No couple were ever so happy; but before their honeymoon was over they
were forced to part, for the King had to go on a warlike expedition to
a far country, and leave his young wife alone at home. Bitter were the
tears she shed, while her husband sought in vain to soothe her with
words of comfort and counsel, warning her, above all things, never to
leave the castle, to hold no intercourse with strangers, to beware of
evil counsellors, and especially to be on her guard against strange
women. And the Queen promised faithfully to obey her royal lord and
master in these four matters.
So when the King set out on his expedition she shut herself up with
her ladies in her own apartments, and spent her time in spinning and
weaving, and in thinking of her royal husband. Often she was very sad
and lonely, and it happened that one day while she was seated at the
window, letting salt tears drop on her work, an old woman, a kind,
homely-looking old body, stepped up to the window, and, leaning upon
her crutch, addressed the Queen in friendly, flattering tones, saying:
‘Why are you sad and cast down, fair Queen? You should not mope all
day in your rooms, but should come out into the green garden, and hear
the birds sing with joy among the trees, and see the butterflies
fluttering above the flowers, and hear the bees and insects hum, and
watch the sunbeams chase the dew-drops through the rose-leaves and in
the lily-cups. All the brightness outside would help to drive away
your cares, O Queen.’
[Illustration: The Witch persuades the Queen to bathe]
For long the Queen resisted her coaxing words, remembering the promise
she had given the King, her husband; but at last she thought to
herself: After all, what harm would it do if I were to go into the
garden for a short time and enjoy myself among the trees and flowers,
and the singing birds and fluttering butterflies and humming insects,
and look at the dew-drops hiding from the sunbeams in the hearts of
the roses and lilies, and wander about in the sunshine, instead of
remaining all day in this room? For she had no idea that the
kind-looking old woman leaning on her crutch was in reality a wicked
witch, who envied the Queen her good fortune, and was determined to
ruin her. And so, in all ignorance, the Queen followed her out into
the garden and listened to her smooth, flattering words. Now, in the
middle of the garden there was a pond of water, clear as crystal, and
the old woman said to the Queen:
‘The day is so warm, and the sun’s rays so scorching, that the water
in the pond looks very cool and inviting. Would you not like to bathe
in it, fair Queen?’
‘No, I think not,’ answered the Queen; but the next moment she
regretted her words, and thought to herself: Why shouldn’t I bathe in
that cool, fresh water? No harm could come of it. And, so saying, she
slipped off her robes and stepped into the water. But scarcely had her
tender feet touched the cool ripples when she felt a great shove on
her shoulders, and the wicked witch had pushed her into the deep
water, exclaiming:
‘Swim henceforth, White Duck!’
And the witch herself assumed the form of the Queen, and decked
herself out in the royal robes, and sat among the Court ladies,
awaiting the King’s return. And suddenly the tramp of horses’ hoofs
was heard, and the barking of dogs, and the witch hastened forward to
meet the royal carriages, and, throwing her arms round the King’s
neck, kissed him. And in his great joy the King did not know that the
woman he held in his arms was not his own dear wife, but a wicked
witch.
In the meantime, outside the palace walls, the poor White Duck swam up
and down the pond; and near it laid three eggs, out of which there
came one morning two little fluffy ducklings and a little ugly drake.
And the White Duck brought the little creatures up, and they paddled
after her in the pond, and caught gold-fish, and hopped upon the bank
and waddled about, ruffling their feathers and saying ‘Quack, quack’
as they strutted about on the green banks of the pond. But their
mother used to warn them not to stray too far, telling them that a
wicked witch lived in the castle beyond the garden, adding, ‘She has
ruined me, and she will do her best to ruin you.’ But the young ones
did not listen to their mother, and, playing about the garden one day,
they strayed close up to the castle windows. The witch at once
recognised them by their smell, and ground her teeth with anger; but
she hid her feelings, and, pretending to be very kind, she called them
to her and joked with them, and led them into a beautiful room, where
she gave them food to eat, and showed them a soft cushion on which
they might sleep. Then she left them and went down into the palace
kitchens, where she told the servants to sharpen the knives, and to
make a great fire ready, and hang a large kettleful of water over it.
