among the other guests. The Fire-son did not appear till everyone had
assembled, and when he did, everyone fled outside to the open air, so
intense was the heat he gave forth. Then the King was very angry and
said, ‘If I had known what a lot of trouble you would have been, I
would never have taken you into my house.’ Then the Fire-son replied
with a laugh, ‘Don’t be angry, dear brother! I love heat and my sister
loves cold—come here and let me embrace you, and then I’ll go home at
once.’ And before the King had time to reply, the Fire-son seized him
in a tight embrace. The King screamed aloud in agony, and when his
wife, the Snow-daughter, who had taken refuge from her brother in the
next room, hurried to him, the King lay dead on the ground burnt to a
cinder. When the Snow-daughter saw this she turned on her brother and
flew at him. Then a fight began, the like of which had never been seen
on earth. When the people, attracted by the noise, hurried to the
spot, they saw the Snow-daughter melting into water and the Fire-son
burn to a cinder. And so ended the unhappy brother and sister.
_THE STORY OF KING FROST_[26]
There was once upon a time a peasant-woman who had a daughter and a
step-daughter. The daughter had her own way in everything, and
whatever she did was right in her mother’s eyes; but the poor
step-daughter had a hard time. Let her do what she would, she was
always blamed, and got small thanks for all the trouble she took;
nothing was right, everything wrong; and yet, if the truth were known,
the girl was worth her weight in gold—she was so unselfish and
good-hearted. But her step-mother did not like her, and the poor
girl’s days were spent in weeping; for it was impossible to live
peacefully with the woman. The wicked shrew was determined to get rid
of the girl by fair means or foul, and kept saying to her father:
‘Send her away, old man; send her away—anywhere so that my eyes
shan’t be plagued any longer by the sight of her, or my ears tormented
by the sound of her voice. Send her out into the fields, and let the
cutting frost do for her.’
In vain did the poor old father weep and implore her pity; she was
firm, and he dared not gainsay her. So he placed his daughter in a
sledge, not even daring to give her a horse-cloth to keep herself warm
with, and drove her out on to the bare, open fields, where he kissed
her and left her, driving home as fast as he could, that he might not
witness her miserable death.
Deserted by her father, the poor girl sat down under a fir-tree at the
edge of the forest and began to weep silently. Suddenly she heard a
faint sound: it was King Frost springing from tree to tree, and
cracking his fingers as he went. At length he reached the fir-tree
beneath which she was sitting, and with a crisp crackling sound he
alighted beside her, and looked at her lovely face.
‘Well, maiden,’ he snapped out, ‘do you know who I am? I am King
Frost, king of the red-noses.’
[Footnote 26: From the Russian.]
‘All hail to you, great King!’ answered the girl, in a gentle,
trembling voice. ‘Have you come to take me?’
‘Are you warm, maiden?’ he replied.
‘Quite warm, King Frost,’ she answered, though she shivered as she
spoke.
Then King Frost stooped down, and bent over the girl, and the
crackling sound grew louder, and the air seemed to be full of knives
and darts; and again he asked:
‘Maiden, are you warm? Are you warm, you beautiful girl?’
And though her breath was almost frozen on her lips, she whispered
gently, ‘Quite warm, King Frost.’
Then King Frost gnashed his teeth, and cracked his fingers, and his
eyes sparkled, and the crackling, crisp sound was louder than ever,
and for the last time he asked her:
‘Maiden, are you still warm? Are you still warm, little love?’
And the poor girl was so stiff and numb that she could just gasp,
‘Still warm, O King!’
Now her gentle, courteous words and her uncomplaining ways touched
King Frost, and he had pity on her, and he wrapped her up in furs, and
covered her with blankets, and he fetched a great box, in which were
beautiful jewels and a rich robe embroidered in gold and silver. And
she put it on, and looked more lovely than ever, and King Frost
stepped with her into his sledge, with six white horses.
In the meantime the wicked step-mother was waiting at home for news of
the girl’s death, and preparing pancakes for the funeral feast. And
she said to her husband: ‘Old man, you had better go out into the
fields and find your daughter’s body and bury her.’ Just as the old
man was leaving the house the little dog under the table began to
bark, saying:
‘_Your_ daughter shall live to be your delight;
_Her_ daughter shall die this very night.’
