them to work [Pg 295] any more, and
the princess saw at once that they were not fruit at all, but precious stones of great value. The old
woman, however, not being accustomed, like her daughter-in-law, to the sight of jewels, took them
only for common fruit, and wished to give them to the child to eat. She was very angry when the
princess hastily took them from her and hid them in her dress, while she went to the market and
bought the three finest pomegranates she could find, which she handed the old woman for the little
boy.
Then she bought beautiful new clothes for all of them, and when they were dressed they looked as
fine as could be. Next, she took out one of the precious stones which her husband had sent her, and
placed it in a small silver box. This she wrapped up in a handkerchief embroidered in gold, and
filled the old woman’s pockets with gold and silver pieces.
‘Go, dear mother,’ she said, ‘to the palace, and present the jewel to the king, and if he asks you what
he can give you in return, tell him that you want a paper, with his seal attached, proclaiming that no
one is to meddle with anything you may choose to do. Before you leave the palace distribute the
money amongst the servants.’
The old woman took the box and started for the palace. No one there had ever seen a ruby of such
beauty, and the most famous jeweller in the town was summoned to declare its value. But all he
could say was:
‘If a boy threw a stone into the air with all his might, and you could pile up gold as high as the flight
of the stone, it would not be sufficient to pay for this ruby.’
At these words the king’s face fell. Having once seen the ruby he could not bear to part with it, yet
all the money in his treasury would not be enough to buy it. So for a little while he remained silent,
wondering what offer he could make the old woman, and at last he said:
[Pg 296] ‘If I cannot give you its worth in money, is there anything you will take in exchange?’
‘A paper signed by your hand, and sealed with your seal, proclaiming that I may do what I will,
without let or hindrance,’ answered she promptly. And the king, delighted to have obtained what he
coveted at so small a cost, gave her the paper without delay. Then the old woman took her leave and
returned home.
The fame of this wonderful ruby soon spread far and wide, and envoys arrived at the little house to
know if there were more stones to sell. Each king was so anxious to gain possession of the treasure
that he bade his messenger outbid all the rest, and so the princess sold the two remaining stones for
a sum of money so large that if the gold pieces had been spread out they would have reached from
here to the moon. The first thing she did was to build a palace by the side of the cottage, and it was
raised on pillars of gold, in which were set great diamonds, which blazed night and day. Of course
the news of this palace was the first thing that reached the king her father, on his return from the
wars, and he hurried to see it. In the doorway stood a young man of twenty, who was his grandson,
though neither of them knew it, and so pleased was the king with the appearance of the youth, that
he carried him back to his own palace, and made him commander of the whole army.
Not long after this, the widow’s son returned to his native land. There, sure enough, was the tiny
cottage where he had lived with his mother, but the gorgeous building beside it was quite new to
him. What had become of his wife and his mother, and who could be dwelling in that other
wonderful place. These were the first thoughts that flashed through his mind; but not wishing to
betray himself by asking questions of passing strangers, he climbed up into a tree that stood
opposite the palace and watched.
[Pg 297]
[Pg 299] By-and-by a lady came out, and began to gather some of the roses and jessamine that hung
about the porch. The twenty years that had passed since he had last beheld her vanished in an
instant, and he knew her to be his own wife, looking almost as young and beautiful as on the day of
their parting. He was about to jump down from the tree and hasten to her side, when she was joined
by a young man who placed his arm affectionately round her neck. At this sight the angry husband
drew his bow, but before he could let fly the arrow, the counsel of the wise man came back to him:
‘Patience is the first step on the road to happiness.’ And he laid it down again.
At this moment the princess turned, and drawing her companion’s head down to hers, kissed him on
each cheek. A second time blind rage filled the heart of the watcher, and he snatched up his bow
from the branch where it hung, when words, heard long since, seemed to sound in his ears:
‘He wins who waits.’ And the bow dropped to his side. Then, through the silent air came the sound
of the youth’s voice:
‘Mother, can you tell me nothing about my father? Does he still live, and will he never return to
us?’