In the meantime the two little ducklings had fallen asleep, and the
little drake lay between them, covered up by their wings, to be kept
warm under their feathers. But the little drake could not go to sleep,
and as he lay there wide awake in the night he heard the witch come to
the door and say:
‘Little ones, are you asleep?’
And the little drake answered for the other two:
‘We cannot sleep, we wake and weep,
Sharp is the knife, to take our life;
The fire is hot, now boils the pot,
And so we wake, and lie and quake.’
‘They are not asleep yet,’ muttered the witch to herself; and she
walked up and down in the passage, and then came back to the door, and
said:
‘Little ones, are you asleep?’
And again the little drake answered for his sisters:
‘We cannot sleep, we wake and weep,
Sharp is the knife, to take our life;
The fire is hot, now boils the pot,
And so we wake, and lie and quake.’
‘Just the same answer,’ muttered the witch; ‘I think I’ll go in and
see.’ So she opened the door gently, and seeing the two little
ducklings sound asleep, she there and then killed them.
The next morning the White Duck wandered round the pond in a
distracted manner, looking for her little ones; she called and she
searched, but could find no trace of them. And in her heart she had a
foreboding that evil had befallen them, and she fluttered up out of
the water and flew to the palace. And there, laid out on the marble
floor of the court, dead and stone cold, were her three children. The
White Duck threw herself upon them, and, covering up their little
bodies with her wings, she cried:
‘Quack, quack—my little loves!
Quack, quack—my turtle-doves!
I brought you up with grief and pain,
And now before my eyes you’re slain.
I gave you always of the best;
I kept you warm in my soft nest.
I loved and watched you day and night—
You were my joy, my one delight.’
[Illustration: The King catches the White Duck]
The King heard the sad complaint of the White Duck, and called to the
witch: ‘Wife, what a wonder is this? Listen to that White Duck.’
But the witch answered, ‘My dear husband, what do you mean? There is
nothing wonderful in a duck’s quacking. Here, servants! Chase that
duck out of the courtyard.’ But though the servants chased and
chevied, they could not get rid of the duck; for she circled round and
round, and always came back to the spot where her children lay,
crying:
‘Quack, quack—my little loves!
Quack, quack—my turtle-doves!
The wicked witch your lives did take—
The wicked witch, the cunning snake.
First she stole my King away,
Then my children did she slay.
Changed me, from a happy wife,
To a duck for all my life.
Would I were the Queen again;
Would that you had ne’er been slain.’
And as the King heard her words he began to suspect that he had been
deceived, and he called out to the servants, ‘Catch that duck, and
bring it here.’ But, though they ran to and fro, the duck always fled
past them, and would not let herself be caught. So the King himself
stepped down amongst them, and instantly the duck fluttered down into
his hands. And as he stroked her wings she was changed into a
beautiful woman, and he recognised his dear wife. And she told him
that a bottle would be found in her nest in the garden, containing
some drops from the spring of healing. And it was brought to her; and
the ducklings and little drake were sprinkled with the water, and from
the little dead bodies three lovely children arose. And the King and
Queen were overjoyed when they saw their children, and they all lived
happily together in the beautiful palace. But the wicked witch was
taken by the King’s command, and she came to no good end.
_THE WITCH AND HER SERVANTS_[22]
A long time ago there lived a King who had three sons; the eldest was
called Szabo, the second Warza, and the youngest Iwanich.
One beautiful spring morning the King was walking through his gardens
with these three sons, gazing with admiration at the various
fruit-trees, some of which were a mass of blossom, whilst others were
bowed to the ground laden with rich fruit. During their wanderings
they came unperceived on a piece of waste land where three splendid
trees grew. The King looked on them for a moment, and then, shaking
his head sadly, he passed on in silence.
The sons, who could not understand why he did this, asked him the
reason of his dejection, and the King told them as follows:
‘These three trees, which I cannot see without sorrow, were planted by
me on this spot when I was a youth of twenty. A celebrated magician,
who had given the seed to my father, promised him that they would grow
into the three finest trees the world had ever seen. My father did not
live to see his words come true; but on his death-bed he bade me
transplant them here, and to look after them with the greatest care,
which I accordingly did. At last, after the lapse of five long years,
I noticed some blossoms on the branches, and a few days later the most
exquisite fruit my eyes had ever seen.
