any farther. Then the bear took him on his back and they went on. At
last they reached England, and when they came to the suburbs of London,
they met the procession which was conducting the poor princess. All the
people of the land were there, and they were grieved and weeping as
though they were at a funeral. When they came to the edge of an immense
plain, all bare and desolate, all the people turned back and left the
poor princess to go on her way alone. The cavern of the dragon was in
the midst of this plain, and twice a day he threw out fire from his
seven mouths, and burned up all vegetation for several leagues around.
The poor princess, abandoned by all the world, went slowly on, sobbing
and shedding great tears. Hervé, who was provided with a horse, joined
her, followed by his three animals, and said to her,--
“Come with me in the croup, dear lady, and I will take you where you
are going.”
“Alas!” she replied, “I shall get there only too soon, and I do not
wish to run to my death.”
“Confide in me, mount to the croup on my horse, and I will save you
from the monster, with the aid of my three companions whom you see.”
And he showed her the three animals who were following him.
The princess mounted, and immediately Hervé put his horse at a gallop,
for already the dragon had begun to throw out fire.
The hare had told each one what to do. He had said to the bear,--
“You, bear, must drag the monster from his cavern; and you, fox, fill
your stomach with water so as to extinguish the fire which he will
throw on us, while I shall fight with my good saber.”
When they reached the opening of the cavern, the dragon said,--
“Here you are at last, daughter of the king of England! I was getting
impatient, and you have done well to come, for I should have reduced
your father’s whole kingdom to ashes if you had kept me waiting too
long. But I see that you have not come alone; so much the better, for I
shall eat you all.”
Then, addressing Hervé:--
“Throw me the princess first.”
“Come take her,” he replied.
“Throw her to me, I tell you, and at once!”
“Come take her, I tell you, if you want her.”
“Throw her to me, or I shall burn you to ashes.”
“Pshaw! I am not afraid of you.”
And addressing his companions:--
“Come, my friends, do your duty and work hard.”
Then the bear seized the monster and dragged him from his cave.
Immediately he began to throw fire from his seven mouths; but the fox
vomited over it torrents of water, and the hare, on his part, made such
frequent and terrible thrusts with his sword, that at last they killed
the seven heads. “Victory!” then cried Hervé and the princess.
They had conquered, in truth, but not without difficulty, and the
hare, the fox, and the bear, had their skins all torn and burned, and
they were overcome with fatigue. Hervé, himself, and the princess had
suffered somewhat, though they kept at a distance. Moreover, night was
approaching, and for many reasons they could not think of returning
to the city. They resolved then to pass the night in the open plain,
without shelter. Hervé, fearing the effect of a night spent in the open
air upon the princess, whose constitution appeared delicate, was much
troubled. Fortunately there were on the plain great masses of rocks
to which they repaired, and when the bear had rolled together several
bowlders so as to form quite a sheltering cavern, they all gathered
there to wait for the morning, except the horse, who was fastened
near by and slept on the sand. Then the hare served as a pillow for the
princess, and the bear slept at her feet to keep them warm. The fox
was a little indisposed from having drunk too much water, in spite of
having thrown it all up.
[Illustration: THE BEAR SEIZED THE MONSTER AND DRAGGED HIM FROM HIS
CAVE.]
Before going to sleep, though very much fatigued, they talked a little
over the events of the struggle and their plans for the future. It was
clearly understood that Hervé should marry the princess.
A charcoal-burner, who was passing by, heard a noise and stopped to
listen. He drew near the rocks, heard all their conversation, and
resolved to profit by it. When they were all fast asleep, he took away
the rock which closed the entrance to the grotto, entered softly, cut
off Hervé’s head, and carried off the princess. The hare, the fox, and
the bear were so broken down by fatigue that they heard not a sound.
When they woke next morning, and saw Hervé dead, with his head cut off,
and the princess nowhere to be seen, their astonishment was great.
“How is it, bear, that you who were at the feet of the princess did not
wake up?” said the hare.
“I was so weary,” replied the bear, “that I slept like a rock.”
“And you, fox, whose ear is so keen?”
“And you, yourself, hare, who served as a pillow for the princess?”
replied the fox.
“The first thing to be done,” said the hare, “is to put our master’s
head again upon his shoulders and bring him to life; then we will
see what has become of the princess. Fortunately I know how to make
an ointment which will bring the dead to life, but I shall need the
assistance of you both to do this. You, bear, must find and bring to me
the solitary worm which is hidden a thousand feet under the ground; and
you, fox, bring me a blackbird and a gray raven to make my ointment.”