‘Hold your tongue, you foolish beast!’ scolded the woman. ‘There’s a
pancake for you, but you must say:
“_Her_ daughter shall have much silver and gold;
_His_ daughter is frozen quite stiff and cold.”’
But the doggie ate up the pancake and barked, saying:
‘His daughter shall wear a crown on her head;
Her daughter shall die unwooed, unwed.’
Then the old woman tried to coax the doggie with more pancakes and to
terrify it with blows, but he barked on, always repeating the same
words. And suddenly the door creaked and flew open, and a great heavy
chest was pushed in, and behind it came the step-daughter, radiant and
beautiful, in a dress all glittering with silver and gold. For a
moment the step-mother’s eyes were dazzled. Then she called to her
husband: ‘Old man, yoke the horses at once into the sledge, and take
my daughter to the same field and leave her on the same spot exactly;’
and so the old man took the girl and left her beneath the same tree
where he had parted from his daughter. In a few minutes King Frost
came past, and, looking at the girl, he said:
[Illustration: “Maiden are you Warm?”]
‘Are you warm, maiden?’
‘What a blind old fool you must be to ask such a question!’ she
answered angrily. ‘Can’t you see that my hands and feet are nearly
frozen?’
Then King Frost sprang to and fro in front of her, questioning her,
and getting only rude, rough words in reply, till at last he got very
angry, and cracked his fingers, and gnashed his teeth, and froze her
to death.
But in the hut her mother was waiting for her return, and as she grew
impatient she said to her husband: ‘Get out the horses, old man, to go
and fetch her home; but see that you are careful not to upset the
sledge and lose the chest.’
But the doggie beneath the table began to bark, saying:
‘Your daughter is frozen quite stiff and cold,
And shall never have a chest full of gold.’
‘Don’t tell such wicked lies!’ scolded the woman. ‘There’s a cake for
you; now say:
“_Her_ daughter shall marry a mighty King.”’
At that moment the door flew open, and she rushed out to meet her
daughter, and as she took her frozen body in her arms she too was
chilled to death.
_THE DEATH OF THE SUN-HERO_[27]
Many, many thousand years ago there lived a mighty King whom heaven
had blessed with a clever and beautiful son. When he was only ten
years old the boy was cleverer than all the King’s counsellors put
together, and when he was twenty he was the greatest hero in the whole
kingdom. His father could not make enough of his son, and always had
him clothed in golden garments which shone and sparkled like the sun;
and his mother gave him a white horse, which never slept, and which
flew like the wind. All the people in the land loved him dearly, and
called him the Sun-Hero, for they did not think his like existed under
the sun. Now it happened one night that both his parents had the same
extraordinary dream. They dreamt that a girl all dressed in red had
come to them and said: ‘If you wish that your son should really become
the Sun-Hero in deed and not only in name, let him go out into the
world and search for the Tree of the Sun, and when he has found it,
let him pluck a golden apple from it and bring it home.’
When the King and Queen had each related their dreams to the other,
they were much amazed that they should both have dreamt exactly the
same about their son, and the King said to his wife, ‘This is clearly
a sign from heaven that we should send our son out into the world in
order that he may come home the great Sun-Hero, as the Red Girl said,
not only in name but in deed.’
The Queen consented with many tears, and the King at once bade his son
set forth in search of the Tree of the Sun, from which he was to pluck
a golden apple. The Prince was delighted at the prospect, and set out
on his travels that very day.
[Footnote 27: From the _Bukowinaer Tales and Legends_. Von Wliolocki.]
For a long time he wandered all through the world, and it was not till
the ninety-ninth day after he started that he found an old man who was
able to tell him where the Tree of the Sun grew. He followed his
directions, and rode on his way, and after another ninety-nine days he
arrived at a golden castle, which stood in the middle of a vast
wilderness. He knocked at the door, which was opened noiselessly and
by invisible hands. Finding no one about, the Prince rode on, and came
to a great meadow, where the Sun-Tree grew. When he reached the tree
he put out his hand to pick a golden apple; but all of a sudden the
tree grew higher, so that he could not reach its fruit. Then he heard
some one behind him laughing. Turning round, he saw the girl in red
walking towards him, who addressed him in these words:
‘Do you really imagine, brave son of the earth, that you can pluck an
apple so easily from the Tree of the Sun? Before you can do that, you
have a difficult task before you. You must guard the tree for nine
days and nine nights from the ravages of two wild black wolves, who
will try to harm it. Do you think you can undertake this?’
