Kitabı oku: «The Brown Fairy Book», sayfa 10

How Some Wild Animals Became Tame Ones

Once upon a time there lived a miller who was so rich that, when he was going to be married, he asked to the feast not only his own friends but also the wild animals who dwelt in the hills and woods round about. The chief of the bears, the wolves, the foxes, the horses, the cows, the goats, the sheep, and the reindeer, all received invitations; and as they were not accustomed to weddings they were greatly pleased and flattered, and sent back messages in the politest language that they would certainly be there.

The first to start on the morning of the wedding-day was the bear, who always liked to be punctual; and, besides, he had a long way to go, and his hair, being so thick and rough, needed a good brushing before it was fit to be seen at a party. However, he took care to awaken very early, and set off down the road with a light heart. Before he had walked very far he met a boy who came whistling along, hitting at the tops of the flowers with a stick.

‘Where are you going?’ said he, looking at the bear in surprise, for he was an old acquaintance, and not generally so smart.

‘Oh, just to the miller’s marriage,’ answered the bear carelessly. ‘Of course, I would much rather stay at home, but the miller was so anxious I should be there that I really could not refuse.’

‘Don’t go, don’t go!’ cried the boy. ‘If you do you will never come back! You have got the most beautiful skin in the world – just the kind that everyone is wanting, and they will be sure to kill you and strip you of it.’

‘I had not thought of that,’ said the bear, whose face turned white, only nobody could see it. ‘If you are certain that they would be so wicked – but perhaps you are jealous because nobody has invited you?’

‘Oh, nonsense!’ replied the boy angrily, ‘do as you see. It is your skin, and not mine; I don’t care what becomes of it!’ And he walked quickly on with his head in the air.

The bear waited until he was out of sight, and then followed him slowly, for he felt in his heart that the boy’s advice was good, though he was too proud to say so.

The boy soon grew tired of walking along the road, and turned off into the woods, where there were bushes he could jump and streams he could wade; but he had not gone far before he met the wolf.

‘Where are you going?’ asked he, for it was not the first time he had seen him.

‘Oh, just to the miller’s marriage,’ answered the wolf, as the bear had done before him. ‘It is rather tiresome, of course – weddings are always so stupid; but still one must be good-natured!’

‘Don’t go!’ said the boy again. ‘Your skin is so thick and warm, and winter is not far off now. They will kill you, and strip it from you.’

The wolf’s jaw dropped in astonishment and terror. ‘Do you really think that would happen?’ he gasped.

‘Yes, to be sure, I do,’ answered the boy. ‘But it is your affair, not mine. So good-morning,’ and on he went. The wolf stood still for a few minutes, for he was trembling all over, and then crept quietly back to his cave.

Next the boy met the fox, whose lovely coat of silvery grey was shining in the sun.

‘You look very fine!’ said the boy, stopping to admire him, ‘are you going to the miller’s wedding too?’

‘Yes,’ answered the fox; ‘it is a long journey to take for such a thing as that, but you know what the miller’s friends are like – so dull and heavy! It is only kind to go and amuse them a little.’

‘You poor fellow,’ said the boy pityingly. ‘Take my advice and stay at home. If you once enter the miller’s gate his dogs will tear you in pieces.’

‘Ah, well, such things have occurred, I know,’ replied the fox gravely. And without saying any more he trotted off the way he had come.

His tail had scarcely disappeared, when a great noise of crashing branches was heard, and up bounded the horse, his black skin glistening like satin.

‘Good-morning,’ he called to the boy as he galloped past, ‘I can’t wait to talk to you now. I have promised the miller to be present at his wedding-feast, and they won’t sit down till I come.’

‘Stop! stop!’ cried the boy after him, and there was something in his voice that made the horse pull up. ‘What is the matter?’ asked he.

‘You don’t know what you are doing,’ said the boy. ‘If once you go there you will never gallop through these woods any more. You are stronger than many men, but they will catch you and put ropes round you, and you will have to work and to serve them all the days of your life.’

The horse threw back his head at these words, and laughed scornfully.

‘Yes, I am stronger than many men,’ answered he, ‘and all the ropes in the world would not hold me. Let them bind me as fast as they will, I can always break loose, and return to the forest and freedom.’

And with this proud speech he gave a whisk of his long tail, and galloped away faster than before.