‘Alas! my son, how can I answer you?’ replied the lady. ‘Twenty years have passed since he left us
to make his fortune, and, in that time, only once have I heard aught of him. But what has brought
him to your mind just now?’
‘Because last night I dreamed that he was here,’ said the youth, ‘and then I remembered what I have
so long forgotten, that I had a father, though even his very history was strange to me. And now, tell
me, I pray you, all you can concerning him.’
And standing under the jessamine, the son learnt his father’s history, and the man in the tree listened
also.
‘Oh,’ exclaimed the youth, when it was ended, while [Pg 300] he twisted his hands in pain, ‘I am
general-in-chief, you are the king’s daughter, and we have the most splendid palace in the whole
world, yet my father lives we know not where, and for all we can guess, may be poor and miserable.
To-morrow I will ask the king to give me soldiers, and I will seek him over the whole earth till I
find him.’
Then the man came down from the tree, and clasped his wife and son in his arms. All that night they
talked, and when the sun rose it still found them talking. But as soon as it was proper, he went up to
the palace to pay his homage to the king, and to inform him of all that had happened and who they
all really were. The king was overjoyed to think that his daughter, whom he had long since forgiven
and sorely missed, was living at his gates, and was, besides, the mother of the youth who was so
dear to him. ‘It was written beforehand,’ cried the monarch. ‘You are my son-in-law before the
world, and shall be king after me.’
And the man bowed his head.
He had waited; and he had won.
(From Contes Arméniens. Par Frédéric Macler.)
[Pg 301]
[Pg 305]
[Pg 318]
After three months they found themselves on the top of another mountain, and the prince saw with
surprise that its sides were coloured a beautiful red. Perched on some cliffs, not far off, was a small
village, and the prince proposed to his friend that they should go and rest there. The villagers, on
their part, welcomed them gladly, and gave them food to eat and beds to sleep on, and thankful
indeed were the two travellers to repose their weary limbs.
The next morning they asked their host if he could [Pg 321] tell them whether they were still many
days’ journey from the princess, and whether he knew why the mountain was so much redder than
other mountains.
‘For three and a half more months you must still pursue your way,’ answered he, ‘and by that time
you will find yourselves at the gate of the princess’s palace. As for the colour of the mountain, that
comes from the soft hue of her cheeks and mouth, which shines through the seven veils which cover
her. But none have ever beheld her face, for she sits there, uttering no word, though one hears
whispers of many having lost their lives for her sake.’
The prince, however, would listen no further; and thanking the man for his kindness, he jumped up
and, with the steward, set out to climb the mountain.
On and on and on they went, sleeping under the trees or in caves, and living upon berries and any
fish they could catch in the rivers. But at length, when their clothes were nearly in rags and their
legs so tired that they could hardly walk any further, they saw on the top of the next mountain a
palace of yellow marble.
‘There it is, at last,’ cried the prince; and fresh blood seemed to spring in his veins. But as he and his
companion began to climb towards the top they paused in horror, for the ground was white with
dead men’s skulls. It was the prince who first recovered his voice, and he said to his friend, as
carelessly as he could:
‘These must be the skulls of the men who tried to make the princess speak and failed. Well, if we
fail too, our bones will strew the ground likewise.’
‘Oh! turn back now, my prince, while there is yet time,’ entreated his companion. ‘Your father gave
you into my charge; but when we set out I did not know that certain death lay before us.’
‘Take heart, O Lala, take heart!’ answered the prince. ‘A man can but die once. And, besides, the
princess will have to speak some day, you know.’
[Pg 322] So they went on again, past skulls and dead men’s bones in all degrees of whiteness. And
by-and-by they reached another village, where they determined to rest for a little while, so that their
wits might be fresh and bright for the task that lay before them. But this time, though the people
were kind and friendly, their faces were gloomy, and every now and then woeful cries would rend
the air.
‘Oh! my brother, have I lost you?’ ‘Oh! my son, shall I see you no more?’ And then, as the prince
and his companion asked the meaning of these laments—which, indeed, was plain enough—the
answer was given:
‘Ah, you also have come hither to die! This town belongs to the father of the princess, and when
any rash man seeks to move the princess to speech he must first obtain leave of the sultan. If that is
granted him he is then led into the presence of the princess. What happens afterwards, perhaps the
sight of these bones may help you to guess.’
