THE SHEEP-PLAY
The dinner was over, the plates washed and put away, and grandmother
was busy with her spinning. The little boy was amusing himself with
some bits of wool that had fallen to the floor, for everything is
a plaything to a Russian child. The bits of wool were sheep, and a
wooden stool was a sheepfold, and a bit of fuel that had fallen when
grandmother covered up the fire was the sheep-dog. It was a very
nice play.
The room was very quiet, for, though the little boy talked all the
time to his sheep and his dog, he had been taught to talk softly in
his plays, as all children must do when a whole family lives in one
room. He talked very softly indeed when he saw that grandmother had
leaned her head against the straight back of her rush-bottomed chair
and was taking a little nap. Presently the distaff fell from her lap
to the floor and awakened her.
"Why, I must have been asleep!" she said, and went on with her
spinning.
At last the sheep, which had been wandering away upon the hills that
rose between the hollows in the clay floor, had all been discovered
by the sheep-dog and herded, one by one, in the fold. The little
boy was tired of playing, and he sat on the stool to listen to his
grandmother's singing. Grandmother was always singing when she was
not telling stories to the little boy.
"Why can't you tell stories while you spin, as well as when you
knit?" asked the little boy.
"Oh, that isn't the way!" said the grandmother. "When it is dark and
I take my knitting I can tell a story, but not now. You'd better go
home till it begins to grow dark; then come, and we'll see what story
little grandmother can tell."
The winter day was very short, and it was not long before the little
boy came back. Grandmother was still spinning, but she laid aside
her distaff and spindle, took her knitting down from the shelf,
and began the story of
THE BEG AND THE FOX
Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a Beg whose whole
property consisted of a horse, a greyhound, and a musket. He had no
other occupation than hunting, and by this he gained his living.
One fine day he mounted his horse, threw his musket over his
shoulder, called to his greyhound, and set off to hunt upon the high
mountains. After riding a long distance he reached an elevated plain,
where he tied his horse to a tree and went forward into the thick
woods, with his gun upon his shoulder and his dog by his side. While
he was hunting on the mountain a Fox drew near to the horse and lay
down in the grass beside him.
The Beg hunted about in the woods for a long time, but he only made
out to kill a single deer. When he went back to his horse and saw the
Fox lying there beside it he was astonished, and raised his musket to
make an end of the Master. But when the Fox saw what the Beg was about
to do he sprang up quickly and implored him, for the love of Heaven,
to spare his life, promising to be a faithful guard and protector to
his horse.
The Beg took pity on the Fox and gave him his life. Then mounting his
horse, he laid the deer before him, set the Fox behind him, and went
home. On arriving at home he put the deer upon the spit to roast for
supper, and threw the offal to the Fox, that he might have a good
meal too.
So the night passed. In the first dawn of morning the Beg again set
out, taking the Fox along. He went again to the same high plain,
tied his horse to the same tree, and went forward to hunt, leaving
the Fox to guard the horse. After his departure the Fox remained
alone for a time. But he soon had company, for a Bear came along,
intending to devour the horse. But the Fox stopped him and begged
him to spare the horse, advising him to stay till the Beg returned,
for he was a good master and would feed them both at his house. The
Bear joyfully accepted this proposal, and lay down beside the Fox to
await the worthy Beg's return.
When the Beg came back from hunting he was not a little surprised
to see the Bear lying peacefully with the Fox beside the horse,
and he quickly raised his musket to him. But the Fox sprang forward
and began to beseech the Beg to spare the Bear and take him home with
him. The Bear, he said, would keep him company in guarding the horse,
and would rush to the Beg's aid in every need and danger. At these
entreaties the Beg laid down his gun, threw across his horse the
two deer which he had killed, and returned home in high good-humor,
accompanied by the Fox and the Bear.
The following day the Beg went hunting again and left his horse on
the same high plain. This day a Wolf joined the company and was taken
home with the others. On the fourth day a Mouse and a Mole presented
themselves and were accepted in the family, and at last came the bird
Kumrikusha, [1] which was so large that it could easily have carried
away the horse and his rider through the air. All these animals were
fed by the Beg at his own house.
One day the Fox said to the Bear, "Up, Master Petz! Bring me here
a log! I will sit upon it and give orders, and you must all execute
them."
Upon this the Bear betook himself to the forest and dragged home the
trunk of a mighty tree. Then Reinecke climbed upon it and uttered
the following discourse:
"All right! Well, then! See here, now, worthy companions and
friends! We must marry our Beg."