[Illustration: The Sun-hero Guards the Apples of the Sun]
‘Yes,’ answered the Sun-Hero, ‘I will guard the Tree of the Sun nine
days and nine nights.’
Then the girl continued: ‘Remember, though, if you do not succeed the
Sun will kill you. Now begin your watch.’
With these words the Red Girl went back into the golden castle. She
had hardly left him when the two black wolves appeared: but the
Sun-Hero beat them off with his sword, and they retired, only,
however, to reappear in a very short time. The Sun-Hero chased them
away once more, but he had hardly sat down to rest when the two black
wolves were on the scene again. This went on for seven days and
nights, when the white horse, who had never done such a thing before,
turned to the Sun-Hero and said in a human voice: ‘Listen to what I am
going to say. A Fairy gave me to your mother in order that I might be
of service to you; so let me tell you, that if you go to sleep and let
the wolves harm the tree, the Sun will surely kill you. The Fairy,
foreseeing this, put everyone in the world under a spell, which
prevents their obeying the Sun’s command to take your life. But all
the same, she has forgotten one person, who will certainly kill you if
you fall asleep and let the wolves damage the tree. So watch and keep
the wolves away.’
Then the Sun-Hero strove with all his might and kept the black wolves
at bay, and conquered his desire to sleep; but on the eighth night his
strength failed him, and he fell fast asleep. When he awoke a woman in
black stood beside him, who said: ‘You have fulfilled your task very
badly, for you have let the two black wolves damage the Tree of the
Sun. I am the mother of the Sun, and I command you to ride away from
here at once, and I pronounce sentence of death upon you, for you
proudly let yourself be called the Sun-Hero without having done
anything to deserve the name.’
The youth mounted his horse sadly, and rode home. The people all
thronged round him on his return, anxious to hear his adventures, but
he told them nothing, and only to his mother did he confide what had
befallen him. But the old Queen laughed, and said to her son: ‘Don’t
worry, my child; you see, the Fairy has protected you so far, and the
Sun has found no one to kill you. So cheer up and be happy.’
After a time the Prince forgot all about his adventure, and married a
beautiful Princess, with whom he lived very happily for some time. But
one day when he was out hunting he felt very thirsty, and coming to a
stream he stooped down to drink from it, and this caused his death,
for a crab came swimming up, and with its claws tore out his tongue.
He was carried home in a dying condition, and as he lay on his
death-bed the black woman appeared and said: ‘So the Sun has, after
all, found someone, who was not under the Fairy’s spell, who has
caused your death. And a similar fate will overtake everyone under the
Sun who wrongfully assumes a title to which he has no right.’
_THE WITCH_[28]
Once upon a time there was a peasant whose wife died, leaving him with
two children—twins—a boy and a girl. For some years the poor man
lived on alone with the children, caring for them as best he could;
but everything in the house seemed to go wrong without a woman to look
after it, and at last he made up his mind to marry again, feeling that
a wife would bring peace and order to his household and take care of
his motherless children. So he married, and in the following years
several children were born to him; but peace and order did not come to
the household. For the step-mother was very cruel to the twins, and
beat them, and half-starved them, and constantly drove them out of the
house; for her one idea was to get them out of the way. All day she
thought of nothing but how she should get rid of them; and at last an
evil idea came into her head, and she determined to send them out into
the great gloomy wood where a wicked witch lived. And so one morning
she spoke to them, saying:
‘You have been such good children that I am going to send you to visit
my granny, who lives in a dear little hut in the wood. You will have
to wait upon her and serve her, but you will be well rewarded, for she
will give you the best of everything.’
So the children left the house together; and the little sister, who
was very wise for her years, said to the brother:
‘We will first go and see our own dear grandmother, and tell her where
our step-mother is sending us.’
[Footnote 28: From the Russian.]
And when the grandmother heard where they were going, she cried and
said:
‘You poor motherless children! How I pity you; and yet I can do
nothing to help you! Your step-mother is not sending you to her
granny, but to a wicked witch who lives in that great gloomy wood. Now
listen to me, children. You must be civil and kind to everyone, and
never say a cross word to anyone, and never touch a crumb belonging to
anyone else. Who knows if, after all, help may not be sent to you?’