“But that is not easy,” said the bear, “a thousand feet under the
ground.”
“Suppose you go look for them yourself,” said the fox.
“And would you know how to make the ointment? You wouldn’t, would you?”
“Go, then, each on your way, work, and do not return without bringing
me what I have ordered.”
So the bear went in one direction, growling, and the fox took another
road, grumbling.
The bear went all over the plain, with his nose to the earth, sniffing
everywhere. He stopped at last and began to dig up the earth. He dug
and dug till he came to the solitary worm, and he seized it eagerly and
carried it to the hare.
The fox had run to a forest which he had perceived from a distance,
mounting to it over a mass of rocks. He stretched himself on his back
in the bottom of a ravine, where there was a little running brook, his
four paws in the air and his mouth wide open, as if he were dead. Soon
a blackbird flew down upon him from a tree, hoping to regale himself.
But the make-believe snapped it up quickly and strangled it. He hid it
in a bush, went a little farther, and stretched himself under an old
oak, and pretended to be dead again. After a while a gray raven passed
by, crying, _Oak! oak!_ and seeing a dead fox, lighted on him, and was
caught like the blackbird.
Then the fox also took the fruit of his search to the hare, who
immediately set about preparing the ointment. And when it was finished
he said to the bear,--
“Come, bear, stand your master on his feet and keep him in that
position.”
The bear stood Hervé’s body up.
“Now, then, put his head in its place.”
The bear took his head, and put it on facing the wrong way.
“Idiot! see what you are doing!”
Then the hare himself put it on in the right way, rubbed the wound and
the whole body with his ointment, and the head grew again on the neck,
life returned little by little to the whole body, Hervé opened his
eyes, rubbed them as one does on awaking, and said, “How well I have
slept!” Then looking round and seeing only the hare, the fox, and the
bear,--
“Where is the princess?” he asked.
The hare told him all that had happened and he was greatly astonished.
But the disappearance of the princess vexed him very much.
“Be comforted,” said the hare to him, “we will find her again.”
The charcoal-burner carried her back to her father, the king of
England, and claimed to be her deliverer and the conqueror of the
dragon. The old king had promised the hand of his daughter to the man
who should deliver her from the monster, whoever he might be. But the
princess, who knew the treachery of the charcoal-burner, refuses to
take him for her husband, and declares it is not he to whom she owes
her life, although the impostor shows the seven heads of the dragon
which he has cut off and brought with him in a sack. He has the heads,
but the heads have no tongues in them, for “I cut them out myself and
here they are.” Then he showed them where he had put them in a corner
of the grotto, adding: “In spite of the resistance of the princess,
her father, finding the proofs quite sufficient, and wishing to keep
his word, has fixed to-morrow for the wedding. We have then no time
to lose, and we must set off at once.” So they all four started out
on the road to London. Hervé was on horseback, having in the croup
the tongues of the dragon in a bag; the hare, the fox, and the bear
followed him.
They stopped in a small wood near the king’s palace, and the hare said
to his companions, “You three remain here, and I will go and see what
is going on in the king’s palace.”
Then he crept into the palace and went even into the dining-hall,
where they were at table when he arrived. There had been feasting and
rejoicing every day since the return of the king’s daughter; not only
at the palace, but in the whole city.
The charcoal-burner was betrothed to the princess, and although she
steadily refused to take him for her husband, the marriage was to take
place the next day.
“Look! look! a hare!” cried the guests, astonished.
The servants went in pursuit of it and tried to catch it. About to be
overtaken, he jumped into the princess’s lap, and said in a low voice,--
“It is I! Hervé is still alive and loves you always!”
“What! is it you, poor animal?”
And she embraced him and gave him some sweetmeats.
The charcoal-burner, seeing this, cried,--
“Drive it away, this ugly beast.”
“What harm has he done?” said the princess, wrapping the hare in the
skirt of her gown.
“Drive it away quickly, I tell you; it is an infamous sorcerer.”
“A sorcerer?” cried the old king, much frightened.
“A sorcerer! put him out the door at once!”
And the servants, armed with brooms and sticks, set to work to drive
away the hare.
But the latter leaped lightly through the window, and rejoined his
companions in the woods.
The charcoal-burner urged the old king to have the marriage take place
the next morning. But the princess cried and implored her father so
constantly that the ceremony was deferred to the day after.