‘I gave my head-gardener the strictest orders to watch the trees
carefully, for the magician had warned my father that if one unripe
fruit were plucked from the tree, all the rest would become rotten at
once. When it was quite ripe the fruit would become a golden yellow.
‘Every day I gazed on the lovely fruit, which became gradually more
and more tempting-looking, and it was all I could do not to break the
magician’s commands.
[Footnote 22: From the Russian. Kletke.]
‘One night I dreamt that the fruit was perfectly ripe; I ate some of
it, and it was more delicious than anything I had ever tasted in real
life. As soon as I awoke I sent for the gardener and asked him if the
fruit on the three trees had not ripened in the night to perfection.
‘But instead of replying, the gardener threw himself at my feet and
swore that he was innocent. He said that he had watched by the trees
all night, but in spite of it, and as if by magic, the beautiful trees
had been robbed of all their fruit.
‘Grieved as I was over the theft, I did not punish the gardener, of
whose fidelity I was well assured, but I determined to pluck off all
the fruit in the following year before it was ripe, as I had not much
belief in the magician’s warning.
‘I carried out my intention, and had all the fruit picked off the
tree, but when I tasted one of the apples it was bitter and
unpleasant, and the next morning the rest of the fruit had all rotted
away.
‘After this I had the beautiful fruit of these trees carefully guarded
by my most faithful servants; but every year, on this very night, the
fruit was plucked and stolen by an invisible hand, and next morning
not a single apple remained on the trees. For some time past I have
given up even having the trees watched.’
When the King had finished his story, Szabo, his eldest son, said to
him: ‘Forgive me, father, if I say I think you are mistaken. I am sure
there are many men in your kingdom who could protect these trees from
the cunning arts of a thieving magician; I myself, who as your eldest
son claim the first right to do so, will mount guard over the fruit
this very night.’
The King consented, and as soon as evening drew on Szabo climbed up on
to one of the trees, determined to protect the fruit even if it cost
him his life. So he kept watch half the night; but a little after
midnight he was overcome by an irresistible drowsiness, and fell fast
asleep. He did not awake till it was bright daylight, and all the
fruit on the trees had vanished.
The following year Warza, the second brother, tried his luck, but with
the same result. Then it came to the turn of the third and youngest
son.
Iwanich was not the least discouraged by the failure of his elder
brothers, though they were both much older and stronger than he was,
and when night came climbed up the tree as they had done. The moon had
risen, and with her soft light lit up the whole neighbourhood, so that
the observant Prince could distinguish the smallest object distinctly.
[Illustration: Iwanich Holds Fast the Swan.]
At midnight a gentle west wind shook the tree, and at the same moment
a snow-white swan-like bird sank down gently on his breast. The Prince
hastily seized the bird’s wings in his hands, when, lo! to his
astonishment he found he was holding in his arms not a bird but the
most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
‘You need not fear Militza,’ said the beautiful girl, looking at the
Prince with friendly eyes. ‘An evil magician has not robbed you of
your fruit, but he stole the seed from my mother, and thereby caused
her death. When she was dying she bade me take the fruit, which you
have no right to possess, from the trees every year as soon as it was
ripe. This I would have done to-night too, if you had not seized me
with such force, and so broken the spell I was under.’
[Illustration: Militza Leaves Iwanich in the Tree]
Iwanich, who had been prepared to meet a terrible magician and not a
lovely girl, fell desperately in love with her. They spent the rest of
the night in pleasant conversation, and when Militza wished to go away
he begged her not to leave him.
‘I would gladly stay with you longer,’ said Militza, ‘but a wicked
witch once cut off a lock of my hair when I was asleep, which has put
me in her power, and if morning were still to find me here she would
do me some harm, and you, too, perhaps.’
Having said these words, she drew a sparkling diamond ring from her
finger, which she handed to the Prince, saying: ‘Keep this ring in
memory of Militza, and think of her sometimes if you never see her
again. But if your love is really true, come and find me in my own
kingdom. I may not show you the way there, but this ring will guide
you.
‘If you have love and courage enough to undertake this journey,
whenever you come to a cross-road always look at this diamond before
you settle which way you are going to take. If it sparkles as brightly
as ever go straight on, but if its lustre is dimmed choose another
path.’