The young man bowed his head in token of thanks, and stood thoughtful for a short time. Then,
turning to the Lala, he said:
‘Well, our destiny will soon be decided! Meanwhile we will find out all we can, and do nothing
rashly.’
For two or three days they wandered about the bazaars, keeping their eyes and ears open, when, one
morning, they met a man carrying a nightingale in a cage. The bird was singing so joyously that the
prince stopped to listen, and at once offered to buy him from his owner.
‘Oh, why cumber yourself with such a useless thing,’ cried the Lala in disgust; ‘have you not
enough to occupy your hands and mind, without taking an extra burden?’ But the prince, who liked
having his own way, paid no heed to him, and paying the high price asked by the man, he carried
the bird back to the inn, and hung him up in his chamber. That evening, as he was sitting alone,
trying to think of something that would make the princess talk, [Pg 323] and failing altogether, the
nightingale pecked open her cage door, which was lightly fastened by a stick, and, perching on his
shoulder, murmured softly in his ear:
‘What makes you so sad, my prince?’ The young man started. In his native country birds did not
talk, and, like many people, he was always rather afraid of what he did not understand. But in a
moment he felt ashamed of his folly, and explained that he had travelled for more than a year, and
over thousands of miles, to win the hand of the sultan’s daughter. And now that he had reached his
goal he could think of no plan to force her to speak.
‘Oh! do not trouble your head about that,’ replied the bird, ‘it is quite easy! Go this evening to the
women’s apartments, and take me with you, and when you enter the princess’s private chamber hide
me under the pedestal which supports the great golden candlestick. The princess herself will be
wrapped so thickly in her seven veils that she can see nothing, neither can her face be seen by
anyone. Then inquire after her health, but she will remain quite silent; and next say that you are
sorry to have disturbed her, and that you will have a little talk with the pedestal of the candlestick.
When you speak I will answer.’
The prince threw his mantle over the bird, and started for the palace, where he begged an audience
of the sultan. This was soon granted him, and leaving the nightingale hidden by the mantle, in a
dark corner outside the door, he walked up to the throne on which his highness was sitting, and
bowed low before him.
‘What is your request?’ asked the sultan, looking closely at the young man, who was tall and
handsome; but when he heard the tale he shook his head pityingly.
‘If you can make her speak she shall be your wife,’ answered he; ‘but if not—did you mark the
skulls that strewed the mountain side?’
‘Some day a man is bound to break the spell, O sultan,’ [Pg 324] replied the youth boldly; ‘and why
should not I be he as well as another? At any rate, my word is pledged, and I cannot draw back
now.’
‘Well, go if you must,’ said the sultan. And he bade his attendants lead the way to the chamber of
the princess, but to allow the young man to enter alone.
Catching up, unseen, his mantle and the cage as they passed into the dark corridor—for by this time
night was coming on—the youth found himself standing in a room bare except for a pile of silken
cushions, and one tall golden candlestick. His heart beat high as he looked at the cushions, and
knew that, shrouded within the shining veils that covered them, lay the much longed-for princess.
Then, fearful that after all other eyes might be watching him, he hastily placed the nightingale under
the open pedestal on which the candlestick was resting, and turning again he steadied his voice, and
besought the princess to tell him of her well-being.
Not by even a movement of her hand did the princess show that she had heard, and the young man,
who of course expected this, went on to speak of his travels and of the strange countries he had
passed through; but not a sound broke the silence.
‘I see clearly that you are interested in none of these things,’ said he at last, ‘and as I have been
forced to hold my peace for so many months, I feel that now I really must talk to somebody, so I
shall go and address my conversation to the candlestick.’ And with that he crossed the room behind
the princess, and cried: ‘O fairest of candlesticks, how are you?’
