SHE was a witch, she was very old, and she was always hungry, and she
lived long ago near a forest where now is Uruguay, and just in the
corner where Brazil and Argentina touch. They were the days when mighty
beasts moved in the marshes and when strange creatures with wings like
bats flew in the air. There were also great worms then, so strong that
they bored through mountains and rocks as an ordinary worm makes its way
through clay. The size and the strength of the old witch may be guessed
when you know that she once caught one of the giant worms and killed it
for the sake of the stone in its head. And there is this about the
stone—it is green in colour and shaped like an arrow-head a little
blunted, and precious for those who know the secret, because he who has
one may fly through the air between sunrise and sunset, but never in the
night.
The old witch had another secret thing. It was a powder, and the
knowledge of how to make it was hers alone and is now lost. All that is
known of it is that it was made from the dried bodies of tree-frogs
mixed with goat’s milk. With it she could, by sprinkling a little of it
where wanted, make things grow wonderfully. She could also turn plants
to animals with it, or change vines into serpents, thorn-bushes into
foxes, little leaves into ants. Living creatures she also changed,
turning cats into jaguars, lizards into alligators, and bats into
horrible flying things.
This old witch had lived for hundreds of years, so long indeed that the
memory of men did not know a time when she was not, and fathers and
grandfathers and great grandfathers all had the same tale to tell of how
she had always devoured cattle and pigs and goats, making no account at
all of carrying off in one night all the animals of a village. To be
sure, some had tried to fight her by shooting arrows, but it was of no
use, for by her magic the shafts were bent into a shape like a letter V
as soon as they touched her. So in time it came about that men would put
outside the village in a corral one half of what they had raised in a
year, letting the old witch take it, hoping that thus she would leave
them in peace.
At last there grew up a lad, a sober fellow of courage, who said little
and thought much, and he refused to take animals to the corral when the
time came for the old witch to visit that place.
When the people asked him his reason for refusing, he said that he had
had a dream in which he saw himself as a bird in a cage, but when he had
been there a little while a sweet climbing vine had grown up about the
cage and on this vine was a white flower which twisted its way in
between the bars. Then, as he looked at it, the flower changed to a
smiling maiden who held a golden key in her hand. This key she had given
to him and with it he had opened the door of the cage. So, he went on to
say, both he and the maiden had gone away. What the end of the dream was
he did not know, for at that point he had wakened with the sound of
singing and music in his ears, from which he judged that all turned out
well, though he had not seen the end of it.
Because of this dream and what it might betoken he said that he would
not put anything in the corral for the old witch, but instead would
venture forth and seek her out, to the end that the land might be free
from her witcheries and evil work. Nor could any persuade him to the
contrary.
“It is not right,” he said, “that we should give away for nothing that
which we have grown and tended and learned to love, nor is it right that
we should feed and fatten the evil thing that destroys us.”
So the wise men of that place named the lad by a word which means Stout
Heart, and because he was loved by all, many trembled and turned pale
when the morning came on which he took his lance and alone went off into
the forest, ready for whatever might befall.
For three days Stout Heart walked, and at last came to a place all
grassy and flowery, where he sat down by the side of a lake under a
tree. He was tired, for he had walked far that day and found that
slumber began to overtake him. That was well enough, for he was used to
sleep under the bare heavens, but with his slumber came confused dreams
of harmful things which he seemed to see coming out of the ground, so he
climbed into the tree, where he found a resting-place among the branches
and was soon asleep.
While he slept there came to the side of the lake the old witch, who
cast her basket net into the water and began to fish, and as she fished
she sang in a croaking and harsh voice this:
“Things in the air,
Things in the water—
Nothing is fair,
So come to the slaughter.”
They were not the words, but that is what the words meant. But
unpleasant as was the song, yet it worked a kind of charm, and things
came to her, so that her basket net was filled again and again. The fish
she cast into a kind of wicker cage, of which she had several.
Soon the croaking song chased sleep from the eyes of Stout Heart, and
looking down he saw the wrinkled crone and the great pile of fish that
she had cast on the bank, and his heart was grieved for two things—one
that there was such waste of good life, the other that he had left his
spear hidden in the grass. He grieved too, a little, because he knew
that on account of his long walk he was weak from hunger and thirst. So
there seemed little that could be done and he sat very still, trusting
that until he was better prepared for action the old witch would not see
him.
But all his stillness was of no avail. Looking at the shadow of the tree
as it lay upon the surface of the water, she saw the lad’s shadow. Then
she looked up and saw him. Had she had her magic green stone with her,
things would have been far different and this tale all the shorter. But
not having it and being quite unable to climb trees, she said:
“You are faint and hungry. Come down, come down, good lad, for I have
much here that is good to eat.”