The hare had told Hervé, as well as the fox and the bear, what was
going on at the palace.
“I, too, will go there to-morrow,” said the fox.
“Take care you are not caught,” said the hare.
“Fear nothing, and be sure that I shall not return without having had a
taste of the feast and bringing you your share also.”
So the fox set out the next day, as he had said, at the hour for
dinner. He also got well into the dining-hall; but as soon as the
charcoal-burner saw him he rose and cried out,--
“See! the wicked sorcerer has come back again. Drive him out at once,
or something dreadful will happen to us!”
Then all the servants hunted down the poor animal with brooms and
sticks.
He leaped on the table, passed near the princess, and said to her,
“To-morrow we will all come; Hervé, the hare, the bear, and I.” Then he
jumped through the window. As he passed through the court he snapped up
a hen and ran off with her to the wood.
The next day the whole little company, Hervé, the hare, the fox and the
bear, went to the palace. The bear marched at the head, carrying Hervé
on his back. The others followed, and thus made their way into the
banquet hall.
Every one wished to escape from this sight, the charcoal-burner first
of all. But Hervé, raising his hand, said,--
“Stay! let no one go out for a moment, or he will have to deal with my
friend here.” And he pulled the bear’s ear, who growled.
“Do you believe, sire, that it is this ugly, charcoal-burner here, this
impostor, who has delivered your daughter from the dragon, and are you
willing to give him your daughter’s hand?”
“I am a man of my word,” said the king.
“Very well! the man who delivered your daughter from the monster is
not this charcoal-burner; it is I who have done it with the aid of my
friends;” and he pointed to his three animals.
The charcoal-burner was white as the cloth before him.
“He has given us his proofs,” replied the king; “he brought us the
seven heads of the dragon.”
“Very well; let me see these heads and I will expose the fraud.”
The king ordered the dragon’s heads to be brought, and a servant
emptied them from a bag on the flags of the hall.
“Open their mouths,” said Hervé then, “and see if they have tongues.”
The same servant opened the jaws of the seven heads, one after the
other, and not one had a tongue; all had been cut out.
“Where are the tongues?” said the king.
“Here they are,” said Hervé, throwing them on the table.
“Yes, it is indeed he who is my deliverer, and who shall be my
husband!” cried the princess, throwing herself on Hervé’s neck.
Seeing that everything was going against him, the charcoal-burner
wanted to go out, but the bear stopped the way.
Then the old king, addressing his servants, said angrily,--
“Seize this impostor and let him be burned!”
And they built an enormous pile of fagots, set it on fire, and threw
the charcoal-burner into the midst of the flames. Then Hervé married
the princess and they had holidays and magnificent banquets.
Told by Margaret Philip, of Pluzunet, 1873.
F. M. LUZEL.
PAPA TIGER AND PAPA SHEEP
A CREOLE STORY
A long, long time ago the sheep was feared by all the animals on the
savannas, and in the great forests. When he passed along the road,
walking slowly, his face grave and stern, with his long white beard and
his curved horns, it was frightful, and the animals who met him saluted
him politely, then ran away as fast as their legs could carry them. Had
he ever eaten any of his neighbors? The gossips of the country dared
not say so positively, but he looked so terrible, that, as they say, it
is better to believe it than to go to see. By degrees, from hearing it
said that he was to be feared, he finally came to believe it entirely
himself. Once when he was stooping over a brook to drink, he saw his
image in the stream, and jumped three feet back, frightened at the
sight of his beard and his horns.
A Tiger, which lived not far from Papa Sheep’s hut, plucked up all his
courage one day, and determined to make a formal visit to his neighbor.
He took with him his son, a little tiger already able to walk about.
As far off as he could see Papa Sheep, he saluted him very humbly, and
when he came near he asked after his family.
“Neighbor, I have come to pay my respects to you, and my wife would
have been pleased to pay her compliments to Madam Sheep if she had not
been kept at home by indisposition.”
Papa Sheep invited Papa Tiger to come into his house. While the two
fathers conversed gravely on the affairs of the country, little Tiger
went to play in the garden with little Sheep.
“Be very polite to little Sheep,” said his father to him, “or else he
will eat you.”
So the two children began to play together; after a moment or so little
Tiger jumped on little Sheep and threw him down head over heels. Then
little Sheep laughed.
“Bless me! what little teeth you have!” said little Tiger to him.