‘Very well indeed, my lord,’ answered the nightingale; ‘but I wonder how many years have gone by
since any one has spoken with me. And, now that you have come, rest, I pray you, awhile, and listen
to my story.’
‘Willingly,’ replied the youth, curling himself up on the floor, for there was no cushion for him to sit
on.
[Pg 325] ‘Once upon a time,’ began the nightingale, ‘there lived a pasha whose daughter was the
most beautiful maiden in the whole kingdom. Suitors she had in plenty, but she was not easy to
please, and at length there were only three whom she felt she could even think of marrying. Not
knowing which of the three she liked best, she took counsel with her father, who summoned the
young men into his presence, and then told them that they must each of them learn some trade, and
whichever of them proved the cleverest at the end of six months should become the husband of the
princess.
‘Though the three suitors may have been secretly disappointed, they could not help feeling that this
test was quite fair, and left the palace together, talking as they went of what handicrafts they might
set themselves to follow. The day was hot, and when they reached a spring that gushed out of the
side of the mountain, they stopped to drink and rest, and then one of them said:
‘“It will be best that we should each seek our fortunes alone; so let us put our rings under this stone,
and go our separate ways. And the first one who returns hither will take his ring, and the others will
take theirs. Thus we shall know whether we have all fulfilled the commands of the pasha, or if some
accident has befallen any of us.”
‘“Good,” replied the other two. And three rings were placed in a little hole, and carefully covered
again by the stone.
‘Then they parted, and for six months they knew naught of each other, till, on the day appointed,
they met at the spring. Right glad they all were, and eagerly they talked of what they had done, and
how the time had been spent.
‘“I think I shall win the princess,” said the eldest, with a laugh, “for it is not everybody that is able
to accomplish a whole year’s journey in an hour!”
‘“That is very clever, certainly,” answered his friend; “but if you are to govern a kingdom it may be
still more [Pg 326] useful to have the power of seeing what is happening at a distance; and that is
what I have learnt,” replied the second.
‘“No, no, my dear comrades,” cried the third, “your trades are all very well; but when the pasha
hears that I can bring back the dead to life he will know which of us three is to be his son-in-law.
But come, there only remain a few hours of the six months he granted us. It is time that we hastened
back to the palace.”
‘“Stop a moment,” said the second, “it would be well to know what is going on in the palace.” And
plucking some small leaves from a tree near by, he muttered some words and made some signs, and
laid them on his eyes. In an instant he turned pale, and uttered a cry.
‘“What is it? What is it?” exclaimed the others; and, with a shaking voice, he gasped:
‘“The princess is lying on her bed, and has barely a few minutes to live. Oh! can no one save her?”
‘“I can,” answered the third, taking a small box from his turban; “this ointment will cure any illness.
But how to reach her in time?”
‘“Give it to me,” said the first. And he wished himself by the bedside of the princess, which was
surrounded by the sultan and his weeping courtiers. Clearly there was not a second to lose, for the
princess had grown unconscious, and her face cold. Plunging his finger into the ointment he
touched her eyes, mouth and ears with the paste, and with beating heart awaited the result.
‘It was swifter than he supposed. As he looked the colour came back into her cheeks, and she smiled
up at her father. The sultan, almost speechless with joy at this sudden change, embraced his
daughter tenderly, and then turned to the young man to whom he owed her life:
‘“Are you not one of those three whom I sent forth to learn a trade six months ago?” asked he. And
the [Pg 327] young man answered yes, and that the other two were even now on their way to the
palace, so that the sultan might judge between them.’
At this point in his story the nightingale stopped, and asked the prince which of the three he thought
had the best right to the princess.
‘The one who had learned how to prepare the ointment,’ replied he.
‘But if it had not been for the man who could see what was happening at a distance they would
never have known that the princess was ill,’ said the nightingale. ‘I would give it to him.’ And the
strife between them waxed hot, [Pg 328] till, suddenly, the listening princess started up from her
cushions and cried:
‘Oh, you fools! cannot you understand that if it had not been for him who had power to reach the
palace in time the ointment itself would have been useless, for death would have claimed her? It is
he and no other who ought to have the princess!’