Hearing that, Stout Heart laughed, knowing that she was not to be
trusted, and he told her that he was very well indeed where he was. So
she tried another trick, spreading on the grass fruits and berries, and
saying in a wheedling voice:
“Come, son, eat with me. I do not like to eat alone. Here are fresh
fruits and here is honey. Come down that I may talk with you and treat
you as a son, for I am very lonesome.”
But Stout Heart still laughed at her, although, to be sure, he was a lad
of great appetite and his hungriness increased in him.
“Have you any other trap to set for me?” he asked.
Hearing that, the witch fell into a black and terrible rage, dancing
about and gnashing her teeth, frothing at the mouth and hooking her long
nails at him like a cat, and the sight of her was very horrible, but the
lad kept his heart up and was well content with his place in the tree,
the more as he saw her great strength. For in her rage she plucked a
great rock the size of a man’s body from the earth where it was sunk
deep, and cast it at the tree with such force that the tree shook from
root to tip.
For a moment the old witch stood with knit brows, then she went on her
hands and knees and fell to gathering up blades of grass until she had a
little heap. All the time she was cursing and groaning, grumbling and
snarling like a cat. When she had gathered enough grass she stood up and
began to sprinkle a grayish powder over the grass heap, and as she did
this she talked mumblingly, saying:
“Creep and crawl—creep and crawl!
Up the tree-trunk, on the branch.
Creep and crawl—creep and crawl!
Over leaf and over twig.
Seek and find the living thing.
Pinch him, bite him, torture him.
Creep and crawl—creep and crawl!
Make him drop like rotting fruit.”
So she went on, moving about in a little circle and sprinkling the
powder over the grass. Presently the pile of grass began to move as if
it hid some living thing, and soon the grass blades became smaller,
rounded themselves, and turned brown. Then from them shot out fine
hair-like points which became legs, and so each separate leaf turned to
an ant. To the tree they scurried and up the trunk they swarmed, a
little army marching over every leaf and twig until the green became
brown, and louder and louder the old witch screamed, waving her arms the
while:
“Creep and crawl—creep and crawl!
Up the tree-trunk, on the branch.
Creep and crawl—creep and crawl!”
The nearer to Stout Heart that they came, the louder she shrieked,
leaping about and waving her long-taloned hands as she ordered:
“Seek and find the living thing.”
Then Stout Heart knew that trouble was brewing indeed, for against so
many enemies there was no fighting. For a time he avoided them, but for
a time only, and that by going higher and higher in the tree, crawling
along the branch that hung over the lake, but nearer and nearer the ants
came, and louder she bade them to
“Pinch him, bite him, torture him.”
At last there was nothing for it but to drop out of the tree, for he had
been hanging to the end of a branch and the ants were already swarming
over his hands and some running down his arms. So he let go his hold and
went into the lake with a splash, down out of the sunshine and into the
cool green-blue of the waters. He swam a little, trying to get out of
the way before coming up, but had to put his head out soon to get a
breath. Then suddenly he seemed to be in the middle of something that
was moving about strangely, and it was with a sudden leaping of the
heart that he found himself in the old witch’s basket net being drawn
ashore. To be sure, he struggled and tried to escape, but it was of no
use. What with her magic and her strength he was no more in her hands
than is a little fish in the hands of a man. He was all mixed up with
other lake things, with fish and with scum, with water-beetles and
sticky weed, with mud and with wriggling creatures, and presently he
found himself toppled head foremost into a basket, all dazed and weak.
It was dark there, but by the bumping he knew that he was being carried
somewhere.
Soon he was tumbled into an evil-smelling place and must have fallen
into a trance, or slept. Again, he may not have known what passed
because of the old witch’s enchantments, for when he came to himself he
did not know whether he had been there for a long time or a little. But
soon he made out that he was in a stone house and through a small hole
in the wall saw that the place where the house stood was bare of grass
and full of great gray rocks, and he remembered his dream and thought
that it was all very unlike what had really happened.
But in that he was not altogether right, for while he was in no cage and
no twining vine with glorious flower was there, yet there was something
else. For after a little while a door opened, and he saw standing in a
light that nearly blinded him with its brightness a maiden full of
winning grace, and light and slender, who stretched out her hand to him
and led him out of the dark into a great hall of stone with a vast
fireplace. Then having heard his story, which brought tears to her blue
eyes, she opened a lattice and showed him a little room where he might
hide.
“For,” said she, “I also was brought to this place long ago, and when I
came the old witch killed one who was her slave before me. But before
she died she told me the story of the green stone which the witch has,
and also how were used the magic powders. Since then I have been here
alone and have been her slave. But now she will kill me and will keep
you for her servant until she tires of you, when she will catch another.