"Good!" replied the others; "but how shall we begin? For we don't
know where to find a maiden for him."
"The Emperor has a daughter," replied Reinecke; "let us marry our Beg
to her. Kumrikusha, do you begin. Set off at once for the imperial
castle, lie in wait for the young lady when she takes her walk,
seize her and bring her here."
Kumrikusha, nothing loath, set out at once, alighted near the
imperial castle, and watched for the Emperor's little daughter. Just
at nightfall she came out of the castle to walk, accompanied by her
waiting-woman. In a trice Kumrikusha was upon the spot, seized the
Princess, set her upon his back, and flew homeward.
When the Emperor heard of the abduction of his daughter he was beside
himself with grief, and offered to reward with untold wealth the
person who should bring her home again. But all in vain, for no one
dared undertake the adventure, until at last, one day, a gypsy-wife
presented herself before the Emperor and said to him:
"Lord Emperor, what shall I get if I bring you back your daughter?"
The Emperor could hardly believe his own ears, and he cried out in
delight, "Ask what you will, it shall be granted; only bring her
back safe!"
The gypsy-wife went home, took some beans in her hand, and began to
practise enchantment with them, according to ancient custom. She soon
divined from the beans that the Princess was distant ten days' journey,
and she at once prepared to follow her. She took a piece of carpet and
her riding-whip, seated herself upon the carpet, cracked the whip,
and up rose the carpet into the air. It carried her straight to the
place where the Beg was living with his wife, the Emperor's daughter.
Arrived within a short distance of the Beg's stronghold, the gypsy-wife
let herself down to the ground, left her carpet and riding-whip lying
there, and found a hiding-place where she could see the Princess
when she came out before the door for her evening walk. She had not
long to wait. The Princess soon came out for a little walk, and in
a trice the gypsy-wife was at her side, entering into conversation
with her. As they talked she gradually led her farther and farther
away from the Beg's castle, and at last turned off into a by-path,
where the carpet lay.
No sooner did the Princess see the carpet spread upon the grass than
she exclaimed, "Why, here is a carpet! Let us sit down upon it."
Nothing could have pleased the gypsy better. They sat down
together. The gypsy took up her riding-whip, struck the carpet, and
away they both went through the air, straight to the imperial castle.
The Emperor's joy was boundless when he saw his daughter, and he
richly rewarded the gypsy. But he shut the Princess up in a room and
strictly forbade her to leave it, appointing two maids to watch and
wait upon her.
When Reinecke heard what had happened to his Beg's wife, he summoned
his companions to a council and addressed them in the following words:
"Friends and comrades! We have indeed married our Beg to the Emperor's
daughter, but, as you see, she has been forcibly taken away from us,
and here is our Beg a lonely bachelor again. Nothing remains for
us to do but to bring the Princess back to our Beg. But this is an
undertaking beset with difficulties. The Emperor keeps his daughter
under strict watch, and never permits her to leave her chamber. You
see, therefore, that only stratagem can avail us here."
"What, then, shall we do?" asked Petz.
"There is nothing better to do than for me to transform myself
into a beautiful striped kitten and play about under the Princess's
window. When she sees me she will send her maids down to catch me. But
I shall not allow myself to be caught until the Princess herself comes
down. At the very moment she appears, do you, Kumrikusha, arrive upon
the scene, seize her, and carry her to our Beg. Meanwhile I shall
look sharp to outrun the pursuers and get off with a whole skin."
Thus spoke the Master, and all the others agreed that the plan
was good.
The bird Kumrikusha immediately took the Fox under his wing, flew
with him into the kingdom where the Emperor's daughter languished,
and set him down near the imperial castle. The Master no sooner
felt solid ground under his feet than he transformed himself into a
beautiful striped kitten, crept under the balcony where the Princess
was sitting, and began to spring about in the most graceful and
fantastic manner. Thus he succeeded in attracting her attention,
and, as he had anticipated, the Princess at once sent her maids down
to bring the kitten to her. But Reinecke, though in a cat's form,
was still a fox at heart, and was not to be caught at any price.
When the Emperor's daughter saw this she herself went down to catch
Pussy. But hardly had she stepped out of the door when the bird
Kumrikusha swooped down, seized her, and bore her home to the Beg,
while Reinecke ran off in another direction and thus saved his skin.