At the first sound of the princess’s voice, a slave, who was standing at the door, ran at full speed to
tell the sultan of the miracle which had taken place, and the delighted father hastened to the spot.
But by this time the princess perceived that she had fallen into a trap which had been cunningly laid
for her, and would not utter another word. All she could be prevailed on to do was to make signs to
her father that the man who wished to be her husband must induce her to speak three times. And she
smiled to herself beneath her seven veils as she thought of the impossibility of that.
When the sultan told the prince that though he had succeeded once, he would have twice to pass
through the same test, the young man’s face clouded over. It did not seem to him fair play, but he
dared not object, so he only bowed low, and contrived to step back close to the spot where the
nightingale was hidden. As it was now quite dark he tucked unseen the little cage under his cloak,
and left the palace.
‘Why are you so gloomy?’ asked the nightingale, as soon as they were safely outside. ‘Everything
has gone exactly right! Of course the princess was very angry with herself for having spoken. And
did you see that, at her first words, the veils that covered her began to rend? Take me back to-
morrow evening, and place me on the pillar by the lattice. Fear nothing, you have only to trust to
me!’
The next evening, towards sunset, the prince left the cage behind him, and with the bird in the folds
of his garment slipped into the palace and made his way straight [Pg 329] to the princess’s
apartments. He was at once admitted by the slaves who guarded the door, and took care to pass near
the window so that the nightingale hopped unseen to the top of a pillar. Then he turned and bowed
low to the princess, and asked her several questions; but, as before, she answered nothing, and,
indeed, gave no sign that she heard. After a few minutes the young man bowed again, and crossing
over to the window, he said:
‘Oh, pillar! it is no use speaking to the princess, she will not utter one word; and as I must talk to
somebody, I have come to you. Tell me how you have been all this long while?’
‘I thank you,’ replied a voice from the pillar, ‘I am feeling very well. And it is lucky for me that the
princess is silent, or else you would not have wanted to speak to me. To reward you, I will relate to
you an interesting tale that I lately overheard, and about which I should like to have your opinion.’
‘That will be charming,’ answered the prince, ‘so pray begin at once.’
‘Once upon a time,’ said the nightingale, ‘there lived a woman who was so beautiful that every man
who saw her fell in love with her. But she was very hard to please, and refused to wed any of them,
though she managed to keep friends with all. Years passed away in this manner, almost without her
noticing them, and one by one the young men grew tired of waiting, and sought wives who may
have been less handsome, but were also less proud, and at length only three of her former wooers
remained—Baldschi, Jagdschi, and Firedschi. Still she held herself apart, thought herself better and
lovelier than other women, when, on a certain evening, her eyes were opened at last to the truth. She
was sitting before her mirror, combing her curls, when amongst her raven locks she found a long
white hair!
‘At this dreadful sight her heart gave a jump, and then stood still.
[Pg 330] ‘“I am growing old,” she said to herself, “and if I do not choose a husband soon, I shall
never get one! I know that either of those men would gladly marry me to-morrow, but I cannot
decide between them. I must invent some way to find out which of them is the best, and lose no
time about it.”
‘So instead of going to sleep, she thought all night long of different plans, and in the morning she
arose and dressed herself.
‘“That will have to do,” she muttered as she pulled out the white hair which had cost her so much
trouble. “It is not very good, but I can think of nothing better; and—well, they are none of them
clever, and I dare say they will easily fall into the trap.” Then she called her slave and bade her let
Jagdschi know that she would be ready to receive him in an hour’s time. After that she went into the
garden and dug a grave under a tree, by which she laid a white shroud.
‘Jagdschi was delighted to get the gracious message; and, putting on his newest garments, he
hastened to the lady’s house, but great was his dismay at finding her stretched on her cushions,
weeping bitterly.
‘“What is the matter, O Fair One?” he asked, bowing low before her.
‘“A terrible thing has happened,” said she, her voice choked with sobs. “My father died two nights
ago, and I buried him in my garden. But now I find that he was a wizard, and was not dead at all,
for his grave is empty and he is wandering about somewhere in the world.”