Then Militza bent over the Prince and kissed him on his forehead, and
before he had time to say a word she vanished through the branches of
the tree in a little white cloud.
Morning broke, and the Prince, still full of the wonderful apparition,
left his perch and returned to the palace like one in a dream, without
even knowing if the fruit had been taken or not; for his whole mind
was absorbed by thoughts of Militza and how he was to find her.
As soon as the head-gardener saw the Prince going towards the palace
he ran to the trees, and when he saw them laden with ripe fruit he
hastened to tell the King the joyful news. The King was beside himself
for joy, and hurried at once to the garden and made the gardener pick
him some of the fruit. He tasted it, and found the apple quite as
luscious as it had been in his dream. He went at once to his son
Iwanich, and after embracing him tenderly and heaping praises on him,
he asked him how he had succeeded in protecting the costly fruit from
the power of the magician.
This question placed Iwanich in a dilemma. But as he did not want the
real story to be known, he said that about midnight a huge wasp had
flown through the branches, and buzzed incessantly round him. He had
warded it off with his sword, and at dawn, when he was becoming quite
worn out, the wasp had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
The King, who never doubted the truth of this tale, bade his son go to
rest at once and recover from the fatigues of the night; but he
himself went and ordered many feasts to be held in honour of the
preservation of the wonderful fruit.
The whole capital was in a stir, and everyone shared in the King’s
joy; the Prince alone took no part in the festivities.
While the King was at a banquet, Iwanich took some purses of gold, and
mounting the quickest horse in the royal stable, he sped off like the
wind without a single soul being any the wiser.
It was only on the next day that they missed him; the King was very
distressed at his disappearance, and sent search-parties all over the
kingdom to look for him, but in vain; and after six months they gave
him up as dead, and in another six months they had forgotten all about
him. But in the meantime the Prince, with the help of his ring, had
had a most successful journey, and no evil had befallen him.
At the end of three months he came to the entrance of a huge forest,
which looked as if it had never been trodden by human foot before, and
which seemed to stretch out indefinitely. The Prince was about to
enter the wood by a little path he had discovered, when he heard a
voice shouting to him: ‘Hold, youth! Whither are you going?’
Iwanich turned round, and saw a tall, gaunt-looking man, clad in
miserable rags, leaning on a crooked staff and seated at the foot of
an oak tree, which was so much the same colour as himself that it was
little wonder the Prince had ridden past the tree without noticing
him.
‘Where else should I be going,’ he said, ‘than through the wood?’
‘Through the wood?’ said the old man in amazement. ‘It’s easily seen
that you have heard nothing of this forest, that you rush so blindly
to meet your doom. Well, listen to me before you ride any further; let
me tell you that this wood hides in its depths a countless number of
the fiercest tigers, hyenas, wolves, bears, and snakes, and all sorts
of other monsters. If I were to cut you and your horse up into tiny
morsels and throw them to the beasts, there wouldn’t be one bit for
each hundred of them. Take my advice, therefore, and if you wish to
save your life follow some other path.’
The Prince was rather taken aback by the old man’s words, and
considered for a minute what he should do; then looking at his ring,
and perceiving that it sparkled as brightly as ever, he called out:
‘If this wood held even more terrible things than it does, I cannot
help myself, for I must go through it.’
Here he spurred his horse and rode on; but the old beggar screamed so
loudly after him that the Prince turned round and rode back to the oak
tree.
‘I am really sorry for you,’ said the beggar, ‘but if you are quite
determined to brave the dangers of the forest, let me at least give
you a piece of advice which will help you against these monsters.
‘Take this bagful of bread-crumbs and this live hare. I will make you
a present of them both, as I am anxious to save your life; but you
must leave your horse behind you, for it would stumble over the fallen
trees or get entangled in the briers and thorns. When you have gone
about a hundred yards into the wood the wild beasts will surround you.
Then you must instantly seize your bag, and scatter the bread-crumbs
among them. They will rush to eat them up greedily, and when you have
scattered the last crumb you must lose no time in throwing the hare to
them; as soon as the hare feels itself on the ground it will run away
as quickly as possible, and the wild beasts will turn to pursue it. In
this way you will be able to get through the wood unhurt.’