As soon as the Emperor heard of this mishap he ordered out his hounds
to hunt the cat that had decoyed away his daughter. But the cat,
when he saw himself chased, took refuge in the cleft of a rock into
which the hounds could not follow him. So they returned home from a
bootless chase.
Then the cat crept out, transformed himself back into a fox, and
followed Kumrikusha, who by this time had brought the Princess home
to the Beg.
The Emperor, convinced that he should not recover his daughter by
peaceful means, levied an immense army and declared war against the
beasts. When Reinecke heard of this he summoned the other animals that
lived with the Beg, and which, as I have told you, were a Bear, a Wolf,
a Mouse, a Mole, and the bird Kumrikusha, and spoke to them thus:
"Listen! The Emperor, with his whole army, is marching against us
to exterminate us. Very well; let us also summon our forces, that we
may make a brave stand against him. Master Petz, how many bears can
you muster?"
"More than three hundred."
"And you, Isegrim?"
"I can bring five hundred wolves."
"And you, Mouse--speak up; how great is your command?"
"I can bring three thousand mice."
"And how many moles can you bring, Mole?"
"Eight thousand."
"And you, Kumrikusha, will you join us?"
"Yes, with two or three hundred birds like myself."
"Good! Now go and levy your forces as has been agreed. When they are
assembled, come here, that I may tell you what to do next."
As soon as Reinecke had given these orders the beasts all betook
themselves to the forest in order to summon their troops. Soon heaven
and earth resounded with the din of approaching multitudes. Here came
the army of the Bears, there came the Wolves, and close behind were
the Mice and the Moles. Woods and fields were filled with them, and
when they were all drawn up in martial array Reinecke held a review
and gave the following orders:
"You, Bears and Wolves, must lead the van, and when the Emperor has
encamped for the night do you fall upon the camp and kill all the
horses. On the second night, you, Mice, must gnaw all the saddles,
for they will have procured fresh horses in the meantime. On the
third night, you, Moles, must dig around the camp a subterranean
passage fifteen ells broad and twenty deep. And as soon as the army
is stirring in the morning, you, Kumrikushas, must rain down great
pieces of rock upon them."
The review ended, the several detachments of the army of the beasts
set forth. The first night, when the imperial host had encamped, the
Bears and the Wolves fell upon the imperial horses and tore them all
to pieces. Early in the morning the soldiers announced to the Emperor
that wild beasts had killed all the horses during the night. The
Emperor made diligent search into the cause of the sudden calamity,
and meanwhile he commanded that fresh horses should be procured
without delay. This was done and the army moved on.
During the second night's encampment the Mice came and gnawed all the
trappings of the horses. In the morning when the soldiers awoke and
saw that all the saddles were nibbled they told the Emperor, who at
once commanded that new ones should be made. This done, again the
army marched on.
The third night the Fox sent the Moles to surround the camp with a
subterranean passage fifteen ells broad and twenty deep. That the work
might be the sooner accomplished, he directed the Bears to carry away
the loosened earth. The Moles began the work about midnight, leaving
only one hole open at one side where the earth was to be carried
out. While the Moles were digging under the ground and throwing up
the clods, the Bears were busily carrying the earth to some distance
from the camp.
When the Emperor's troops awoke in the morning they mounted their
horses to ride away; but hardly had they gone a few steps when they
began to fall through the treacherous earth. At the same time the
Kumrikushas let fall a rain of rocks and stones upon them.
When the Emperor saw his great army thus miserably perishing he cried
aloud, "Let us beat a retreat! It is the judgment of God upon us for
undertaking to make war upon the beasts. Let them keep my kidnapped
daughter, in Heaven's name!"
Immediately the army wheeled about to retreat, but even on that side
the earth gave way beneath their feet.
"God is punishing us already," cried the Emperor in despair, "by
causing the earth to swallow us up! Oh, why, then, does He slay us
with stones and rocks from the sky?"
The confusion was universal; every one was pushing and crowding his
neighbor; and so the Emperor's whole army melted away.
After a time the Fox removed his residence to Stamboul and began to
rule there, and the Beg gave up hunting and went also to Stamboul
to be near his Fox. There, with his wife, whom no one again dared to
kidnap, he lived in joy and peace until his blessed end.
The little boy had left his stool and was standing near his
grandmother, his eyes shining in the darkness. When she stopped
speaking he drew a long breath.
"That was a good Fox, grandmother," he said. "I should like to know
that Fox."