‘“That is evil news indeed,” answered Jagdschi; “but can I do nothing to comfort you?”
‘“There is one thing you can do,” replied she, “and that is to wrap yourself in the shroud and lay
yourself in the grave. If he should not return till after three hours have elapsed he will have lost his
power over me, and be forced to go and wander elsewhere.”
‘Now Jagdschi was proud of the trust reposed in [Pg 331] him, and wrapping himself in the shroud,
he stretched himself at full length in the grave. After some time Baldschi arrived in his turn, and
found the lady groaning and lamenting. She told him that her father had been a wizard, and that in
case, as was very likely, he should wish to leave his grave and come to work her evil, Baldschi was
to take a stone and be ready to crush in his head, if he showed signs of moving.
‘Baldschi, enchanted at being able to do his lady a service, picked up a stone, and seated himself by
the side of the grave wherein lay Jagdschi.
‘Meanwhile the hour arrived in which Firedschi was accustomed to pay his respects, and, as in the
case of the other two, he discovered the lady overcome with grief. To him she said that a wizard
who was an enemy of her father’s had thrown the dead man out of his grave, and had taken his
place. “But,” she added, “if you can bring the wizard into my presence, all his power will go from
him; if not, then I am lost.”
‘“Ah, lady, what is there that I would not do for you!” cried Firedschi; and running down to the
grave, he seized the astonished Jagdschi by the waist, and flinging the body over his shoulder, he
hastened with him into the house. At the first moment Baldschi was so surprised at this turn of
affairs, for which the lady had not prepared him, that he sat still and did nothing. But by-and-by he
sprang up and hurled the stone after the two flying figures, hoping that it might kill them both.
Fortunately it touched neither, and soon all three were in the presence of the lady. Then Jagdschi,
thinking that he had delivered her from the power of the wizard, slid off the back of Firedschi, and
threw the shroud from him.’
‘Tell me, my prince,’ said the nightingale, when he had finished his story, ‘which of the three men
deserved to win the lady? I myself should choose Firedschi.’
‘No, no,’ answered the prince, who understood the wink the bird had given him; ‘it was Baldschi
who [Pg 332] took the most trouble, and it was certainly he who deserved the lady.’
But the nightingale would not agree; and they began to quarrel, till a third voice broke in:
‘How can you talk such nonsense?’ cried the princess—and as she spoke a sound of tearing was
heard. ‘Why, you have never even thought of Jagdschi, who lay for three hours in the grave, with a
stone held over his head! Of course it was he whom the lady chose for her husband!’
It was not many minutes before the news reached the sultan; but even now he would not consent to
the marriage till his daughter had spoken a third time. On hearing this, the young man took counsel
with the nightingale how best to accomplish this, and the bird told him that as the princess, in her
fury at having fallen into the snare laid for her, had ordered the pillar to be broken in pieces, he
must be hidden in the folds of a curtain that hung by the door.
The following evening the prince entered the palace, and walked boldly up to the princess’s
apartments. As he entered the nightingale flew from under his arm and perched himself on top of
the door, where he was entirely concealed by the folds of the dark curtain. The young man talked as
usual to the princess without obtaining a single word in reply, and at length he left her lying under
the heap of shining veils—now rent in many places—and crossed the room towards the door, from
which came a voice that gladly answered him.
For a while the two talked together: then the nightingale asked if the prince was fond of stories, as
he had lately heard one which interested and perplexed him greatly. In reply, the prince begged that
he might hear it at once, and without further delay the nightingale began:
[Pg 333]
‘Once upon a time, a carpenter, a tailor, and a student set out together to see the world. After
wandering about [Pg 335] for some months they grew tired of travelling, and resolved to stay and
rest in a small town that took their fancy. So they hired a little house, and looked about for work to
do, returning at sunset to smoke their pipes and talk over the events of the day.