Iwanich thanked the old man for his counsel, dismounted from his
horse, and, taking the bag and the hare in his arms, he entered the
forest. He had hardly lost sight of his gaunt grey friend when he
heard growls and snarls in the thicket close to him, and before he had
time to think he found himself surrounded by the most dreadful-looking
creatures. On one side he saw the glittering eye of a cruel tiger, on
the other the gleaming teeth of a great she-wolf; here a huge bear
growled fiercely, and there a horrible snake coiled itself in the
grass at his feet.
But Iwanich did not forget the old man’s advice, and quickly put his
hand into the bag and took out as many bread-crumbs as he could hold
in his hand at a time. He threw them to the beasts, but soon the bag
grew lighter and lighter, and the Prince began to feel a little
frightened. And now the last crumb was gone, and the hungry beasts
thronged round him, greedy for fresh prey. Then he seized the hare and
threw it to them.
No sooner did the little creature feel itself on the ground than it
lay back its ears and flew through the wood like an arrow from a bow,
closely pursued by the wild beasts, and the Prince was left alone. He
looked at his ring, and when he saw that it sparkled as brightly as
ever he went straight on through the forest.
He hadn’t gone very far when he saw a most extraordinary looking man
coming towards him. He was not more than three feet high, his legs
were quite crooked, and all his body was covered with prickles like a
hedgehog. Two lions walked with him, fastened to his side by the two
ends of his long beard.
He stopped the Prince and asked him in a harsh voice: ‘Are you the man
who has just fed my body-guard?’
Iwanich was so startled that he could hardly reply, but the little man
continued: ‘I am most grateful to you for your kindness; what can I
give you as a reward?’
‘All I ask,’ replied Iwanich, ‘is, that I should be allowed to go
through this wood in safety.’
‘Most certainly,’ answered the little man; ‘and for greater security I
will give you one of my lions as a protector. But when you leave this
wood and come near a palace which does not belong to my domain, let
the lion go, in order that he may not fall into the hands of an enemy
and be killed.’
[Illustration: The Prickly Man with His Attendants]
With these words he loosened the lion from his beard and bade the
beast guard the youth carefully.
With this new protector Iwanich wandered on through the forest, and
though he came upon a great many more wolves, hyenas, leopards, and
other wild beasts, they always kept at a respectful distance when they
saw what sort of an escort the Prince had with him.
[Illustration: Militza & her Maidens in the Garden]
Iwanich hurried through the wood as quickly as his legs would carry
him, but, nevertheless, hour after hour went by and not a trace of a
green field or a human habitation met his eyes. At length, towards
evening, the mass of trees grew more transparent, and through the
interlaced branches a wide plain was visible.
At the exit of the wood the lion stood still, and the Prince took
leave of him, having first thanked him warmly for his kind protection.
It had become quite dark, and Iwanich was forced to wait for daylight
before continuing his journey.
He made himself a bed of grass and leaves, lit a fire of dry branches,
and slept soundly till the next morning.
Then he got up and walked towards a beautiful white palace which he
saw gleaming in the distance. In about an hour he reached the
building, and opening the door he walked in.
After wandering through many marble halls, he came to a huge staircase
made of porphyry, leading down to a lovely garden.
The Prince burst into a shout of joy when he suddenly perceived
Militza in the centre of a group of girls who were weaving wreaths of
flowers with which to deck their mistress.
As soon as Militza saw the Prince she ran up to him and embraced him
tenderly; and after he had told her all his adventures, they went into
the palace, where a sumptuous meal awaited them. Then the Princess
called her court together, and introduced Iwanich to them as her
future husband.
Preparations were at once made for the wedding, which was held soon
after with great pomp and magnificence.
Three months of great happiness followed, when Militza received one
day an invitation to visit her mother’s sister.
Although the Princess was very unhappy at leaving her husband, she did
not like to refuse the invitation, and, promising to return in seven
days at the latest, she took a tender farewell of the Prince, and
said: ‘Before I go I will hand you over all the keys of the castle. Go
everywhere and do anything you like; only one thing I beg and beseech
you, do not open the little iron door in the north tower, which is
closed with seven locks and seven bolts; for if you do, we shall both
suffer for it.’
Iwanich promised what she asked, and Militza departed, repeating her
promise to return in seven days.