And she gave her grandchildren a bottle of milk and a piece of ham and
a loaf of bread, and they set out for the great gloomy wood. When they
reached it they saw in front of them, in the thickest of the trees, a
queer little hut, and when they looked into it, there lay the witch,
with her head on the threshold of the door, with one foot in one
corner and the other in the other corner, and her knees cocked up,
almost touching the ceiling.
‘Who’s there?’ she snarled, in an awful voice, when she saw the
children.
[Illustration: Who’s There?]
And they answered civilly, though they were so terrified that they hid
behind one another, and said:
‘Good-morning, granny; our step-mother has sent us to wait upon you,
and serve you.’
‘See that you do it well, then,’ growled the witch. ‘If I am pleased
with you, I’ll reward you; but if I am not, I’ll put you in a pan and
fry you in the oven—that’s what I’ll do with you, my pretty dears!
You have been gently reared, but you’ll find my work hard enough. See
if you don’t.’
And, so saying, she set the girl down to spin yarn, and she gave the
boy a sieve in which to carry water from the well, and she herself
went out into the wood. Now, as the girl was sitting at her distaff,
weeping bitterly because she could not spin, she heard the sound of
hundreds of little feet, and from every hole and corner in the hut
mice came pattering along the floor, squeaking and saying:
‘Little girl, why are your eyes so red?
If you want help, then give us some bread.’
And the girl gave them the bread that her grandmother had given her.
Then the mice told her that the witch had a cat, and the cat was very
fond of ham; if she would give the cat her ham, it would show her the
way out of the wood, and in the meantime they would spin the yarn for
her. So the girl set out to look for the cat, and, as she was hunting
about, she met her brother, in great trouble because he could not
carry water from the well in a sieve, as it came pouring out as fast
as he put it in. And as she was trying to comfort him they heard a
rustling of wings, and a flight of wrens alighted on the ground beside
them. And the wrens said:
‘Give us some crumbs, then you need not grieve.
For you’ll find that water will stay in the sieve.’
Then the twins crumbled their bread on the ground, and the wrens
pecked it, and chirruped and chirped. And when they had eaten the last
crumb they told the boy to fill up the holes of the sieve with clay,
and then to draw water from the well. So he did what they said, and
carried the sieve full of water into the hut without spilling a drop.
When they entered the hut the cat was curled up on the floor. So they
stroked her, and fed her with ham, and said to her:
‘Pussy, grey pussy, tell us how we are to get away from the witch?’
Then the cat thanked them for the ham, and gave them a
pocket-handkerchief and a comb, and told them that when the witch
pursued them, as she certainly would, all they had to do was to throw
the handkerchief on the ground and run as fast as they could. As soon
as the handkerchief touched the ground a deep, broad river would
spring up, which would hinder the witch’s progress. If she managed to
get across it, they must throw the comb behind them and run for their
lives, for where the comb fell a dense forest would start up, which
would delay the witch so long that they would be able to get safely
away.
The cat had scarcely finished speaking when the witch returned to see
if the children had fulfilled their tasks.
‘Well, you have done well enough for to-day,’ she grumbled; ‘but
to-morrow you’ll have something more difficult to do, and if you don’t
do it well, you pampered brats, straight into the oven you go.’
Half-dead with fright, and trembling in every limb, the poor children
lay down to sleep on a heap of straw in the corner of the hut; but
they dared not close their eyes, and scarcely ventured to breathe. In
the morning the witch gave the girl two pieces of linen to weave
before night, and the boy a pile of wood to cut into chips. Then the
witch left them to their tasks, and went out into the wood. As soon as
she had gone out of sight the children took the comb and the
handkerchief, and, taking one another by the hand, they started and
ran, and ran, and ran. And first they met the watch-dog, who was going
to leap on them and tear them to pieces; but they threw the remains of
their bread to him, and he ate them and wagged his tail. Then they
were hindered by the birch-trees, whose branches almost put their eyes
out. But the little sister tied the twigs together with a piece of
ribbon, and they got past safely, and, after running through the wood,
came out on to the open fields.
In the meantime in the hut the cat was busy weaving the linen and
tangling the threads as it wove. And the witch returned to see how the
children were getting on; and she crept up to the window, and
whispered:
‘Are you weaving, my little dear?’