‘One night in the middle of summer it was hotter than usual, and the carpenter found himself unable
to sleep. Instead of tossing about on his cushions, making himself more uncomfortable than he was
already, the man wisely got up and drank some coffee and lit his long pipe. Suddenly his eye fell on
some pieces of wood in a corner and, being very clever with his fingers, he had soon set up a perfect
statue of a girl about fourteen years old. This so pleased and quieted him that he grew quite drowsy,
and going back to bed fell fast asleep.
‘But the carpenter was not the only person who lay awake that night. Thunder was in the air, and the
tailor became so restless that he thought he would go downstairs and cool his feet in the little
fountain outside the garden door. To reach the door he had to pass through the room where the
carpenter had sat and smoked, and against the wall he beheld standing a beautiful girl. He stood
speechless for an instant before he ventured to touch her hand, when, to his amazement, he found
that she was fashioned out of wood.
‘“Ah! I can make you more beautiful still,” said he. And fetching from a shelf a roll of yellow silk
which he had bought that day from a merchant, he cut and draped and stitched, till at length a lovely
robe clothed the slender figure. When this was finished, the restlessness had departed from him, and
he went back to bed.
‘As dawn approached the student arose and prepared to go to the mosque with the first ray of
sunlight. But, when he saw the maiden standing there, he fell on his knees and lifted his hands in
ecstasy.
[Pg 336] ‘“Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air, clad in the beauty of ten thousand stars,” he
murmured to himself. “Surely a form so rare was never meant to live without a soul.” And forthwith
he prayed with all his might that life should be breathed into it.
‘And his prayer was heard, and the beautiful statue became a living girl, and the three men all fell in
love with her, and each desired to have her to wife.
‘Now,’ said the nightingale, ‘to which of them did the maiden really belong? It seems to me that the
carpenter had the best right to her.’
‘Oh, but the student would never have thought of praying that she might be given a soul had not the
tailor drawn attention to her loveliness by the robe which he put upon her,’ answered the prince,
who guessed what he was expected to say: and they soon set up quite a pretty quarrel. Suddenly the
princess, furious that neither of them alluded to the part played by the student, quite forgot her vow
of silence and cried loudly:
‘Idiots that you are! how could she belong to any one but the student? If it had not been for him, all
that the others did would have gone for nothing! Of course it was he who married the maiden!’ And
as she spoke the seven veils fell from her, and she stood up, the fairest princess that the world has
ever seen.
‘You have won me,’ she said smiling, holding out her hand to the prince.
And so they were married: and after the wedding-feast was over they sent for the old woman whose
pitcher the prince had broken so long ago, and she dwelt in the palace, and became nurse to their
children, and lived happily till she died.
(Adapted from Türkische Volksmärchen aus Stambul gesammelt, übersetzt und eingeleitet von Dr.
Ignaz Künos. Brill, Leiden.)
Transcriber's Note
Punctuation errors have been repaired. Hyphenation has been made consistent. Archaic spelling is
preserved as printed.
The following typographic errors have been amended:
Page v—geni amended to genii—"... present legends of fairies, witches, genii or Djinn, ..."
Page vi—Antony amended to Anthony—"Anthony Hamilton tried his hand with The Ram, a story
too prolix and confused, ..."
Page 31—Gerthari amended to Grethari—"... it boded ill for Geirlaug and Grethari ..." and "... the
beds of Grethari and Geirlaug were empty."
Page 125—By-and-bye amended to By-and-by—"By-and-by it came to the ears of the Princess
Kupti ..."
Page 187—Centes amended to Contes—"Adapted from Contes Arméniens. Par Frédéric Macler, ..."
Page 233—Louis amended to Frédéric—"From Contes Arméniens. Par Frédéric Macler."
Page 260—ancles amended to ankles—"... the robber-chief came out of the hole and seized her
ankles."
Page 275—Fra amended to From—"From Eventyr fra Gylbauck samlede ..."
Page 275—Kri ensen amended to Kristensen—"... samlede og optegnede af Evald Tang
Kristensen."
Page 336—Brilla amended to Brill—"... von Dr. Ignaz Künos. Brill, Leiden."
Advertising material and the frontispiece have been moved to follow the title page. Other
illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph.
Omitted page numbers were blank pages in the original.