“It is so with all my family; Papa’s are all like mine,” said little
Sheep.
This remark made little Tiger reflect; and when the visit was over, and
father and son had left their hosts, little Tiger scarcely waited for
Papa Sheep to shut the door before he said to his father,--
“Papa, Papa, little Sheep has very small teeth, and he told me that his
father’s were no longer than his own.”
“Hold your tongue, hold your tongue, you rascal; if Papa Sheep should
hear us, he would eat us both up.”
Papa Tiger resolved, however, to know the truth of this matter.
Certainly, Papa Sheep had seemed to him very fat, and only the thought
of it made him lick his moustaches. But how could he see Papa Sheep’s
teeth? This was not easy. Papa Sheep scarcely ever opened his mouth to
speak, and his beard entirely covered his lower lip and chin. However,
the opportunity came to the Tiger as it does to all those who know
how to wait. The day that Papa Sheep and his son returned his visit,
while the children were playing outside, he was exceedingly polite to
Sheep, and gave him a bottle of his best wine, then a second, and a
third. Papa Sheep became extremely gay, and losing his seriousness, he
opened his mouth wide so as to enjoy his laugh. Then Papa Tiger saw his
guest’s little teeth. Without hesitation he jumped on the Sheep and
throttled him. Hearing his father scream, little Sheep ran off as fast
as he could, and reached his home before the Tiger, excited over his
first prey, had thought of following him.
All day long there were nothing but tears and groanings in the Sheep’s
hut. Mamma Sheep and her son cried until it was a pity to hear them.
Hearing the noise they made, the Queen of the Birds came flying from
the great forest near by, and lighting on the roof of the hut, she
asked Mamma Sheep the cause of her grief.
“Alas! kind lady, Papa Tiger has eaten up my poor husband! My child and
I do not dare to go out, for he will come prowling around here to eat
us also.”
Touched by her grief, the Queen of the Birds consoled her as well
as she could, and promised her a complete revenge. Then with a few
flaps of her wings she soon reached the neighboring forest. All the
birds of the great forest responded to her appeal; the large Aras,
with their brilliant plumage; the Cockatoos, with their white crests;
thousands of emerald Paroquets, with coral beaks; little scarlet and
green Humming-birds, looking like precious stones, to which God had
given wings. The Queen told them of the death of Papa Sheep. “Let us
swear to avenge our good neighbor,” cried she. “We swear it!” squalled,
whistled, and screamed the birds, each in his own language.
At this deafening noise, the Alligators ran to hide themselves in the
high grass, the Boas and Rattlesnakes ran hastily into the hollows of
the trees.
“Be confident!” said the Queen of the Birds. “To-morrow is Sunday; I
will give a great feast in the forest. As soon as high mass is over I
wish all the birds of the forest to assemble. My pretty Paroquets, fly
around and give the invitations. Get everything ready for the feast;
be prompt at the appointed hour, and obey me in everything. I will fly
over myself and invite Papa Tiger.”
Flattered by the visit of the Queen of the Birds, Papa Tiger promised
to come to the great ball in the forest. He put on his finest clothes,
curled his moustache, and before setting out he kissed his wife on her
lips, and his son on his two cheeks.
As soon as they saw him come the Queen of the Birds cried to all her
subjects,--
“Take your places quickly, form the quadrilles, and let each one of you
begin to dance, hiding his head under his wing. Music, play!”
And the orchestra played,--
“Tig, tig, malinboin
La chelema che tango
Redjoum
La chelema che tango!”
The Queen of the Birds flew down before Papa Tiger, and bade him
welcome. How splendid the feast was! Papa Tiger was dazzled by it! Long
lines of birds with rich plumage placed themselves opposite each other.
“The quadrille is beginning now,” said the Queen; “you shall be my
cavalier.” Papa Tiger stood up beside his partner, and the orchestra
played,--
“Tig, tig, malinboin
La chelema che tango
Redjoum
La chelema che tango!”
At once the birds, their heads under their wings, began to dance to
the music. The Queen also hid her head, and when Papa Tiger, proud,
and marching with his head high, was about to make the first turn, she
cried,--
“But, Papa Tiger, you don’t understand! It is the custom at my court,
that in order to take part in the dance, you must have no head. Look at
all my invited guests; they would consider they had been wanting in the
manners of distinguished society, indeed, in the simplest politeness,
if they dared raise their heads before their sovereign. So, my friend,
do as they do, and you will then be able to move with distinction in
the quadrille of the Queen of the Birds.”