But when he reached the miller’s house everything happened as the boy had said. While he was looking at the guests and thinking how much handsomer and stronger he was than any of them, a rope was suddenly flung over his head, and he was thrown down and a bit thrust between his teeth. Then, in spite of his struggles, he was dragged to a stable, and shut up for several days without any food, till his spirit was broken and his coat had lost its gloss. After that he was harnessed to a plough, and had plenty of time to remember all he had lost through not listening to the counsel of the boy.

When the horse had turned a deaf ear to his words the boy wandered idly along, sometimes gathering wild strawberries from a bank, and sometimes plucking wild cherries from a tree, till he reached a clearing in the middle of the forest. Crossing this open space was a beautiful milk-white cow with a wreath of flowers round her neck.

‘Good-morning,’ she said pleasantly, as she came up to the place where the boy was standing.

‘Good-morning,’ he returned. ‘Where are you going in such a hurry?’

‘To the miller’s wedding; I am rather late already, for the wreath took such a long time to make, so I can’t stop.’

‘Don’t go,’ said the boy earnestly;’ when once they have tasted your milk they will never let you leave them, and you will have to serve them all the days of your life.’

‘Oh, nonsense; what do you know about it?’ answered the cow, who always thought she was wiser than other people. ‘Why, I can run twice as fast as any of them! I should like to see anybody try to keep me against my will.’ And, without even a polite bow, she went on her way, feeling very much offended.

But everything turned out just as the boy had said. The company had all heard of the fame of the cow’s milk, and persuaded her to give them some, and then her doom was sealed. A crowd gathered round her, and held her horns so that she could not use them, and, like the horse, she was shut in the stable, and only let out in the mornings, when a long rope was tied round her head, and she was fastened to a stake in a grassy meadow.

And so it happened to the goat and to the sheep.

Last of all came the reindeer, looking as he always did, as if some serious business was on hand.

‘Where are you going?’ asked the boy, who by this time was tired of wild cherries, and was thinking of his dinner.

‘I am invited to the wedding,’ answered the reindeer, ‘and the miller has begged me on no account to fail him.’

‘O fool!’ cried the boy, ‘have you no sense at all? Don’t you know that when you get there they will hold you fast, for neither beast nor bird is as strong or as swift as you?’

‘That is exactly why I am quite safe,’ replied the reindeer. ‘I am so strong that no one can bind me, and so swift that not even an arrow can catch me. So, goodbye for the present, you will soon see me back.’

But none of the animals that went to the miller’s wedding ever came back. And because they were self-willed and conceited, and would not listen to good advice, they and their children have been the servants of men to this very day.

[Lapplandische Mahrchen.]

Fortune and the Wood-Cutter

Several hundreds of years ago there lived in a forest a wood-cutter and his wife and children. He was very poor, having only his axe to depend upon, and two mules to carry the wood he cut to the neighbouring town; but he worked hard, and was always out of bed by five o’clock, summer and winter.

This went on for twenty years, and though his sons were now grown up, and went with their father to the forest, everything seemed to go against them, and they remained as poor as ever. In the end the wood-cutter lost heart, and said to himself:

‘What is the good of working like this if I never am a penny the richer at the end? I shall go to the forest no more! And perhaps, if I take to my bed, and do not run after Fortune, one day she may come to me.’

So the next morning he did not get up, and when six o’clock struck, his wife, who had been cleaning the house, went to see what was the matter.

‘Are you ill?’ she asked wonderingly, surprised at not finding him dressed. ‘The cock has crowed ever so often. It is high time for you to get up.’

‘Why should I get up?’ asked the man, without moving.

‘Why? to go to the forest, of course.’

‘Yes; and when I have toiled all day I hardly earn enough to give us one meal.’

‘But what can we do, my poor husband?’ said she. ‘It is just a trick of Fortune’s, who would never smile upon us.’

‘Well, I have had my fill of Fortune’s tricks,’ cried he. ‘If she wants me she can find me here. But I have done with the wood for ever.’

‘My dear husband, grief has driven you mad! Do you think Fortune will come to anybody who does not go after her? Dress yourself, and saddle the mules, and begin your work. Do you know that there is not a morsel of bread in the house?’

‘I don’t care if there isn’t, and I am not going to the forest. It is no use your talking; nothing will make me change my mind.’

The distracted wife begged and implored in vain; her husband persisted in staying in bed, and at last, in despair, she left him and went back to her work.