‘Yes, granny, I am weaving,’ answered the cat.
When the witch saw that the children had escaped her, she was furious,
and, hitting the cat with a porringer, she said: ‘Why did you let the
children leave the hut? Why did you not scratch their eyes out?’
But the cat curled up its tail and put its back up, and answered: ‘I
have served you all these years and you never even threw me a bone,
but the dear children gave me their own piece of ham.’
Then the witch was furious with the watch-dog and with the
birch-trees, because they had let the children pass. But the dog
answered:
‘I have served you all these years and you never gave me so much as a
hard crust, but the dear children gave me their own loaf of bread.’
And the birch rustled its leaves, and said: ‘I have served you longer
than I can say, and you never tied a bit of twine even round my
branches; and the dear children bound them up with their brightest
ribbons.’
So the witch saw there was no help to be got from her old servants,
and that the best thing she could do was to mount on her broom and set
off in pursuit of the children. And as the children ran they heard the
sound of the broom sweeping the ground close behind them, so instantly
they threw the handkerchief down over their shoulder, and in a moment
a deep, broad river flowed behind them.
[Illustration: The comb grows into a forest]
When the witch came up to it, it took her a long time before she found
a place which she could ford over on her broom-stick; but at last she
got across, and continued the chase faster than before. And as the
children ran they heard a sound, and the little sister put her ear to
the ground, and heard the broom sweeping the earth close behind them;
so, quick as thought, she threw the comb down on the ground, and in an
instant, as the cat had said, a dense forest sprung up, in which the
roots and branches were so closely intertwined, that it was impossible
to force a way through it. So when the witch came up to it on her
broom she found that there was nothing for it but to turn round and go
back to her hut.
But the twins ran straight on till they reached their own home. Then
they told their father all that they had suffered, and he was so angry
with their step-mother that he drove her out of the house, and never
let her return; but he and the children lived happily together; and he
took care of them himself, and never let a stranger come near them.
_THE HAZEL-NUT CHILD_[29]
There was once upon a time a couple who had no children, and they
prayed Heaven every day to send them a child, though it were no bigger
than a hazel-nut. At last Heaven heard their prayer and sent them a
child exactly the size of a hazel-nut, and it never grew an inch. The
parents were very devoted to the little creature, and nursed and
tended it carefully. Their tiny son too was as clever as he could be,
and so sharp and sensible that all the neighbours marvelled over the
wise things he said and did.
When the Hazel-nut child was fifteen years old, and was sitting one
day in an egg-shell on the table beside his mother, she turned to him
and said, ‘You are now fifteen years old, and nothing can be done with
you. What do you intend to be?’
‘A messenger,’ answered the Hazel-nut child.
Then his mother burst out laughing and said, ‘What an idea! You a
messenger! Why, your little feet would take an hour to go the distance
an ordinary person could do in a minute!’
But the Hazel-nut child replied, ‘Nevertheless I mean to be a
messenger! Just send me a message and you’ll see that I shall be back
in next to no time.’
[Footnote 29: From the _Bukowniaer_. Von Wliolocki.]
So his mother said, ‘Very well, go to your aunt in the neighbouring
village, and fetch me a comb.’ The Hazel-nut child jumped quickly out
of the egg-shell and ran out into the street. Here he found a man on
horseback who was just setting out for the neighbouring village. He
crept up the horse’s leg, sat down under the saddle, and then began to
pinch the horse and to prick it with a pin. The horse plunged and
reared and then set off at a hard gallop, which it continued in spite
of its rider’s efforts to stop it. When they reached the village, the
Hazel-nut child left off pricking the horse, and the poor tired
creature pursued its way at a snail’s pace. The Hazel-nut child took
advantage of this, and crept down the horse’s leg; then he ran to his
aunt and asked her for a comb. On the way home he met another rider,
and did the return journey in exactly the same way. When he handed his
mother the comb that his aunt had given him, she was much amazed and
asked him, ‘But how did you manage to get back so quickly?’
‘Ah! mother,’ he replied, ‘you see I was quite right when I said I
knew a messenger was the profession for me.’
His father too possessed a horse which he often used to take out into
the fields to graze. One day he took the Hazel-nut child with him. At
midday the father turned to his small son and said, ‘Stay here and
look after the horse. I must go home and give your mother a message,
but I shall be back soon.’