Papa Tiger blushed red with shame.
“My Queen,” he cried, “I beg your pardon humbly for this breach of
etiquette. I am a wild hunter, accustomed to pass entire nights on the
watch, and I am ignorant of the customs of courts. Kindly promise me
a quadrille and I will return in a moment in the attitude that you
require.”
With a few bounds Papa Tiger was at home. He said to his wife,--
“My wife, in order to have the honor of dancing with the Queen of the
Birds, it is essential to have no head; I saw all the guests dancing in
that condition. It is the etiquette of the court. Take this axe and cut
off my head.”
“You have lost it already, my poor husband,” said Mamma Tiger. “Instead
of dancing with Queens, you would do better to stay at home with your
wife and children. I do not like husbands who leave their wives in the
lurch and pass the night at balls.”
“If you do not obey me,” growled the Tiger, in a rage at being scolded
by his wife, “I will strangle you this moment.”
Then Mamma Tiger seized the axe, and with one blow cut off her
husband’s head. It killed him outright, as you may imagine.
Two Paroquets, waiting in ambush, flew off rapidly to carry the news of
the Tiger’s death to the Queen of the Birds. Then the birds all took
their heads from under their wings; all the beasts of the forest were
brought in; each of them wished in his turn to embrace Mamma Sheep and
her son. After that, they formed a line to dance and the orchestra
began to play:--
“Tig, tig, malinboin
La chelema che tango
Redjoum
La chelema che tango!”
It would be impossible to tell you how they leaped, how they fluttered!
At last it was necessary to go away, for everything comes to an end in
this lower world; but before doing so, they took up a collection and
gave the money to little Sheep and his mother.
Sheep, and you children who hear me, let the death of Papa Sheep be a
lesson to you; it is better not to open your mouth than to laugh with
people you know nothing about.
LOYS BRUYERE.
JOHN BIT-OF-A-MAN
A STORY OF THE DISTRICT OF METZ
Once there was a woman who had a little son who was extremely small; so
very small that she named him John Bit-of-a-man. One day she called him
to her and said,--
“Come, take this to your father who is working down there in the
fields, and when you get to him, say: ‘See, father! here is your
buttered roll!’”
“I will, mother,” said John Bit-of-a-man; and all along the way he
repeated the words so as not to forget them: “See, father! here is your
buttered roll; see, father! here is your buttered roll!”
When he reached his father, who was occupied in repairing the ditches,
he took up his refrain: “See, father! here is your buttered roll.”
The good man, hearing some one speak, looked around him on every side,
but saw no one; at last, however, he spied little John Bit-of-a-man in
the grass at his feet.
“Ah!” said he, “it is you, is it? What do you want?”
“I have brought you a buttered roll,” said John Bit-of-a-man.
“You are very good, my child, to bring me this buttered roll;” and
taking it in his hands he ate it all up, without offering John
Bit-of-a-man a mite.
“The glutton! he did not give me any! The glutton! he did not give me
any!” groaned John Bit-of-a-man.
Some time after that, a lord passed by. He called to the laborer. “You
have a pretty little boy; will you sell him to me?”
“I will, gladly.”
“How much will you take?”
“A hundred crowns.”
“A hundred crowns you shall have.”
The bargain concluded, the lord put John Bit-of-a-man in his pocket
and went on his way. At the end of an hour, the child put his head out
of the pocket and begged his master to put him down on the ground for
a moment as he felt faint. The lord was good enough to listen to him,
and in a moment John Bit-of-a-man glided under a heap of leaves and his
master could not find him. John Bit-of-a-man, being free once more,
went back to his father.
A few days after that, the lord again passed by the laborer, who was
still repairing the ditches. “You have a pretty little boy there,” said
he; “will you sell him to me?”
“I will, gladly.”
“How much will you take?”
“A hundred crowns.”
“A hundred crowns you shall have.”
The bargain concluded, the lord clapped John Bit-of-a-man into his
pocket. At the end of an hour the child put his head out of the pocket
and begged his master to put him down on the ground awhile as he felt
cramped.
“Well, stay in my pocket and be cramped!” said the lord, who remembered
how he had been caught before.
When he reached his castle, he took John Bit-of-a-man out of his
pocket and put him in a basket which he suspended from the kitchen
ceiling, and told him to watch everything he saw going on, and tell him
faithfully all that he saw.