An hour or two later a man from the nearest village knocked at her door, and when she opened it, he said to her: ‘Good-morning, mother. I have got a job to do, and I want to know if your husband will lend me your mules, as I see he is not using them, and can lend me a hand himself?’

‘He is upstairs; you had better ask him,’ answered the woman. And the man went up, and repeated his request.

‘I am sorry, neighbour, but I have sworn not to leave my bed, and nothing will make me break my vow.’

‘Well, then, will you lend me your two mules? I will pay you something for them.’

‘Certainly, neighbour. Take them and welcome.’

So the man left the house, and leading the mules from the stable, placed two sacks on their back, and drove them to a field where he had found a hidden treasure. He filled the sacks with the money, though he knew perfectly well that it belonged to the sultan, and was driving them quietly home again, when he saw two soldiers coming along the road. Now the man was aware that if he was caught he would be condemned to death, so he fled back into the forest. The mules, left to themselves, took the path that led to their master’s stable.

The wood-cutter’s wife was looking out of the window when the mules drew up before the door, so heavily laden that they almost sank under their burdens. She lost no time in calling her husband, who was still lying in bed.

‘Quick! quick! get up as fast as you can. Our two mules have returned with sacks on their backs, so heavily laden with something or other that the poor beasts can hardly stand up.’

‘Wife, I have told you a dozen times already that I am not going to get up. Why can’t you leave me in peace?’

As she found she could get no help from her husband the woman took a large knife and cut the cords which bound the sacks on to the animals’ backs. They fell at once to the ground, and out poured a rain of gold pieces, till the little court-yard shone like the sun.

‘A treasure!’ gasped the woman, as soon as she could speak from surprise. ‘A treasure!’ And she ran off to tell her husband.

‘Get up! get up!’ she cried. ‘You were quite right not to go to the forest, and to await Fortune in your bed; she has come at last! Our mules have returned home laden with all the gold in the world, and it is now lying in the court. No one in the whole country can be as rich as we are!’

In an instant the wood-cutter was on his feet, and running to the court, where he paused dazzled by the glitter of the coins which lay around him.

‘You see, my dear wife, that I was right,’ he said at last. ‘Fortune is so capricious, you can never count on her. Run after her, and she is sure to fly from you; stay still, and she is sure to come.’

[Traditions Populaires de l’Asie Mineure.]

The Enchanted Head

Once upon a time an old woman lived in a small cottage near the sea with her two daughters. They were very poor, and the girls seldom left the house, as they worked all day long making veils for the ladies to wear over their faces, and every morning, when the veils were finished, the other took them over the bridge and sold them in the city. Then she bought the food that they needed for the day, and returned home to do her share of veil-making.

One morning the old woman rose even earlier than usual, and set off for the city with her wares. She was just crossing the bridge when, suddenly, she knocked up against a human head, which she had never seen there before. The woman started back in horror; but what was her surprise when the head spoke, exactly as if it had a body joined on to it.

‘Take me with you, good mother!’ it said imploringly; ‘take me with you back to your house.’

At the sound of these words the poor woman nearly went mad with terror. Have that horrible thing always at home? Never! never! And she turned and ran back as fast as she could, not knowing that the head was jumping, dancing, and rolling after her. But when she reached her own door it bounded in before her, and stopped in front of the fire, begging and praying to be allowed to stay.

All that day there was no food in the house, for the veils had not been sold, and they had no money to buy anything with. So they all sat silent at their work, inwardly cursing the head which was the cause of their misfortunes.

When evening came, and there was no sign of supper, the head spoke, for the first time that day:

‘Good mother, does no one ever eat here? During all the hours I have spent in your house not a creature has touched anything.’

‘No,’ answered the old woman, ‘we are not eating anything.’

‘And why not, good mother?’

‘Because we have no money to buy any food.’

‘Is it your custom never to eat?’

‘No, for every morning I go into the city to sell my veils, and with the few shillings I get for them I buy all we want. To-day I did not cross the bridge, so of course I had nothing for food.’

‘Then I am the cause of your having gone hungry all day?’ asked the head.

‘Yes, you are,’ answered the old woman.

‘Well, then, I will give you money and plenty of it, if you will only do as I tell you. In an hour, as the clock strikes twelve, you must be on the bridge at the place where you met me. When you get there call out “Ahmed,” three times, as loud as you can. Then a negro will appear, and you must say to him: “The head, your master, desires you to open the trunk, and to give me the green purse which you will find in it.”’