And so it has been for many, many years, and each one that dies has told
the power of the green stone to the other, though none had dared to use
it.”
Now hearing all that, Stout Heart was all for running away at once and
taking the maiden from that dreadful place, but just as he opened his
mouth to speak there came to their ears the voice of the old witch.
“Hide then,” said the maiden, “and all may yet go well. For I must go to
get the green stone by means of which we may fly. With you I will dare.
Alone I was afraid to venture.”
Even then he hesitated and did not wish to hide, but she thrust him into
a little room and closed the door. Through the wall he heard the witch
enter and throw a pile of wood on the hearth.
“I have a new prize,” said the ogress. “You I have fattened long enough
and now you must be my meal. One slave at a time is enough for me, and
the lad will do. Go then, fetch pepper and salt, red pepper and black,
and see to it that you lose no time, for I am hungry and cannot wait.”
The girl went into another room and the witch fell on her knees and
began to build a roaring fire. Soon the maiden reëntered, but running
lightly, and as she passed the old woman she cast on her some of the
magic powder which she had brought instead of salt and pepper. The hag
had no idea that it was the powder that the girl had thrown, and
thinking that she had been careless with the salt and pepper began to
scold her, then getting to her feet took her by the hair, opened the
door of the little room in which Stout Heart was, and little knowing
that the lad was there cast her in, screaming:
“Stay there, useless one, until I am ready to roast you.”
The maiden thrust the green stone into the hands of Stout Heart and at
once they flew through the window and out under the arch of the sky. As
for the old witch, the powder did its work and she began to swell so
that she could not pass out of any of the doors. But presently the boy
and girl, from a height at which they could see below them the narrow
valley and the witch house, saw that the old hag was struggling to get
out by way of the roof.
The two lost no time then. They flew swift and high. But swift too was
the witch. Her growing had finished and out over the top of the house
she burst, and seeing the escaping pair, began to run in the direction
they had taken.
So there was much speeding both in the air and on the earth, and unlucky
it was for the two that the green stone allowed those who carried it to
fly only in the daytime. All this the maiden told Stout Heart as they
flew. The old witch well remembered that at night there was no power in
the flying stone and was gleeful in her wicked old heart as she watched
the sun and the lengthening shadows. So she kept on with giant strides
and leapings, and going at such a rate that she was always very nigh
under the two in the air. No deer, no huanaco could have bounded lighter
over the ground than she did, and no ostrich could have moved swifter.
When the sun began to drop in the western sky, and he and she were
looking at one another with concern as they flew, the maiden bethought
her of a plan, and scattering some of the magic powder on the earth she
rejoiced to see that the leaves on which the powder fell turned into
rabbits. The sight of that the witch could not resist, and she stopped a
moment to catch some of the little animals and swallow them, so a little
time was won for the fliers.
But the hungry old witch soon went on and regained the time she had lost
and was under them again, running as fast as ever. So more powder was
scattered, this time on some thorn-bushes, which changed to foxes. Again
the old woman stopped to eat and the two gained a little. But the sun
was lower and they found themselves dropping ever nearer to the earth,
flying indeed but little higher than the tree-tops, and as they saw, the
old witch in her leaps lacked but little of touching them.
Ahead of them was the lake in which Stout Heart had been caught, the
waters red as blood with the light of the western sky, but the power of
the stone was failing with the waning day, and of the powder they had
but a small handful left. As for the witch, so near was she that they
could hear her breathing, could almost imagine that they felt her
terrible claws in their garments.
On the bank of the lake the last handful of the magic powder was cast,
and they saw the grass turn to ants and the stones to great turtles as
they passed over the water, but so low that their feet almost touched
the surface of the lake. The power of the stone was growing weak.
The old witch, seeing the turtles, stopped to swallow them, shells and
heads, and that gave the youth and maiden time enough to reach the
opposite shore, where the power of the stone was quite exhausted as the
sun touched the rim of the earth. The gentle maiden clung to Stout Heart
in great fear then as they saw the old witch plunge into the lake, for
she could travel on water as fast as she could on land. Indeed, the
fearful old woman cut through the waters so swiftly that a great wave
leaped up on either side of her, and it was clear that before the sun
had gone she would have her claws in the two friends.
But when she was in the middle of the lake the weight of the turtles she
had swallowed began to bear her down. In vain she struggled, making a
great uproar and lashing her hands and feet so furiously that the water
became hot and a great steam rose up. Her force was spent and the
turtles were like great stones within her, so she sank beneath the
water, and was seen no more.
Great was the joy of the people when Stout Heart brought the maiden to
his home, for she became his wife and was loved by all there as the
fairest woman among them.
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