‘Very well, my lord,’ said the old woman, ‘I will set off at once for the bridge.’ And wrapping her veil round her she went out.

Midnight was striking as she reached the spot where she had met the head so many hours before.

‘Ahmed! Ahmed! Ahmed!’ cried she, and immediately a huge negro, as tall as a giant, stood on the bridge before her.

‘What do you want?’ asked he.

‘The head, your master, desires you to open the trunk, and to give me the green purse which you will find in it.’

‘I will be back in a moment, good mother,’ said he. And three minutes later he placed a purse full of sequins in the old woman’s hand.

No one can imagine the joy of the whole family at the sight of all this wealth. The tiny, tumble-down cottage was rebuilt, the girls had new dresses, and their mother ceased selling veils. It was such a new thing to them to have money to spend, that they were not as careful as they might have been, and by-and-by there was not a single coin left in the purse. When this happened their hearts sank within them, and their faces fell.

‘Have you spent your fortune?’ asked the head from its corner, when it saw how sad they looked. ‘Well, then, go at midnight, good mother, to the bridge, and call out “Mahomet!” three times, as loud as you can. A negro will appear in answer, and you must tell him to open the trunk, and to give you the red purse which he will find there.’

The old woman did not need twice telling, but set off at once for the bridge.

‘Mahomet! Mahomet! Mahomet!’ cried she, with all her might; and in an instant a negro, still larger than the last, stood before her.

‘What do you want?’ asked he.

‘The head, your master, bids you open the trunk, and to give me the red purse which you will find in it.’

‘Very well, good mother, I will do so,’ answered the negro, and, the moment after he had vanished, he reappeared with the purse in his hand.

This time the money seemed so endless that the old woman built herself a new house, and filled it with the most beautiful things that were to be found in the shops. Her daughters were always wrapped in veils that looked as if they were woven out of sunbeams, and their dresses shone with precious stones. The neighbours wondered where all this sudden wealth had sprung from, but nobody knew about the head.

‘Good mother,’ said the head, one day, ‘this morning you are to go to the city and ask the sultan to give me his daughter for my bride.’

‘Do what?’ asked the old woman in amazement. ‘How can I tell the sultan that a head without a body wishes to become his son-in-law? They will think that I am mad, and I shall be hooted from the palace and stoned by the children.’

‘Do as I bid you,’ replied the head; ‘it is my will.’

The old woman was afraid to say anything more, and, putting on her richest clothes, started for the palace. The sultan granted her an audience at once, and, in a trembling voice, she made her request.

‘Are you mad, old woman?’ said the sultan, staring at her.

‘The wooer is powerful, O Sultan, and nothing is impossible to him.’

‘Is that true?’

‘It is, O Sultan; I swear it,’ answered she.

‘Then let him show his power by doing three things, and I will give him my daughter.’

‘Command, O gracious prince,’ said she.

‘Do you see that hill in front of the palace?’ asked the sultan.

‘I see it,’ answered she.

‘Well, in forty days the man who has sent you must make that hill vanish, and plant a beautiful garden in its place. That is the first thing. Now go, and tell him what I say.’

So the old woman returned and told the head the sultan’s first condition.

‘It is well,’ he replied; and said no more about it.

For thirty-nine days the head remained in its favourite corner. The old woman thought that the task set before was beyond his powers, and that no more would be heard about the sultan’s daughter. But on the thirty-ninth evening after her visit to the palace, the head suddenly spoke.

‘Good mother,’ he said, ‘you must go to-night to the bridge, and when you are there cry “Ali! Ali! Ali!” as loud as you can. A negro will appear before you, and you will tell him that he is to level the hill, and to make, in its place, the most beautiful garden that ever was seen.’

‘I will go at once,’ answered she.

It did not take her long to reach the bridge which led to the city, and she took up her position on the spot where she had first seen the head, and called loudly ‘Ali! Ali! Ali.’ In an instant a negro appeared before her, of such a huge size that the old woman was half frightened; but his voice was mild and gentle as he said: ‘What is it that you want?’

‘Your master bids you level the hill that stands in front of the sultan’s palace and in its place to make the most beautiful garden in the world.’

‘Tell my master he shall be obeyed,’ replied Ali; ‘it shall be done this moment.’ And the old woman went home and gave Ali’s message to the head.

Meanwhile the sultan was in his palace waiting till the fortieth day should dawn, and wondering that not one spadeful of earth should have been dug out of the hill.

‘If that old woman has been playing me a trick,’ thought he, ‘I will hang her! And I will put up a gallows to-morrow on the hill itself.’

But when to-morrow came there was no hill, and when the sultan opened his eyes he could not imagine why the room was so much lighter than usual, and what was the reason of the sweet smell of flowers that filled the air.

‘Can there be a fire?’ he said to himself; ‘the sun never came in at this window before. I must get up and see.’ So he rose and looked out, and underneath him flowers from every part of the world were blooming, and creepers of every colour hung in chains from tree to tree.

Then he remembered. ‘Certainly that old woman’s son is a clever magician!’ cried he; ‘I never met anyone as clever as that. What shall I give him to do next? Let me think. Ah! I know.’ And he sent for the old woman, who by the orders of the head, was waiting below.

‘Your son has carried out my wishes very nicely,’ he said. ‘The garden is larger and better than that of any other king. But when I walk across it I shall need some place to rest on the other side. In forty days he must build me a palace, in which every room shall be filled with different furniture from a different country, and each more magnificent than any room that ever was seen.’ And having said this he turned round and went away.

‘Oh! he will never be able to do that,’ thought she; ‘it is much more difficult than the hill.’ And she walked home slowly, with her head bent.

‘Well, what am I to do next?’ asked the head cheerfully. And the old woman told her story.

‘Dear me! is that all? why it is child’s play,’ answered the head; and troubled no more about the palace for thirty-nine days. Then he told the old woman to go to the bridge and call for Hassan.

‘What do you want, old woman?’ asked Hassan, when he appeared, for he was not as polite as the others had been.

‘Your master commands you to build the most magnificent palace that ever was seen,’ replied she; ‘and you are to place it on the borders of the new garden.’

‘He shall be obeyed,’ answered Hassan. And when the sultan woke he saw, in the distance, a palace built of soft blue marble, resting on slender pillars of pure gold.

‘That old woman’s son is certainly all-powerful,’ cried he; ‘what shall I bid him do now?’ And after thinking some time he sent for the old woman, who was expecting the summons.

‘The garden is wonderful, and the palace the finest in the world,’ said he, ‘so fine, that my servants would cut but a sorry figure in it. Let your son fill it with forty slaves whose beauty shall be unequalled, all exactly like each other, and of the same height.’

This time the king thought he had invented something totally impossible, and was quite pleased with himself for his cleverness.

Thirty-nine days passed, and at midnight on the night of the last the old woman was standing on the bridge.

‘Bekir! Bekir! Bekir!’ cried she. And a negro appeared, and inquired what she wanted.

‘The head, your master, bids you find forty slaves of unequalled beauty, and of the same height, and place them in the sultan’s palace on the other side of the garden.’

And when, on the morning of the fortieth day, the sultan went to the blue palace, and was received by the forty slaves, he nearly lost his wits from surprise.

‘I will assuredly give my daughter to the old woman’s son,’ thought he. ‘If I were to search all the world through I could never find a more powerful son-in-law.’

And when the old woman entered his presence he informed her that he was ready to fulfil his promise, and she was to bid her son appear at the palace without delay.

This command did not at all please the old woman, though, of course, she made no objections to the sultan.

‘All has gone well so far,’ she grumbled, when she told her story to the head,’ but what do you suppose the sultan will say, when he sees his daughter’s husband?’

‘Never mind what he says! Put me on a silver dish and carry me to the palace.’

So it was done, though the old woman’s heart beat as she laid down the dish with the head upon it.

At the sight before him the king flew into a violent rage.

‘I will never marry my daughter to such a monster,’ he cried. But the princess placed her head gently on his arm.

‘You have given your word, my father, and you cannot break it,’ said she.

‘But, my child, it is impossible for you to marry such a being,’ exclaimed the sultan.

‘Yes, I will marry him. He had a beautiful head, and I love him already.’

So the marriage was celebrated, and great feasts were held in the palace, though the people wept tears to think of the sad fate of their beloved princess. But when the merry-making was done, and the young couple were alone, the head suddenly disappeared, or, rather, a body was added to it, and one of the handsomest young men that ever was seen stood before the princess.

‘A wicked fairy enchanted me at my birth,’ he said, ‘and for the rest of the world I must always be a head only. But for you, and you only, I am a man like other men.’

‘And that is all I care about,’ said the princess.

[Traditions populaires de toutes les nations (Asie Mineure)].